Stuck Between Bad Brothers

Chapter 5

All day Sunday, Lindsay and I cram for midterms. She studies for French and I focus on Biology and Statistics. We both focus on the Dolan brothers new video. The make one every Sunday and I've officially watched every single one of their videos, including the ones other Youtubers make featuring the Dolan Twins.

What surprises me is that Lindsay isn't freaking that they haven't called us. It makes me feel like I'm the crazy one, the girl Lindsay was just yesterday. I don't like it. I don't want to be invested in these boys, wishing they would reappear and make our lives fun. We don't need them. So why do I wish they were back here already?

I keep busy with Bio and force myself not to check my phone more than usual. Finally, when I'bve gotten myself to pay attention and get down the right answers to my stack of index cards, Lindsays gasps and turns her laptop toward me.

"It's us!" she says. And it is.

Some Youtuber, a girl with five hundred subscribers is talking about the mystery girls with the dolan twins on Saturday night. I recondite her as the girl with the video camera.

She talks about how we acted, what we wore, and hypothesize why the Dolan twins " ditched fans for flakes." The video has ten thousand views.

The Dolan Twins hardly ditched anyone. They signed autographs and took photos. They made sure everyone was happy when they left with us. But the way this girl—Lisa Kakowski—puts it, I'm almost convinced the boys made a bad move.

Lindsay starts reading the comments and I tense up. Almost every single one of them is about us and how we're not good enough, not pretty enough, not talented enough to be with the Dolan Twins. A few of the comments are about telling people to back off, that the twins can do what they want and if we are their girlfriends, the fans should be happy for them. But most just call us disgusting wannabes or fake, twiggy bimbos. The latter is pointed at Lindsay, who doesn't gain ten pounds on camera and looks like a stick. Still, there's no reason for people to say that when they don't know her, or how much she eats. And if she did have an eating disorder, commentators like this wouldn't help.

"You think this is why they haven't called us?" Lindsay asks.

I shake my head. The video may have ten thousand views, but Grayson and Ethan have millions of followers. This video would have to go viral for them to get they hands on it. As captivating as Lindsay and I are to Lisa and the hardcore Dolan fans, we're not that interesting.

"What?" Lindsay asks, looking from me to the comments on the screen. "Do they bother you?"

"Kind of." As much as I hate to admit it, I've always had a sensitive side. Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never harm me, is complete bulllshit. Nothing hurts more than words because words are power. Especially when the words hold a bit of truth to them.

The truth is, I don't feel good enough for the Dolan Twins. I don't feel like Ethan picked the right girl, because he's obviously special and I'm obviously not. Not model-esc, not brilliant, not hilarious. I'm not someone who deserves him.

Lindsay drags me to the mirror. "That's enough. Now look in the mirror and tell yourself your great."

"I'm great," I say. My voice is weak and unconvincing.

"No. Watch me." Lindsay faces the mirror, placing a sassy hand on her hip. "Wow Lindsay, you're one hot mama. People should feel lucky to be in your presence. You're kind, you're sweet, and those shoes you got last week make you look like an angel!"

She faces me. Tuh-Dah!

I furrow my eyebrows. "Doesn't that make you self centered?"

"No. Jesus, Venus. It makes me a powerful, capable, feminine woman. If I was a guy, you'd be saying, you're right. You are powerful. You are hot and awesome."