“You’re positive?”
“I know he did. I watched him. I even looked in his photos to see if it was there.”
Josefa matched Zara and put a hand on her hip. “Did you watch him delete it from his Sent folder too?”
From the bathroom stall, Emira heard a group of girls scream with recognition and joy on the dance floor. One voice said, “When did you get back?” and someone else said, “Girl, you look good!”
“Emira,” Josefa shouted. “Did he delete it from his Sent folder? Did you make sure?”
“Of course I didn’t make sure, okay?” Emira felt her cheeks prepare themselves for tears. “I was a fucking mess that night, but that doesn’t mean he has it.”
“Guys, Kelley would never,” Shaunie agreed. “Maybe he just forgot and maybe he got hacked and then—”
“But doesn’t he work in tech?” Josefa crossed her arms. “You’re telling me that he took this video, showed you that it wasn’t in his photos, and that was that? It could have been in a million other places. Doesn’t Kelley work on iPhones for a living?”
Emira said, “Josefa . . .” and it might have been the first time she’d said her full name since they were students at Temple. When Emira looked back at Zara, she knew it was too late. They exchanged quick glances loaded with information (Don’t do this to me. If you don’t I will.) before Zara flipped the latch on the swinging door and let herself out of the stall. Emira yelled, “Z, stop!” as Josefa darted behind her.
The music was louder now and a few clumps of people were dancing out on the floor. Kelley was still at the bar but joined by two friends. Zara touched his arm and said, “Hey, I lost my phone. Can you call it real quick?”
Kelley reached into his pocket. “Sure, what’s your number?”
Emira stepped up next to her and whispered, “Zara, stop.”
One of Kelley’s friends said, “Hey, happy birthday,” and another said, “You lost your phone? Is it that one on the bar?” Neither Zara nor Emira answered. As soon as Kelley typed in his four-digit code, Zara snatched the device and turned her back to his face. With his fingers still curled around an imaginary cell, Kelley said, “Zara, what the fuck?”
Josefa stepped between them, holding a hand up to Kelley. “Hey, it’s cool. Just chill out for a second.”
Kelley said, “What?” and looked to Emira. She held her breath, feeling everything inside her bubble and churn. She’d left the bar sipping champagne and turning twenty-six. She’d returned looking more like the enraged woman in the video that was currently hemorrhaging across the Internet. Standing there, drunk and confused, Emira thought, He wouldn’t, but then she thought, Jesus, please no. She tried to mentally figure out what was on his phone before Zara could, but her mind was a choppy mix of segments that somehow flowed together: Kelley telling her she should write an op-ed. Kelley telling her she could work for the richest family in Philadelphia. Kelley saying, Don’t you wanna get him fired? Alex shouldn’t be able to get away with this shit. And for some reason, Briar was in the mix too, holding her hand in the movie theater that day, and saying, “You’re just a little turkey, hello.”
Kelley looked from Josefa to Shaunie to Emira. He licked his lips and said, “What the fuck is going on?”
“Just give her a second,” Josefa said. Half of her body leaned to see his screen as Zara searched. Her other arm stretched out in front of Emira’s body as if they were driving and Emira was the passenger, seconds after an abrupt stop.
Shaunie squeezed Emira’s arm behind her. She looked at the floor and said, “Mira, just ask him.”
“Ask me what?” Kelley demanded. “Can I have my phone, please? What is going on?”
“Did you . . .” Emira looked to the ceiling. “Did you share that video?”
She saw him have the same recognition she’d had; remind himself that there was only one video that mattered. To make matters worse, Kelley answered, “No,” but then, “What video?” One of Kelley’s friends laughed and stood with his drink. “Kelley’s got all kinds of drama today.” He stepped past Emira and the other man followed.
“The video from the night we met.” Emira said this with more volume and charge. “Did you share the video from the night we met?”
“Of course I didn’t. I deleted it that night.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
Josefa clicked into her own phone and held the screen toward Kelley. “So why is it going viral right now?”
“Whoa whoa whoa, what is that?” Kelley squinted into the light. “Jesus Christ, how . . . When did this happen?”
“So you don’t have the video at all?” Shaunie was still speaking very calmly. “Not on your phone or your computer or anywhere else?”
“No way, I’ve never even watched it back. Emira, fuck.” Kelley gently lowered Josefa’s arm so he could step closer. “I wouldn’t . . . I wouldn’t do this.”
Emira breathed. “You deleted it?”
“Yes.”
Zara bent her head around Josefa’s. “You don’t have it anywhere?”
“Absolutely not.”
“K, then what’s this?” Zara flipped his phone around to face the group. There, on Kelley’s phone, was Emira blocking her face. For the third time that night, Emira heard how her voice sounded when she was tired and scared, saying, “Can you step off?” Hearing it for the third time, it was like listening to yourself leave a drunk voicemail, or continuing to sing a song after someone turns the radio off. Zara clicked out of the video, and there was Kelley’s Sent folder. When Emira looked back up at Kelley, she thought, This was just getting good.
“Fuck you,” she whispered.
“No no no. Emira, wait.”
The next moments came together in an organized mess consisting of the logistics of leaving Tropicana 187 and the politics of breaking up. Zara told Shaunie to grab Emira’s stuff and then Josefa declared that she was getting an Uber. Kelley kept begging Emira to stop, to listen to him, to look at his face, but Zara grabbed onto Emira’s hand and steered her through the crowd in a way that felt young and reminded her of college. Somehow Shaunie appeared by the stairs to the street with Emira’s coat and presents, like a boyfriend who had treated his partner to a shopping spree. Outside, it had started to snow.
My boyfriend leaked a video of me? Emira took a tighter grip of Zara’s hand in the fresh layer of white. Kelley was still behind her and saying, “Emira, wait,” to which Zara responded, “You need to back up ’cause I am not the one right now.” Josefa stepped into the street first. A car drove up and asked her, “Hey, are you Molly?” to which she responded, “Do I look like a Molly? Get the fuck outta here.”