Chapter 23
Brielle
“Tell me about your AI boyfriend experiment. What inspired it?”
Phoebe had asked me this question during the school newspaper interview.
I didn’t want to give a lame answer, and I was already freaking out inside.
I didn’t think they were recording this interview, but the fact I’d roped Brooks into coming to help wasn’t going to sit well with Dad when he found out.
And he’d find out. I was sure Reece wasn’t going to keep his big mouth shut on this one.
He’d been great overall, and the whole fake dating scheme hadn’t seemed to prick his conscience.
But I could tell tonight, he thought I was defying Dad.
I wasn’t. I just didn’t want to explain to Dad what the interview was about.
I answered their questions. I made up some of the answers. I tried to be descriptive and thoughtful because, after all, it was an interview designed to assess my ability to communicate a myriad of things.
Brooks sat next to me on a folding chair. His knee bounced up and down, and the movement was making me even more nervous.
“So, as your relationship has progressed, how do you think that dating under the eye of social media, going viral, and even the original influence of AI, has affected your relationship?”
The woman on the other end wore big red glasses that were quite distracting. I thought through my answer carefully. I wanted it to be creative. I wanted it to stand out. To sing.
“I believe that without the influence of AI, I never would have been able to bring into focus what I was looking for in a relationship. The media’s interest in how Brooks and I got together is merely an outside influence.
” I saw Brooks’s knee bounce faster. “I can look past it to the reality of who Brooks and I are. And now, technology has little influence on us. We are together, and we care about each other, and if nothing else, modern technology was the motion that got our relationship started.”
“Mmm.” The interviewer offered a thoughtful expression as she mused on what I’d just said.
“And Brooks,” she turned her attention to him, “I appreciate you joining us. I realize this interview is for Brielle and her potential internship, but we feel the popularity you’ve both garnered with social media has created an outlet for her—and for you—to really represent your age group with integrity.
So on that note, and just so we can corroborate some of what Brielle told us earlier, what does integrity mean to you?
As Brielle’s boyfriend and someone who is very publicly tied to her? ”
I think, if I hadn’t been on camera, I might have puked. I had literally dragged Brooks into this, and he had been as clueless about the topic of my interview as Dad. Geesh. I hadn’t even had the integrity to tell Brooks how much of this interview relied on our fake relationship!
Brooks didn’t look at me. I noticed his knee was still. He thought for a long, quiet moment. So long that the interviewer spoke again.
“Take your time,” she said, which I think really meant, hurry up.
“Integrity means . . . well, it means having strong principles that you stand by. Being willing to admit your mistakes and—and standing up for someone, even when it costs you.”
He glanced at me. I knew he was thinking about that first day when he’d been blindsided by my AI boyfriend scheme that backfired. He had stood up for me. It had cost him to pretend to be my boyfriend. Ironically, it had cost him the integrity I could tell he wanted so badly.
Brooks wasn’t done. He continued. “Brielle is authentic and kind, she’s caring and she—She’s memorized my baseball stats, she’s pushed me to read a book I’d never pick up, and she’s—She is who she says she is. The only problem is—” he stopped.
My heart stopped.
I think I was dead.
Yep. I was definitely dead.
Brooks avoided looking at me this time. “The only problem is . . . people didn’t seem to accept her for who she was.
Now that we’re—dating—I think popularity is hard for her.
It’s like, that’s all people really care about.
Our relationship. No one asks Brielle what her favorite book is, or why she loves pink and white tulips, or how she’d be heartbroken if the Brewers lost the opening game of their season.
So, if you ask me, the people who don’t honor integrity are the ones who watch all the social media stuff for entertainment but don’t bother to get to know the real person. ”
The room was silent.
I gaped at Brooks. Had he really said all that?
The interviewer cleared her throat. “Well.” She cleared her throat again. “My goodness. Have you thought of joining Teen Writers?”
“No,” Brooks gave a sheepish smile back at the woman. “I play baseball.”
“Well. You’re both certainly authentic.” She looked back at me.
“I can see that you both have approached teenage relationships and modern technology with more maturity than is typical. Miss Walters, we appreciate your application and this chance to interview you. We’ll be letting applicants know in about four weeks whether they’ve made the program or not. ”
We said our polite goodbyes, and then the camera clicked off.
I fell back against my chair. “That was nerve-racking,” I admitted.
Brooks didn’t say anything.
I turned to him. He was still staring at the computer like the interview wasn’t over. “Are you okay?” I asked. I had a very strong feeling that he wasn’t.
Brooks finally looked at me. The question in his eyes hurt. I could see he was confused and maybe even a little bit betrayed. “Why didn’t you tell me the interview was specifically about us?”
I dropped my gaze to my hands and picked at a chip in my nail. “I—didn’t want to bother you with it.”
“Bother me?”
“Put pressure on you?” I looked back at Brooks. “You’ve done enough for me and—”
“I’ve done enough?”
“No, I mean, you’ve helped out so much with this whole fake dating thing, and it’s blown up into such a big deal that I—”
“A big deal,” he repeated.
“Well, yes, and if I told you about the interview topic, I was afraid you’d think my application hinged on you.”
“It sort of did,” he retorted.
“Well, yeah, but—that wasn’t fair to you.”
“It wasn’t fair not to tell me, either.”
“No,” I admitted. “I guess not.”
Nothing about any of this was fair, or made sense, or was easily navigated.
“You did really good, though. Thank you,” I added.
Brooks nodded, his brows furrowed. “Why do you like pink and white tulips? Reece told me those were your favorites.”
“Because—” Tears sprang to my eyes. I felt so stupid.
So dumb. But I owed him an honest answer.
“Because when I was little, my grandpa would take me to opening day of the Brewers, and he always had a pink and a white tulip on the front seat of his car, waiting for me. I don’t know why he picked those.
But he did. I’ve loved them ever since.”
Brooks nodded, seeming to digest that information.
We were both quiet for a long moment. Finally, Brooks mustered a tight smile. “Well, I guess we’ve made it through a month.”
“I guess so.” I nodded.
“And, next up, our extra credit Lit project.”
“And baseball,” I added.
“Yeah. Baseball.”
For a moment, I thought Brooks was going to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave me another smile, and I offered one in return, and the whole moment seemed thick with unspoken somethings. But I didn’t know what.
“We should probably go,” I said.
“Yeah.” Brooks stood up suddenly, as though realizing we were alone in my dad’s office. “Before your dad finds out I helped you in your interview.”
“No kidding.” I laughed nervously.
Integrity.
What did it mean to me?
Apparently, not as much as I had made it out to be. I was still ducking for cover and hiding the truth of things from Dad. It was going to come back to bite me.