“Another me? Can I come down now? I’ll leave Amelia with Ben!”
“No, you won’t. She’d never forgive you if you came to see the World’s Best Aunt without her.”
“True. I really am glad you’re finding some peace there. You deserve it.”
I smiled.
“I included your phone in the box, by the way. I know you’re avoiding social media, but you should check your emails.”
“Why?”
“Because there are a lot of people on your side, Elle. Far more than all the assholes who think you’re lying. Some of the people you’ve worked with have come out and said they stand by you unquestionably, and you were trending on Twitter along with revenge porn and your own hashtag for like eight hours last night. In fact, I think you might still be there. Some of the other vloggers grouped together to start the hashtag.”
I frowned. “Really? It made that much of an impact?”
“Honey, I know you’ve been ignoring everything outside your bubble, but yes. Your video was heartfelt and honest, and people believe you. They’re supporting you. Want me to pull together screenshots and send some over?”
“I’m kind of enjoying the detox, to be honest.”
“Okay, but you should know that your video has twenty million views already. You’re literally a superstar right now.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Sure, send a few screenshots.”
“All right. Look, I gotta go, Amelia is trying to ride the dog again. I’ll talk to you later.”
“See you later.” I wiggled my fingers at the screen and hung up, then put my phone face down on the sofa.
I had no idea the video would matter that much—that people wanted my side of the story.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, breathing in the sea air. There was something about the coast that was completely calming. It kind of seeped into my bones and relaxed me, making me feel somewhat normal.
Normal.
Did normal exist anymore? Would I ever have any kind of normalcy in my life ever again? Was that possible after this?
Even if I were to go back to school and shut down my channel, would anything change for me?
I didn’t need to ask the questions, not really. I already knew the answer. I knew I would forever be attached to this scandal, that my life would never go back to how it was before.
The tape would always be a turning point in my life. Before The Tape. After The Tape.
I guess, now, my big choice was deciding what After The Tape looked like.
I opened my eyes and squealed.
Ari was standing right in front of me with a huge grin on her face, hugging a book to her chest. “Hi.”
“Oh, my God, Ari, you scared the life out of me.” I flattened my hand against my chest. “Are you some kind of ninja?”
She nodded excitedly. “We went to the library. Look! I got a new book!” She shoved a book at me, but I didn’t even have time to read it before she swept it away again. “And we got stuff to make calzones later. Do you want to come and make calzones with us?”
“Have you asked your dad if that’s okay?”
Again, she nodded, but this one was like those little dogs people put on their car dashboards. “Uh-huh. He said it was fine. I put extra cheese in the cart. Is that Aunt Elsie?”
I looked in the direction she was pointing. “Yep, looks like it. With Maude and Agnes.”
“Ooh. What are they doing?” She craned her neck to see.
I moved so the post holding up the top of the deck wasn’t obstructing my whole view anymore. All three set up their camp chairs like they’d used the night I’d had the displeasure of stumbling across them, naked, but they also had telescopes this time. They definitely looked like they were settling in for the long haul.
“Does your dad know about this?”
Ari shrugged. “I don’t know. They’re out there in the day, so probably.”
“Huh. A bit like raccoons.”
“Do they only come out at night?”
“For the most part.”
“Okay, like raccoons. What are they doing?”
They set up a table in front of the chairs, a bit like the kind of set-up you’d see at a bake sale, and then Agnes—easily identifiable by her bright hair—unrolled what appeared from here to be a large poster. I wasn’t close enough to make out the bold letters on it, but there was most definitely a badly drawn picture of a UFO on it.
Ari tilted her head to the side. “That doesn’t look good.”
“I know. That UFO is awful.”
“Really, really bad. They should have asked me to draw it. I’m very good at drawing.”
“I’m sure you are.”
We both jolted at the sound of a door slamming to our right. Theo stormed out of the house and onto the sand where he almost lost his footing, but he kept hold of it long enough to reach where we were and yell, “What the bloody hell are you doing?”
“Uh-oh,” Ari whispered. “He’s mad.”
No kidding.
“Come on.” I jumped up and guided her down after him.
“You said we could use the beach!” Agnes said. “Well, we’re using it.”
“But what are you doing? Why do you have telescopes and a table?” Theo threw his arms out. “Why are you so weird?”
“We’re not weird,” Maude said. “We’re awake. We see the truth.”
“Fine, you’re awake. But why is there a sign that says, “find out the truth about Creek Keys Aliens” on the table?”
“Because we’re inviting people to find out the truth,” Agnes replied. “Honestly, Elsie, how did your bloodline create someone so painfully stupid?”
Ari’s eyes widened. “Uh-oh.”
Seconded.
Totally seconded.
“Nobody on the beach cares about your aliens, Agnes. Nobody here can see your sign.”
“No, but they can.” Elsie pointed toward the group of cars that was forming on the dirt road. “We put flyers up around town.”
“I saw those!” Ari exclaimed. “Purple, with the alien head on.”
Theo did a double take. “How did you see those, and I didn’t?”
“I don’t have to drive the car. I just look out the window.”
He pinched his nose. “You can’t just invite people onto the beach. This is private property. People stay in my houses because they know there’s a private stretch of beach. You cannot have this many people on it.”
“You allowed us to use the beach, and this is what we’re using it for. Don’t worry, we’re putting up cones so they can’t go on the beach.” Maude held up a bright yellow cone that said, ‘Stop! Private Property!’
“Oh, well, I’m sure that’ll stop them,” Theo snapped, then pointed at Elsie. “This is your last time. Don’t ask again. Put out those bloody cones and tell those people that if they step on the other side, they’ll be shot.”
“By who? You can’t shoot.”
“I can shoot,” I offered. Not very well, and I’d only done it twice, but I could shoot. Technically.
Theo held out his hand. “There. Elle will shoot them. Make it happen.” He grabbed Ari’s shoulders and steered her away, back toward the house.