#famous(22)

“Okay, pros are for keeping the account, cons are for deleting it,” Monique said, setting the cupcake on the desk so she could tick off her arguments on her fingers. “Pro number one: the Budding Playwrights application. I still think you could leverage this to get us in, which is what we both want more than anything.”

“Con: I’ve only got maybe a hundred followers right now, so I’d have to do something pretty crazy for this to do us any good.”

“All you’d have to do is write an article about it. Maybe even about how mean people were right away? Feminist websites would love that.” I glared until she rolled her eyes, sighing loudly. “Fine, pro: you’ll be able to see what’s happening with the picture, and Kyle, and what develops.”

“Con: the only things that have developed are more people swooning over him and piling onto me. And my locker. And my car.”

Monique pursed her lips. I took that as a sign I’d made a decent rebuttal.

“Okay, yes, that sucked, but people at school are not what we’re pro/conning. For better or worse, they already know you exist.” I rolled my eyes, but Mo ignored me. “All right, pro: you have a serious crush, and Kyle actually followed you back and responded to your PF. Flit is the best link you have to him.”

“Con: I never actually had a chance, and now he thinks of me as some pathetic kid with a crush. At best.”

Monique twisted her mouth off to the side, thinking.

“Pro: if you delete your social media accounts, you may as well not exist.”

“No way, that’s totally con: if I delete it, people might finally be able to forget I exist.”

“But why let them do that to you?” Monique leaned forward, forehead crumpling in concern. “Listen, Rachel. I know it sucked seeing all that stuff. Having Jessie and people get mean about your pictures. People are terrible. That’s a given, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But it’s already petering out.”

She had a point, at least about the online stuff. In the last few hours only a couple of dozen notifications had come in. Most were just late-to-the-party luvs and reflits.

“Yeah, but Mo, they were vicious. I didn’t even tell you some of the worst ones, you have no idea how nasty it got.”

“I have no idea?” Monique sat back, raising an accusatory eyebrow. “I know it’s easy to forget in Apple Prairie, since I’m one of maybe five in the entire school, but I’m actually a black girl?” She lifted her forehead in feigned surprise. “‘Mixed’ doesn’t change anything for trolls. Trust me, I know exactly how awful people get.”

I jerked my head back involuntarily. She was right, it was easy to forget. It never really occurred to me that Monique had to deal with that—no one I knew treated her any differently. Did I actually know that, though?

“I’m sorry, Mo, I didn’t mean . . .”

“I know you didn’t. But . . .” She shook her head, squeezing her eyes tight. “Look, you can’t let it get to you. That’s all. People can be terrible, but letting that affect how you live your life? That’s just . . .” She tilted her head back until she was talking to the ceiling. “Don’t let them win, Rachel, okay?”

“Okay,” I murmured.

I spun around on the bed so I could see into the cupcake box. There were three double-fudges. If I had still been a little mad at Monique when she’d texted that she was outside my door, I definitely wasn’t anymore. I grabbed the nearest one and took a big bite, then rolled back onto my stomach, continuing to fortify myself with chocolate and gooey-thick frosting.

“Okay,” I said again, “so I won’t totally delete my accounts and attempt to melt into the earth and cut out a big red letter P to wear on my chest every time I leave the house.”

“It was an A,” Monique said automatically. Trust Monique to correct me on school stuff at the moment she’s trying to repair our friendship with cupcakes and moral support.

“I know, but I’m not an adulteress, I’m pathetic.”

“Rachel, how many times have I—”

“No, no, I get it.” I raised my cupcake-free hand to stop her. “I’m just saying if I had a shame badge, that would be the one. Let’s say it stands for photographer, will that make you feel better? Pathetic, puppy dog, pitiful photographer. Either way, I’m not planning on actually wearing it.”

Monique smirked, but she kept her mouth shut.

“But just because I’m not going to pull a total disappearing act doesn’t mean I’m ready to become everybody’s favorite hate-follow. That’s too much.”

“Okay,” Monique said tightly, dipping her pointer into her cream cheese icing and circling it around until it looked like her finger was wearing an old-lady wig. She sucked on it thoughtfully, staring at me. “I still think we could figure out something that gets you attention that isn’t a hate-follow. But fine. What’s your plan?”

“No more picture game, for one. Especially since I’m apparently so good at it that the world can’t help but get on board.”

Monique reddened slightly, nodding once.

“In fact, I’m going radio silent until this fully blows over.”

Monique pulled her finger out of her mouth with a small, wet pop. “It’ll happen sooner than you think. Today was as much blowback as you’re gonna get, I bet.”