Something About Sam

Chapter 18

           

"Did you see Sam's Instagram post?"

I looked up at my sister. She had taken a seat at the edge of my bed, a giddy smile on her lips as she held her cell phone in front of my face. Sighing, I placed the magazine I was reading down. Ever since I met Sam, I had been reading gossip magazines like it was my job just to perhaps get a glimpse of him when he was so far away.

I took her phone, which had now turned black, and typed in her password. "You know I don't have an Instagram," I reminded her, just as the app popped up on the screen. Despite the fact I didn't have an account, the photo I was looking at was of myself.

It was a photo of me at the restaurant Sam and I went to in Paris. I was leaning against the balcony, staring off into the distance of the city. You couldn't see my face or anything, but it was definitely a good photo.

Sam's account (samford1) had posted it. The caption read: Thanks for having me, Paris. You were amazing but your views were better :)

I felt myself smile, my eyes drifting upwards to meet Sarah's shining ones. She was suppressing a grin. "How cute? I mean how cute is that?"

I chuckled, blushing. "It's cute." I scrolled down the screen slightly to see a few comments on Sam's post. The one comment I could see was a couple of heart emojis. The person who commented it was, of course, my sister. Above her comment, though, were 20,000 more. Twenty thousand.

"Holy..." I began to scroll through them, the smile quickly fading from my lips. Some of them were about Sam, some of them were in other languages, but most of them were about me.

So you're into blondes?

Who's the boy!?

That kid looks like he's 12

You can do a million times better Sam

I locked my sister's phone and tossed it back at her, keeping myself from reading anymore. "Jesus," she scrambled to catch the device. "What's wrong?"

"Have you read those comments?"

She nodded but didn't look as affected as I felt. "Sam's a celebrity, Taite. That's nothing compared to the crap he takes."

It didn't feel like nothing.

"Relax, Taite," she stood up from my bed. "You're going to get shit. It comes with dating a celebrity."

Right as she was leaving I mumbled a soft "we're not dating," but I doubt she even heard me. Seconds after my door shut behind her, my phone rang. It was Sam.

"Hey, Sam."

"Hey, babe. What's up?"

"You posted an Instagram of me?" My tone sounded much more accusatory than the sentence let on, but I was still feeling a little attacked. Sam chuckled.

"You don't have Instagram. Did Sarah show you?"

"Yeah," I paused, taking a deep breath so I didn't sound like a whiny bitch. "Have you read what people are commenting about me?"

"Taite, you can't read that crap. I get it all the time. People are jealous and angry. You have to learn to ignore it."

"I don't want to ignore it, Sam. I don't want it to exist."

He was silent for a few seconds. "So, should I delete it?"

"No," I sighed for what felt like the eighth time today. "It's not just about the Instagram—"