Bex was going to murder her sisters. All four of them. Starting with Vivian. Sure, Vivian had said no to Asher getting a bird, but she hadn’t said no to him signing up for Forty Winks with Feathered Friends camp. And then she was going to murder Kenna, Nikki, and Fiona for goading her and saying how good it would be for her to face her fears and maybe even overcome them. She was now quite convinced that science didn’t support that theory. Quite the opposite, in fact.
And while she was at it, she was going to murder the heart attack that killed Vivian’s husband’s great uncle Roger, because it made it so Vivian couldn’t take her own son to the mother-son event and Bex had to step in.
“Just make a video for your channel of you overcoming your fears,” they said. “It’ll be inspiring to your viewers.”
And she fell for it.
Even though she was pretty sure that Nikki was just pushing for Bex to have this “opportunity” so that she could be the one at Vivian’s house, sleeping over in a nice, soft bed, while watching the other three kids, instead of out here, under the stars, on a creaky cot with nothing more than a sleeping bag protecting her from the elements.
And by “elements,” she meant the vile winged creatures.
She had made it through the evening’s events. She was proud of how strong she’d been, actually. They studied the nests of birds, then built their own; watched a live show where they showcased the movement of birds as they dove, soared, waddled, strutted, and glided; learned enough facts about birds that made her even more wary of them; and went on a “treasure hunt” for the kinds of things birds liked to eat. If nothing else, she had gotten some priceless footage.
But now it was after two in the morning, and even though she was surrounded by a bunch of parents and bird-obsessed seven to ten-year-olds who were spread out across the pavilion, all in their own sleeping bags on cots, all sleeping, she hadn’t been able to close her eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. Birds were everywhere. Sure, some were behind a netted fence, but a lot of them were right there with them. Where they could just walk right up to them or land on their heads.
One, in particular, was as tall as a good-sized dog and apparently nocturnal, because it wasn’t tucked away sleeping somewhere—it was watching her. Not like “Oh, she’s something interesting to watch for a bit.” More like “I’m going to wait for her to drop her guard, and then I’m going to swoop in and peck her face.”
She thought for the millionth time about calling Nikki to see if they could switch places—her husband was easy-going enough that he’d be supportive. But sleeping on a cot was probably not the best thing for a pregnant belly. And, duh, neither could leave the sleeping kids in their care alone while they swapped places.
She couldn’t call any of her sisters, really. Not after how much grief they’d given her about facing her fears. Besides, what she had filmed for her channel was great and she knew her viewers would love it. So of course she wanted to air it. But if she didn’t see this through, she would feel like she wasn’t being honest and authentic with her viewers. Obviously, she couldn’t do that. Besides, it was good to let her viewers know when she struggled with things and still overcame. So she would overcome.
Maybe.
Or maybe not.
All signs were pointing to not. She suddenly felt hot, and like she couldn’t breathe. And her legs wouldn’t stay still. She grabbed her phone and got out of her sleeping bag. She couldn’t just lay there in such a vulnerable position any longer. If she was going to get attacked, she wanted to be on her feet, ready to run, arms ready to flail. She shook out her arms—partly to shake away her fears, and partly to make sure they were ready for the imminent flailing. Then she folded them and rubbed her arms with her hands. It was a little chilly to be outside of her sleeping bag.
She had to stop thinking about the birds. She was never going to sleep if she couldn’t get them out of her mind.
Oh! Memes. Nikki had sent her a bunch related to her first video interview with Roman that had gone live yesterday. She had been too busy to be online at all over the past day and a half, but Nikki had assured her that she sent her some good ones that were representative of what was out there. Maybe that would distract her. She opened Messenger and started scrolling through Nikki’s picks.
The first one was a zoomed-in and screen shot picture of hers and Roman’s faces. By the looks of terror they wore, she guessed it was the exact moment when they had realized that the deer was going to charge, right before they turned to run. The words on the photo read, When you write a cathartic email to your boss about his shortcomings and accidentally click send.
She chuckled and shook her head. The one right below it was the same picture of their panicked faces, only the words said, When the teacher says one minute left to take the test, and you realize there’s a back side.
The next one was a still picture of them running from the deer. She was still impressed that Enoch managed to get ahead of them enough to video her and Roman running away. The picture was blurry in spots, but the look on their faces and the speed it was clear they were running told a story all itself. As did the look of determination on the deer’s face. The word Me was placed over her and Roman, and the words My problems were placed on the deer.
There was another one of the same picture, but this one said, I don’t always run away, but when I do, I run through the least accommodating terrain possible. She nearly laughed out loud, but then remembered everyone sleeping around her. Looking back to their interview, it probably would’ve made a lot more sense if they’d just stayed on the path and kept running toward their cars.
Then a third with that same picture, which made her wonder how many more were out there. It read, I think he wants to nudge them out of their comfort zone. A snort did escape her mouth on that one. Roman would probably even laugh at it.
Aww. And then one that made her smile. It had two pictures, side by side. One was of her, looking at Roman like she adored everything about him. She hadn’t noticed ever making that face when she was going through the edited video, but you could find pretty much any face on a person in a video if you pressed pause at just the right moment. The second picture was of Roman holding out a hand to pull her up when she’d fallen into the creek. The only words on the post were the hashtag #RelationshipGoals.
The last three were all the same animated gif—of her slipping in the water and falling flat on her back, the two-second clip repeating over and over. The first had the caption How my life is going. The next said, Me, any time I walk past my crush. And then the last one—When I’m trying to look like a skilled professional and my boss is watching.
She could tell which posts came from fans, because they seemed to all have #BexVsDeer. She clicked on the hashtag and started scrolling through the posts it brought up. There were dozens of memes. No, hundreds. Each with a video, an animated gif, or a screenshot image of something that happened during that interview. And that was just on Facebook, with this one hashtag. She couldn’t imagine how many more were on every other social media platform.
The last one she saw before closing out of the app was a zoomed in shot of the deer, with that murderous look in his eye. It said Say it to my face, bro. I deer you.
Man, that deer was creepy. Just looking into his eyes gave her a cold shiver.