Diehard Fangirl

Chapter 7

For the next week, I keep quiet about Ian King. My addiction goes completely underground. For starters, I don’t want Lynne telling my mom about the “stalking” incident, although I still don’t really think it was stalking-stalking…just a little over zealousness with irritation over his inability to click one little FOLLOW button. 

I mean, seriously! I’m a fan and he wants more fans. So he should like us! Especially the ones that have been there from the beginning and, now that he has over 100,000 followers, actually 186,252 as of 11:46AM yesterday morning, I should be able pull some rank! I will forever be known as #3134. That should count for something.

Apparently not. 

Now reinstated, I tweet in private, like a closet junkie, going to the bathroom or hiding under the sheets of my bed just in case Lynne walks into my room. She’s been staring at me with this weird look in her eyes, lately, a mixture of fear and worry. 

I figure that she’s just too old to get this fangirl stuff. She’s in college and probably likes debating scholarly things and not music anyway. Of course, now that the counselors are starting to come back for Marcus’s equestrian summer camps, I’ve noticed a little spring in her step. She also takes a lot longer to get ready in the morning before heading to the barn to go “riding”, complete with makeup, accessories, and perfume. 

As if I didn’t know that she’s making eyes with one of the Mexican guys again. 

So it looks like we both have our little secrets. 

The one thing that is amazing to me is how quickly followers are catching onto the Ian King craze. Each day his numbers increase. And I don’t mean by a few hundred or even a few thousands. It’s like his followers are breeding litters of little followers every night! I’m almost afraid to look at them today. And some of these girls are posting things that shock me. I can't even read them–-well, shouldn’t, anyway—that’s how dirty they are. 

Who are these girls? And do they really think Ian is that kind of guy? I mean, he’s sixteen, for crying out loud! 

In my mind, I can separate the two types of fangirls: the lustful yucky girls who think sexy (or, in most cases, dirty) posts will attract him and fangirls like me. The former are gross girls, reaching for the shock value, while the latter are true fans who genuinely care for Ian and his art. 

Literally, I pray for him at night before I go to bed. 

Still, I put myself into a category above the decent fangirls. Unlike the other girls, I sincerely love him. I’ve watched every single one of his videos about one hundred  times. Every day. I refuse to follow any of the other social media boys. That would be like cheating on him. I’m consistent with my tweeting and I keep my notifications turned on so that each message he sends flashes across my screen. If it was anybody else, it would be annoying. But, with Ian, it’s almost like he’s reaching out to me. Each time he tweets, milliseconds later I get to read his thoughts.

We are truly connected. 

Only he doesn’t know it yet. 

I’m glad school is in its final days. I need a break from Leslie Murphy. She sneers at me in the hallways and once bumped into me for no reason. I’m done with her and her snarky comments and rude attitude. Even Bella has jumped the neutral ship and is purely in Murphy’s camp. 

Cassie says it’s because they are jealous of me. But I can’t imagine why? Sure, I get good grades and most of the teachers like me (except Mrs. Strayer). Other than that, there’s nothing of any worth that requires jealousy. I’m not even popular!

Two nights before the end of school, we are sitting in the great room and watching television. Pica’s curled up on my lap and I’m playing with her tail. Whenever I pull it straight, it bounces right back into a curly-Q. She’s so adorable!