Chapter 21
Brielle
“Your mom said you heard back from the Teen Writers internship program?”
It was Sunday afternoon. We’d gone to church, Mrs. Templeton had begun her Sunday School series on “dating God’s way,” which I had been sort of curious about because I checked my concordance and the word “dating” never shows up in the Bible.
So, I figured she had some points up her sleeve to make.
Probably all about integrity, morality, and ethics.
I was fine with the morality part. Trust me.
I wasn’t about to do anything my future husband might be jealous of, but the integrity part made me squirm.
As did this conversation with Dad.
He had plopped down next to me on the couch, where I was reading a really good book about inheritances and games and cute book boyfriends. Apparently, Dad wanted to talk. And now I was faced with the dilemma of telling him the topic of the interview scheduled for this Friday night.
“Hello?” Dad nudged me with his elbow.
“Oh.” I needed to answer him, didn’t I? It’s crazy how many thoughts can go through a person’s head in sixty seconds. “Yeah, I did.”
“Thanks for all the details, honey.” Dad’s teasing made me smile in spite of myself.
“Sorry,” I closed my book. I did not dog-ear the page. Instead, I tucked a bookmark into my spot and made sure nothing got bent. “So, yeah, they’re interested in me. I have the interview with them on Friday night.”
“Do you feel ready?”
Did I ever feel ready for anything? “Totally.”
We laughed, and then Dad grew serious. “Did they give you the interview topic?”
There it was. The bombshell question. Which, if I were honest, wasn’t really that hard of a question, it’s just—I never know how Dad is going to react to the whole dating stuff.
He’s not a fan of the fact that Brooks and I are dating—although I’m surprised he’s letting us and not going all hardcore and cutting it off.
But, I know—I know—if Dad were ever to learn the premise of our not-really-dating relationship, he’d be angry.
No. No, he’d be disappointed. Which was worse?
If anything triggers Dad, it’s us not being up-front with him.
He calls it a lack of respect and honor.
I call it self-preservation. Mom says that we underestimate Dad’s wisdom because we get distracted by his face.
Dad has one of those faces that just looks .
. . like he’s not happy. Even if he is. But, considering the fact that I haven’t gotten my doorknob back yet, also tells me I’m partially right.
Dad may have wisdom, but he also has nerves of steel.
I didn’t really want to test those nerves with the whole Brooks-thing.
“Umm,” I started, “they want to talk to me about modern technology.” That part was true.
Dad’s one eyebrow rose. “Modern technology? That wasn’t quite what I’d expected.”
“Me neither.” I gave him a nervous laugh.
He eyed me for a long second. “Was there more?”
“More?” I squeaked.
“What do they want to know about modern technology? That’s a pretty broad topic and a non-specific explanation for you to prepare anything for.”
“Umm, how modern technology affects teenagers.” Also true.
“Negatively.” Dad’s smile made up for the harshness of his statement. He paused then and considered something, then asked it. “So, what do you think? How does modern technology affect teenagers?”
I didn’t want to think right now. I wanted to get back to my novel—and to the main dude who had stolen my bookish heart and soul.
But Dad was waiting for an answer, and I was playing peekaboo with the truth.
One of these days, Dad was going to find out the full story about Brooks and me, and—no. I didn’t want to go there.
“I think,” I started, “that modern technology has a negative influence on teenagers.” I presented my statement more like a question.
“You’re saying that because you think it’s what I want to hear?” Dad asked.
“Isn’t it?” I countered.
He laughed. “No. I think there are some very positive things about modern technology. Namely, you have access to way more research options than I did as a kid. I remember encyclopedias.”
“What are those?”
“Exactly. And I couldn’t watch all the documentaries that are out there now. I had to wait until Sunday night when Nature came on, or some National Geographic special about tribes in the .”
“I like ,” I said.
“Not , the .”
“Oh.” Duh. I knew that.
“So yes,” Dad continued. “I think there is some great opportunity that your generation has outside of what I had. On the flip side, there are negative elements too. Like AI.”
My stomach did gymnastics and then landed on its head. I was going to throw up. “You don’t like AI?” Was this dad’s segue into addressing the viral videos of Brooks and I and the not-so-secret part that it had all started with AI?
“I think AI is like a lot of things. There need to be checks and balances.” Dad speared me with a look.
Yep.
He’d seen the videos.
Great. I was one tiny step away from him finding out that Brooks and I weren’t actually dating.
“An AI boyfriend, huh?” Dad just said it. Out loud. He said the words.
I bit the inside of my lip.
“Here’s the deal,” Dad twisted in his seat.
He had that dad look you see in TV shows, where they get all serious and concerned and ready to drop some super thought-through advice on you, even though you didn’t ask for it.
“Your mom has shown me the videos. I get that social media blows things out of proportion. But with the incident the other day at the school, you and Brooks skipping out in Reece’s truck, the news coming to interview you, and so on, I want you to be careful.
I’m not happy about this whole viral video thing. ”
“I didn’t do it!” I protested quickly.
“I know. But—when you look at modern technology and teens, this is a good case in point. Things get blown up. Made up. Things that aren’t true.
I wasn’t happy to find out you and Brooks were dating without talking to me first. But I like Brooks.
He seems like a good kid. But you’re both going to need to be careful.
Especially you, Bri. You have standards—personal standards that I know you take seriously.
Don’t let people at school make up stories about you and Brooks that aren’t true just for ‘likes.’ Like that whole AI thing. ”
Wait.
Dad thought the AI boyfriend slant was made up?
I wanted to shrink into the couch.
Dad thought I was a victim of social media fiction—only I wasn’t. I was a victim of . . . prying eyes and nosy friends who liked to post anything and everything.
Like Jenessa.
I hadn’t spoken to her since the original video had been posted. She was on my list of people to avoid.
“You know I love you.”
Ugh. I was about ready to confess everything. I opened my mouth. I was going to tell Dad the AI part was true. I was going to tell him about Brooks and my agreement to fake date. I was going to dump my soul and accept the punishment that would guarantee I’d never date again for the rest of my life.
But Reece popped into the room like the obnoxious older brother that he is.
“Aunt Elle is here! She brought Jake and Jadon.”
Crap.
There was nothing more to say.
Just—crap.
I had Lia on video chat and in my back jeans pocket. I needed to know she was there. For moral support. I’d put my earbud in my ear and left my hair down. Aunt Elle would never know that Lia was listening in.
Jake and Jadon had gone off with Reece, but not before Jake had stopped to give me a hard time.
“Hey, Bri?” My cousin asked. “Any chance I can get you to design an AI girlfriend for me?”
I glared at him.
Jadon laughed. “Nahh, don’t do it. It would destroy AI. Even a fake girl wouldn’t want to date him.”
Jake hooked his arm around Jadon’s neck and they started to wrestle.
“Boys!” Aunt Elle shouted.
My mom looked on in abject horror. Reece was her one and only son and she’d babied him like there was no tomorrow. I’m not sure she’d know what to do if I’d been born a boy and she had two sons to contend with.
Aunt Elle knew though. She kicked Jake in his butt and yanked Jadon free. “Go. Shoo. You’re both impossible like your dad.”
My cousins ran toward the basement laughing, Jake hollering over his shoulder, “She better be cute, Bri!”
As if I was going to ever help Jake in the dating department.
“I’ll date Jake,” Lia offered in my ear.
“Not a chance!” I hissed back. “I have other plans for you, my friend.”
“Sooooooo,” Aunt Elle dragged out her word, interrupting my covert conversation with Lia, and smiled at me. She perched on a barstool at our kitchen island and wrapped her hands around her coffee mug.
Mom returned to baking her amazing, mouthwatering cinnamon scones, but I knew she was eavesdropping.
I eyed my aunt.
“How’s Brooks?” Aunt Elle grinned. “Did you go out for dinner?”
Oops. Brooks and I had totally forgotten about Aunt Elle’s fifty bucks.
“Not yet.”
“You should do that soon!” Lia said through my earbud.
I ignored her.
“That’s all right,” she waved it off. “I saw the video of the tulips. My gosh, Bri! If Brooks used the fifty bucks to get you those, I am all in.”
“Where did you put the tulips?” Mom inserted.
“They’re in my room,” I answered. I knew better than to have them anywhere near Dad. He’d sneeze, cough, and have an allergic reaction to the pollen. Mom never got flowers from Dad. She got coffee beans. He knew her weak spot.
“Has he kissed you yet?” Aunt Elle rested her chin in her hand as her elbow was propped on the island.
“Elle!” My mom tsked. “I certainly hope not.”
“Oh c’mon, Stacy,” Aunt Elle rolled her eyes. “She’s sixteen. You got your first kiss when you were fourteen, you told me.”
“Mom!” I cried.
Mom turned her back to us as she stirred something in a bowl. “That was different.”
“How so?” Elle challenged her sister-in-law.
“I was—he was—”
“He wasn’t Dad?” I cried again. I liked the way the conversation was turning off of me onto Mom.
Lia was laughing as she listened in. I could hear her voice vibrating against my eardrum. Maybe this earbud idea wasn’t so great.
“He was moving away,” Mom continued. “He and I had been friends for eons, and he—It was just a peck.”
“Ahhh, young love,” Aunt Elle sighed dreamily. “I miss it. Those days of wondering if you’d be together forever. Writing your first name with his last name to see how it looked.”
“I’m not in middle school, Aunt Elle.” Give me some credit.
“You mean to tell me you haven’t tried Brooks’s last name with your first name?” Aunt Elle’s eyebrows winged upward.
“Have you?” Lia squealed on her end of the secret conversation.
Gosh. I couldn’t lie again. “Well, once but—”
“Ah ha! I knew it!” Aunt Elle was celebratory. “Is he going to join us for Easter?”
“We’re hardly engaged,” I retorted. The idea of bringing Brooks to Easter dinner was terrifying.
I wouldn’t put him through that torture.
I could see him, sandwiched between Aunt Elle and Aunt Tracy, the twin aunts moving in for the kill.
The poor guy would be smothered. Throw in a hefty dose of Jake and Jadon, and he’d never survive.
“Your older cousin, Tiffany, is bringing her boyfriend,” Aunt Elle argued.
“Tiffany is twenty, and everyone knows they’re getting married,” I argued.
“Don’t tell Tracy that,” Mom inserted.
Mom and Aunt Elle laughed.
“Well, I just want you to know, I’m proud of you.” Aunt Elle suddenly got serious. She looked at me with her crystal-blue eyes, and I could see she really meant it.
“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Lia cooed. But she didn’t know what was going through my mind in that moment. I wanted to ask Aunt Elle, Why? Was she not proud of me before I’d made up a boyfriend? Before I’d started dating?
But I didn’t ask why. I just let her comment hang there.
Suspended. With no further explanation. The funny thing was, I’d always wanted to hear her say something like that.
My other aunts, too. I wasn’t always the most popular cousin, so getting their approval meant a lot.
It also stung a bit that I wasn’t “in” until I’d made up a boyfriend.
Until Brooks had become real. And I was pretty sure if they found out the whole thing was faked?
Well, it’d backfire on me. The problem with deceit was that it was like playing dominoes.
One tipped over, and they all tipped over. All that was left was a mess.