Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11)(19)

“Who else?” Eliot says like I’m being absurd.

“Who are you bringing?” I can’t imagine Eliot having an easier time with this than me.

“That’s a surprise.”

Eliot loves his surprises. I don’t press the subject because another thought pops in my head. “I shouldn’t be a part of this, really, Eliot. I don’t bring people together.” I frown. “And neither do you. You have zero experience being cupid.”

If there were a cupid hierarchy, my mom would be at the very top.

She has set soul mates in motion multiple times by unintentionally helping them cross paths. It’s a subconscious gift. One of her many superpowers. She was even the one who requested Farrow to be my brother’s bodyguard, and now they’re married and expecting a second baby through a surrogate.

My dad once mentioned he’s the Reverse Cupid—a very DC Reverse-Flash thing for him to say—but he didn’t make that connection, and he truly believes he forces people away.

Maybe that’s me, too. Maybe I’ll be Reverse Cupid to my best friend. I screw up so much, and I can see myself screwing this up too. Only, I’d rather fail at writing than fail Tom or Eliot. They’ve been here for me all my life.

Eliot fixes a wavy misplaced strand of his hair, spotting himself in the full-length mirror, the black frame ornate and lavish. “I don’t have any experience yet.” He seems determined.

I wonder if this has anything to do with Charlie, who was able to unite Oscar and Jack in a cupid-worthy scheme. Eliot would never admit it, but he’s secretly competitive when it comes to his older brother. Even if it’s a one-sided competition, he has a hard time surrendering.

Before I can agree to the triple date, Fanaticon pops up on my computer screen. The fan website has a bunch of different threads for fandoms of TV shows and comic book properties.

I click into Beneath a Strong Sentiment, my favorite show on air right now.

“Whoaaa,” I say into a gasp.

Eliot stops staring at himself and walks over. “Fictitious?”

I shake my head. “No, this is about Bass on Fanaticon.” I’ve gushed so much about the show to Eliot and Tom that they both know the abbreviated name. “My comment has been downvoted really bad.”

Eliot sits behind me on the reading nook. He’s tall enough to read over my shoulder. “Callie isn’t supposed to be likable. She’s not the Chosen One of the show. She’s damaged. The more you hate her, the more it proves the whole point why everyone around her wants to protect her.”

Below my comment, the thumbs down button has over a hundred points. Only three thumbs up.

“I didn’t think that was a horrible opinion,” I mumble.

Eliot squints at the screen. “Who’s Callie again?”

I give him another quick rundown of Beneath a Strong Sentiment. A science-fiction/fantasy about a new genetically evolved human species on Earth that are immune to disease, intellectually superior, age slowly, and live so long they have the potential to be immortal. Humans simply call this superior species the evolved. Except the evolved have a major flaw, they often get “stuck” in one dominant emotion.

Anger.

Sadness.

Lust.

Those three are the most common ones.

“Callie is a Lust Dominant,” I finish my explanation to Eliot. “A lot of viewers hate her for stupid reasons. They think Frost, the leader of the eldest ‘evolved’, shouldn’t be with her. He’s already controlled his emotions, even being an Anger Dominant, and people think he’s too good for her… it’s a whole thing…” I wave a hand, watching as Eliot’s face scrunches up like I lost him. I’m either terrible at summarizing or it’s hard to explain this particular show to non-viewers. Maybe they just have to see it for themselves.

It’s probably me.

Eliot listens intently like he’s at least trying. I’ll give him that. I smile. “You should watch an episode.”

“It’s on HBO?” he asks.

I nod. “At least so you can become a Callie stan with me.” My stomach sinks. What if Eliot doesn’t like Callie? Ugh, that’d break my heart. I wince. “On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t. I don’t know if my heart can withstand more Callie hate.”

His brows furrow, and his blue eyes drive deeper through me. Like he can read me too well. Like I’m one of his audiobooks on three-times speed, already racing to the end. Is it that obvious why I relate to Callie so much, even to a non-viewer?

So much empathy lives and breathes inside that one look that I have to turn my head away from Eliot. Back to the computer screen.

I don’t want to bring up my mom. I don’t want to bring up the rumors about me. I trust Eliot and Tom with my deepest secrets, and I’ve spoken to them before about being Luna Hale: Daughter of a Sex Addict. But the more I go out and party, the more paparazzi catch me kissing random guys at bars, the more I shut down. The more I don’t want to talk at all.

“I’m sure I’d like her,” Eliot assures.

My belly tightens into fiercer knots, knowing he’s just saying this to assuage my feelings. And then I see the comment underneath mine. The one nice one.

StaleBread89: Have to agree with OP. Callie isn’t likable which makes her likable. You guys don’t get it. #ProtectCallieAtAllCosts.