#famous(11)

Emma leaned into me, handing me the phone to enter the pass code. She was wearing a plain long-sleeved T-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms. I could feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric. I held my breath, focusing on the warmth of her body. And on not letting it make me forget my own pass code.

Emma grabbed the phone back and buried her head in my neck. Her curls tickled my cheek, but I didn’t reach over to scratch it. It was nice having her there. Trying as hard I could not to move her, I freed my arm from between us and draped it across her shoulders.

“Holy wow, Kyle.” I opened my eyes. I’d been busy inhaling the faint cherry scent of her hair.

“What?”

“Let’s just say this has definitely moved beyond the freshman class.”

I took the phone. At first I couldn’t figure out what Emma had seen.

Oh. The number under my name had jumped a lot.

Followers: 152K

I blinked. I hadn’t wrapped my head around a K showing up in my followers count. Now, an hour later, it was in the hundreds of thousands? My heart beat faster.

I started scrolling through the notifications, really paying attention for the first time. People hadn’t just followed me, they’d flitted about how hot I was, how they wanted to hang out, how if I followed back they would . . . whoa, that was not rated PG.

Emma squeezed my arm a little. “Have you already found my replacement?”

“Just one sec.” I squinted. Should I respond to these girls? I should flit something, right? I still wasn’t sure why they were following me. I wasn’t the one who took the picture. What did they expect me to say? It made it impossible to say anything.

I tapped my thumb against the screen, thinking. What do you say to a million girls telling you they’re “totally in love”? Carter would know. Carter: actually the cool guy, not just someone understudying his older brother.

“Kyle? Hello?” Emma waved a hand in front of my eyes. When I didn’t respond, she started tracing a finger along my arm. It tickled. “Do you need help coming up with a flit? I bet we can think of something funny.”

I scrolled down farther. A girl with the handle DarkAngelina403 had sent a photo of her in a bikini. A really tiny bikini. And it was kinda see-through.

Emma squirmed over me until she was sitting on my lap, facing me. She smiled hard, running a finger along my jaw.

“Kyle . . .”

“Just let me finish this.” Some of these girls were ridiculously hot.

Emma leaned in to kiss me on the cheek, her curls making it impossible to see my phone screen. I leaned to the side, trying to focus, or just get a sight line.

“I thought you came over to hang out with me.” Emma ducked under my arms for a kiss. Instinctively I pulled back. “Can’t you leave that alone? You don’t even know those girls.”

“But I have to say something, right?”

“I’m here. They’re not.”

She leaned in again to press her lips against mine. Her tongue slid into my mouth.

It felt so good I couldn’t focus on anything else. I dropped the phone and wrapped my hands around her hips, pulling her toward me. Emma moaned softly.

Then she started biting my lip. The bites: not sexy, just hard.

“Whoa, settle,” I said, pulling back. “That hurt.”

“All right, I’ll be gentle.” She leaned in to nibble on my ear. “Even though that’s no fun.”

“Slow down.” This was starting to feel weird. Hot, obviously, but still: she was never this aggressive when we were both sober. Also: still technically not a couple. “There’s nothing wrong with going slower, right?”

“But Kyle, I want to be with you,” she murmured. “Don’t you want to be with me?”

It sounded like something out of a movie. An X-rated one.

I jerked my head back. Suddenly it didn’t feel hot anymore. It felt forced, like she was playacting. Which made me feel dirty, like I should brush my teeth or watch a Disney movie or something.

“Emma, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” She looked past me. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you’re just acting . . . I dunno, weird. I mean, we’re sitting here, doing nothing, and out of the blue you’re, like, more into me now than the entire year we dated?”

She grimaced. I could have punched myself in the face.

Why was I saying this? She’s all over me, and I’m pushing her away? Jeez, the Flit stuff must have temporarily fried my brain. Or hers. Was that it? The reason she was acting this way? I didn’t want to believe it, but it made sense.

“I’ve always been into you.” She shrank back, wrapping an arm around herself protectively. “I don’t know why you’d say that.”

“But why are you acting like this?” She hadn’t told me I was crazy. In fact she was clearly avoiding the question. Oof. “Where did this come from, Em?”

“Seriously?” She still wouldn’t meet my eye. “What’s so bad about wanting to make out? You said on the phone you wished we were back together, now you’re going to be all—” Emma rolled off my lap onto the couch. She scooted away, putting a solid six inches of cushion between us. It might as well have been a wall.

“It’s not bad, but it’s like . . .” I exhaled and looked at my lap. I wouldn’t have the courage to say it if I could see her reaction. “Are you only into me right now because of what’s happening with the picture?”