TweetyGram

13 - #IWokeUpLikeThis

I sat in my kitchen, eating my pancake like a zombie while staring at the group photo Charity posted on TweetyGram yesterday.

I stood out among my former classmates, but not in a good way.

Nat, Sera, Charity, and Harriet had glowing skin and shiny hair, whereas my skin was dull and my hair was lackluster. It was clear they'd spent time, energy, and, more importantly, money to groom themselves to perfection. Compared to them, I looked like a poor, small-town girl lost in Tinseltown.

Worse, by now the post had been liked by 2.4 million people. That meant 2.4 million people—and possibly more—had seen how ugly I was.

As I blew out a sigh, Bree strode into the kitchen. "You seem to be having a rough day," she observed. "And it's only seven. What happened?"

"How much time do you have?"

"I don't have anything better to do." Bree settled on the stool across the island from me, ready to hear my story.

I drew in a deep breath and told her everything that happened yesterday; my hunt for the perfect outfit, my encounter with my former classmates, and the lie I blurted out.

"You told them Jake's your what?" Bree blinked at me, her mouth agape.

"I know. It was a disaster." I dropped my head onto the countertop. "You should've seen the look on their faces, Bree. I couldn't tell them I wasn't dating anyone. Charity was ready to crush me into pieces. I'm pretty sure she was planning to use me as a joke for the next episode of her stupid TweetyTube show too." I raised my voice to a high pitch, mimicking Charity's. "Karma! Former High School Mean Girl Forever Alone."

Bree let out a chuckle. "You realize there's nothing wrong with being single, right?"

"Of course. But Charity clearly didn't think so. I mean, she couldn't stop bragging about her super rich"—I drew quotation marks in the air with my fingers—"bae."

Bree lowered her brows in question, silently chewing her French toast.

"That means boyfriend," I explained. "I think."

As my mind reminded me of Charity's perfect life, Medusa Lindsey slithered through my veins. Her venom seeped into my bones, and soon, I began to wonder why my life was nothing like my former classmates.

I slumped in my seat, one hand stirring my coffee. "I just didn't want to sound like a loser, I guess. Everyone there was dating someone. Nat's even dating Nick Hickey."

"Who?"

"Nick Hickey. The blond from The Coolest Guys on the Block?" I tried to jog Bree's memory, but she tilted her head to the side in puzzlement. "The winner of last season's The Z-Factor?"

"Oh, that singing competition, right?"

"Yeah. Anyway, Nat has the perfect boyfriend, the perfect job, the perfect house, and she even has two super cute furbabies." I held up two fingers to emphasize my point. "Two."

Concern narrowed Bree's eyes. "Linds, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Work's been stressing me out. That's all."

I could tell she didn't believe me, but she didn't press me. "Have you told Jake about the whole fake boyfriend thing?"

I barked out a laugh. "You're kidding, right? I'm not going to tell him. He'll think I'm insane. Besides, it's not like I'm going to post our selfies on TweetyGram and tell the whole world he's my boyfriend or anything."

Amusement twinkled in Bree's eyes. "You took selfies with him?"

"They're for his grandma."

"Ah." She nodded. "But you still used his name. I think he has the right to know. Why did you mention his name in the first place anyway?"