CHAPTER 7: Revenge of the Campus Playboy
2010 Words
ODESSA
Liam is in dark jeans and a white t-shirt. His hair is wet for some reason and slicked back to show his stupid symmetrical face.
He’s nervous. I can see it in the way his Adam’s apple jumps when he tries to look me in the eyes and fails.
Great…I’m like the boogie man now.
I ruin lives then come to your house to shout at you in front of your housemates and friends. I should make t-shirts.
“Season 6? John B and I are on season 8.” He’s popping his fingers, “don’t worry I won’t spoil—”
“What are you doing here Griffith?”
I already feel bad. All this catfish mess is because of me, I don’t need him in my house adding to it but I would feel better if he returned the favor.
Wait, is that what he came to do?
“I came here to apologize.” Of course he did. “I’ve been thinking about myself instead of considering how it would affect you and for that I am sorry.”
Come on Liam, really? Grow a backbone, you did nothing wrong here.
“Liam, trust me when I say you really don’t have to,” matter of a fact just stop talking.
“I already went to the school IT department and got your account back up.” He did? “They even verified you.”
He pulls out his phone to show me and true to his word, there is a green tick next to my name.
“We—we have those?” I clear my throat and I take his phone when he passes it to me to see.
I take it back. I’m not the boogie man, I’m worse.
In the words of Jessica Beer, ‘you are a horrible person Odie.’
Everyone should call me horrible Odie from now on. That’s a good username for my verified blackbook profile…that I now have.
“They’ve been working on it for a while. The want professional scouts, investors and sponsors to know which accounts are real for the students they have an interest in.”
“You mean people like you Mr. 2x champion, assumed first pick for the NBA draft.” I return his phone and hope the subject change will make things better.
Thanks to his little fans, I now know who Liam Griffith really is. They treat him like he walks on air and I’m the i***t that didn’t come clean and is going to pay for it one way or the other.
“And you Miss Sophomore winter showcase winner, first chair since freshman year and orchestra bound violist,” he almost smiles.
It sort of a nice smile and I hate it.
“You’re a big deal in the music department which is why it was so easy to get them to verify you.”
“Really?” I beam like an i***t. “Because I want to win the spring showcase so I can qualify for the—ah thanks for getting my account back up.”
I decide its best to stop sharing my business with him. I could slip up and tell on myself because despite contrary to belief, I suck at lying.
“It’s cool.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal but it is.
The student I.T department must like him because they are assholes. When Jessica complained about a blackbook issue once, they threated to give her strike.
Granted she was being a bit hostile and one of them was a bad hookup but they could have just helped her.
“I also told everyone to back off your job. You and your brother’s platforms too.” He continues, “I can’t promise they will but the boys are putting the word out.”
Oh, he has ‘boys’ to put the word out. That’s amazing, (clear and direct sarcasm there.)
“What are you leaving out?” I notice the guilt that is suddenly all over his face.
“I decided to look for the person that catfished me.” My heart drops. “The IT guys think you got hacked because the account that was catfishing me was yours.”
Of course they said that. See, assholes.
“Liam.” I drop my legs.
“I know what you’re thinking but I can’t let this go.”
No Liam, I want scream. You don’t know what I’m thinking because I’m thinking about very violent things that involve you and your stupid perfect face.
“I need to find this person Vecker,” his voice becomes audible again. “I need to ask them why they did it? Why they choose me and why they choose to use you, just why?”
“But it’ll draw more attention me.” I point at my chest and he actually looks before looking at the carpet again. “To all this drama” I continue.
Like most of the school knowing our business isn’t bad enough. We just need to cut our losses and move the f**k on.
“I told everyone to back off—”
“Like that’s going to do jack.” I curse in Russian. “Why is this so important to you?”
Why is he dragging it out?
“I want to catch this person. I want to know if their motive was my family’s money or to embarrass me. To gain popularity or to get me. I want answers and the only person that can give them to me is the catfish.”
I’m the catfish and I can answer those questions easily. No, nope, nah and hell no! This wasn’t even about him or his messed-up world.
“This is a bad idea,” I shake my head and fold my arms.
I see his eyes flash, when I look down I realize I’m pushing my boobs up so I drop them.
“Believe it or not, I’m also doing this for you.” Yeah, right. “You clearly have a stalker Vecker.”
“A stalker?” Again, I refuse to believe this is my life now.
I refuse.
“Yes, this person knew things about you, had pictures of you. They even knew where you spent Christmas and who you were with, this per—”
“Because I posted it on my i********: like everyone else during the holidays. So did Jessica and my brother.”
“Did you post your birthmark on social media too? Your little twin mark,” he points at me.
I forgot I told him that.
“Yes,” I stammer. “It’s on display every time I wear a top or a dress without a back or straps and I wear those a lot.”
“I’m still doing it.” Liam bites.
He leaves after that and by the end of the week, all anyone can talk about is his catfish hunt. It’s all over the blackbook newsfeed and all our customers from O.U can talk about.
Jessica did say, if I didn’t tell him the truth it was only going to get worse and this is definitely worse.
It’s the closest thing to hell, I’ve experienced since I came here.
It’s the Bieber effect, everyone is so interested in Liam that everything he does is considered news because of who he is, where he came from and where he is going.
Worst part is, with the school talking about it and Jessica hackling me at home. I can’t seem to catch a break.
It’s just talking, America said. Now I’m a freak show.
(2weeks later)
“No, no, no Vecker!” My instructor snaps, “This is the 4th time you’re getting the notes wrong what’s going on? You’ve never mess up like this.”
“Sorry Tiff.” I push hair off my face, “I haven’t been getting much sleep.” I put down the violin to conceal a yawn.
“Well, get it together.” She claps her hands.
“Tiff—”
“We’re done for the day.” She picks up the sheet music with a huff. “I’m not wasting my time with you.”
And with that, my instructor storms off and I bury my face in my hands with a big, FML groan.
I hoped, I prayed and I almost begged that Liam would drop his hunt but he hasn’t. Which means I had to change my number and take fewer shifts at the diner just to avoid his mess.
Classes are worse because since people are determined to help him for God knows what reason. They interrogate and gossip about me when I walk in a room and some even take pictures.
I’m such a mess. I can’t tell my left from right and worst part is Jessica becomes borderline passive aggressive every time I try to complain about it.
I know I’m doing this to myself but it’s too late to come clean. Most of the school has lost its mind because of this, imagine their reaction if they knew it was me all along.
I’ll tell you this much, Liam might not know it but he’s getting me back good for lying to him.
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” America hands me a red rose when I walk through the front door.
“Thanks Mecca.” I throw my violin case in the coat closet.
“I know you’ve been down but I have something that will cheer you up.” She hands me a glass of pink champagne after I sit on the couch.
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a downer about this catfish mess. I know you have reasons why you don’t want to come clean and from now on I’ll respect them.”
Jessica walks in holding a paper bag and I down the contents of my flute.
“No more passive aggressive Jess?” I tap my nose with the rose.
“Yes. I miss us and this weird tension is so not worth it.” I smile because she’s sounding less like passive aggressive Jess already. “And to show how sorry I am” she opens the bag. “I got you this dress to wear at the black hearts party tonight.”
In her hands is a mini bodycon red number with an off-the-shoulder neckline and drop straps. She turns it around to reveal a sexy lace back.
“Wow.” I put my glass down and take the dress. “Jess!” I smile genuinely for the first time since I found out I was going to be in the showcase.
“So truce?” She opens her arms and I jump her, “truce.”
“Great we’re all happy again,” America throws her hands around us. “Now can we go get ready for the party?”
She pops her head out making us laugh.
45minutes later my hair is pinned up to do the back of the dress justice. Two curly strands fall over my forehead, I’m in sparkly sandal heels and have on a perfect red lip.
Jessica is in a suede black cocktail dress with a strappy back and leather block heels, while America struts in a white silk number with a high slit and matching strappy heels.
We look hot and everyone at the black hearts party can’t keep their eyes off us when we walk in. It’s a great confidence booster and actually helps me enjoy the party even more.
That and the free champagne.
I’m drunk by the time my cab picks me up. America stays behind with John B and since Jessica left an hour early for a date with a mystery man, its only me tonight. That’s why I don’t notice Liam on our porch till I nearly trip over him on my way to the door.
“Ouch,” he grunts when I drop my keys over his head.
- Writer
