Stranger Than Fanfiction(42)
They ended the call and paced around the streamside in silence. They scrolled through the comments section on every Wiz Kids blog and website, reading thousands of witty, rude, and nasty remarks that total strangers made about them.
“I can’t believe we’re Internet famous,” Mo said. “Would it be unethical to use this to get people to read my fanfiction?”
“Yes,” the others answered at once.
“Poor Cash,” Joey said. “How does he live with this every day? I feel like I’m being pecked alive by a million invisible birds.”
“And they don’t even know our real names!” Sam added. “Most of them are calling us Huey, Dewey, Louie, and Kung Fu Panda.”
“Wait—which one am I?” Mo asked.
“I hope this story doesn’t upset Cash,” Topher said. “He’s the one it’s going to impact the most. Everyone will forget about us by tomorrow. Maybe we should get back on the road and head to Oklahoma City so we can comfort him when he gets there. He might need a friend after this.”
They all agreed, but just as they turned to leave, Mo’s phone chimed with a new Google Alert.
“Whoa,” she said. “It’s not a good day for the Wiz Kids fandom. A naked photo of Amy Evans just leaked.”
“Did she get hacked?” Joey asked.
“I don’t think so—looks like it came from her Twitter account,” Mo said. “She was probably just jealous Cash was getting so much attention. But in good news, all the Wizzers are talking about that now! You were right, Topher—we’re already in the clear!”
The gang had never been so grateful to be part of a generation with such a short attention span. They followed the trail back to the station wagon, hopeful the afternoon would be their first and only involvement with breaking news.
Mo seemed a little disappointed their moment in the spotlight had finished so quickly. She replayed the video from the warehouse over and over again, giggling as she watched herself dance like a maniac. Sam peeked over Mo’s shoulder but cringed at the sight of himself.
“Are you okay, Sam?” Topher asked.
“I’m fine—I just really hate seeing myself on camera,” Sam said.
“You shouldn’t be. You looked really pretty last night.”
Topher smiled at Sam, and he could tell there was more than just the compliment behind his eyes.
“Oh—thanks, Topher,” he said.
Sam always resented being called pretty, but that’s not what bothered him. What weighed on his heart the most was seeing the heart on Topher’s sleeve become more and more visible each day. The longer it went on, the guiltier Sam felt—like he was leading a horse with a false carrot. Before their trip was over, he had to tell Topher the truth, no matter how painful it’d be to say or to hear.
But how much truth did Sam want to give Topher? Was he even ready to tell a friend he was trans? Would it be easier to just tell Topher he wasn’t interested in being more than friends, to stop his crush from growing? But then again, was that the truth?
After all, there was a reason Sam wanted to dance with Topher the night of Rosemary’s Abortion, there was a reason Sam stayed up late on so many summer nights chatting with Topher online, and there was a reason Sam cared so much about how Topher would handle the truth.
Perhaps they had both wanted the same thing all along, and Sam was just scared Topher wouldn’t want it with the real Sam. Perhaps he had been hiding the truth to spare himself the disappointment. Whatever the case may be, Sam was about to find out.
From that moment on, the trip was more bittersweet than before. By the time it was over they would head home with a dozen new memories, but maybe a couple of broken hearts, too.
Chapter Twelve
SINNERS AND SAINTS
The Downers Grove troop pulled into the parking lot of the Oklahoma City Vacation Suites at seven fifteen on Monday evening, but Cash was nowhere to be found.
“Did a man come in this afternoon, saying he was traveling with a group?” Topher asked the woman at the check-in counter.
“I don’t believe so,” she said. “What does he look like?”
“Never mind, he would have left an impression,” Topher said. “We’d like to put one of our rooms under his name for when he arrives.”
By the time they’d settled into their room, Topher, Sam, and Mo were exhausted—not just from hiking through the hills of the Mark Twain National Forest, but also from their emotional fifteen minutes of fame. They decided to grab a quick bite at Noodles Galore, the pasta house across the street from the hotel, and then head straight to bed.
“Are you going to eat before your registration meeting?” Sam asked Joey.
“I’ll just grab dinner on my way back,” he said.
“Have fun!” Mo said. “Don’t party too hard without us.”
“Yeah, right,” Joey said. “A Monday night in Oklahoma City with a bunch of Baptists—don’t wait up!”
As soon as the door closed behind them, Joey got ready for his “registration meeting” like it was a fire drill. He put together a nice outfit and Googled what the appropriate number of buttons was to leave open for a hookup date (four, apparently).
Joey followed the advice of a shirtless and energetic gay YouTuber on how to have a safe and pleasurable sexual experience. He dashed to the pharmacy down the street, taking the long way around the hotel so his friends wouldn’t see him from Noodles Galore, and purchased the essentials to groom, clean, and protect himself.