Chapter 16
The darkness doesn’t swallow me whole in one gulp.
No, it starts slowly, sucking my toes in so gently that I don’t feel it happening until it’s up to my ankles, and by then it feels like so much effort to try to walk away.
I sit there and lose myself in the endless scroll.
I scroll up, and up, and up, reading and rereading Haven’s old posts, seeing them in a whole new light now.
In the #covid channel: This pandemic has taken so much from all of us. I refuse to let it take away the joy of debuting too. I’m choosing to focus on all of the good that’s still happening!!
In the #random channel: This might be a really stupid question, but does anyone know what is a good number of copies to sell within the first week of publication?
In the #writing channel, in response to someone talking about how tough they’re finding book two, she said: Forget everything about book one!
My debut is so raw and so unpolished and honestly, not even very good because it was just me thought-vomiting onto the page!
You know, it’s like I opened up the floodgates and let everything out without caring about stuff like pacing and character development and all that.
But having written it, I’ve learned so much and I know my second book will be less messy, and I’m sure that’s true for you too!
Back when Haven posted all these messages, I’d read them as her being genuine, or well, as genuine as Haven is capable of being, I suppose.
But now, with the newfound information that she’s known all this time that she’s Good Morning America’s book of the month, I’m seeing all her messages in a more sinister light.
For example, when she said that the pandemic has taken so much from us all and how she’s valiantly refusing to let it take her publishing joy, well, that’s easy for her to say because she already knows that despite the pandemic, her book will still be a massive bestseller.
People are devouring more content than ever, so Good Morning America is still going strong—well, stronger than ever, even, and so when her book drops on the show, people are going to be buying it in droves.
The pandemic hasn’t taken away anything from her; in fact, it’s giving her even more than she already has.
Was she smiling when she posted that in #covid, secretly laughing at the rest of us, whose debuts, unlike hers, are being pummeled by the pandemic?
Then, the question in #randombookquestions about how many copies one can expect to sell.
Surely she must know that the number of copies a Good Morning America book pick sells is going to be wildly different from the rest of us plebs’ books?
It’s not even going to be close. We’re talking a sale of two hundred books versus twenty thousand books.
And now I see Haven in my mind’s eye, typing the question with a smug, gleeful look on her flawless face.
A few people answered her question with a range of numbers from a hundred to one thousand.
How she must’ve laughed at them. Pathetic, she would’ve thought to herself.
I will probably sell over forty thousand copies.
And the third post, where she’d reassured someone about their sophomore book by telling the world that her debut book is shit.
Hah! The cruelty is so obvious now. How did I miss it before?
She’s saying that even her worst effort deserves seven figures and an endorsement from one of the biggest book clubs in the world.
Stupid wannabe writers, she must’ve thought, your best efforts are still nothing compared to my worst effort.
What galls me is that nobody else seems to be able to discern this.
Everyone reacted nicely to Haven’s veiled posts, thanking her for her “wisdom” and “kind words” and telling her she’s so “supportive” and “the best hype woman.” And when I go back to the #celebrations channel, I see that her post about being Good Morning America’s pick already has over thirty hearts and a ton of comments screaming congratulations and telling her no one else deserves this as much as she does.
Really? No one else deserves this? I could think of plenty of people more deserving.
“No,” I say out loud. I squeeze my eyes shut.
That’s such a mean, petty thought to have.
I slam my fists into my temples. Stop it, stop it.
I don’t want to turn into that person again.
I am a good person. I have only good thoughts in my mind and goodwill in my heart.
I won’t let Haven turn me into this jealous, petty cretin.
I’m different now. I promised myself this, at Dani’s funeral, that I wouldn’t let Haven’s cruelty turn me jagged.
It’s the best thing I can do to honor Dani’s memory.
She always strove hard to be good, and I will do the same.
I’ve come such a long way. I’m not a kid any longer, for one.
For another, I have healthy coping mechanisms. That’s right.
I can bake. And maybe out here in SoCal, where things are so sprawled out and the sidewalks are extra wide, I can actually go out for a run.
But the thought of getting up and changing into my running gear right now, after such a long drive, leaves me winded.
Another healthy coping method, my mind whispers: Lean on your friends.
You have them now, remember? It’s not like how things were back then, where you only had Dani, and then Haven took her away . . .
Oh yes. My friends! I quickly switch over to the private channel. Lisa and Jenna are both online. I look at our previous chats, mulling over how to phrase what I’m about to say in the least bitchy way possible.
Fern: Did you guys see Haven’s announcement?
Lisa: About the GMA book club pick?
Fern: Yeah
Jenna: Oh man, yeah! How crazy is that??
I lick my lips and cock my head to one side. “Crazy” could be either positive or negative here. Which one did Jenna mean? The thing is, I want to vent at them about all my messy feelings, but at the same time, I don’t want to come off as too jealous. There is such a fine line to walk here.
Fern: Yeah. I kind of have feelings about it . . .
Jenna: Girl, you are not the only one. I am hella jealous right now!!
Lisa: Me toooo. I would literally kill to be a GMA book club pick omg
My heart sings. They get me. They are my people. My tribe.
Fern: I’m so glad you said that! I don’t want to be a horrible person, but I am Dying with jealousy
Jenna: Saaaame! It doesn’t make you a bad person at all! I think it’s human nature
Fern: It’s just, out of all people, why Her, you know?
Lisa: What do you mean?
I stop typing. What does Lisa mean what do I mean? Isn’t it obvious? I literally meant what I said: Why Haven?
Fern: Oh it’s just like, it feels like everything good only ever happens to Haven . . . IDK, I’m probably just being dumb
Jenna: You’re not being dumb at all!
Lisa: I wouldn’t say that everything good only ever happens to her. So . . . I’m not supposed to tell anyone this, but she’s had to move back to her parents’ house because her dad got COVID and it was touch and go for a while back there
Fern: What?!
I am literally gaping at my phone, and here’s the thing: What I’m really shocked about isn’t the fact that Haven’s dad got COVID—I mean, I am shocked about that because, of course, it’s shocking news—it’s the fact that Lisa, my friend Lisa, knew about it.
Fern: How do you know?
Lisa: She told me. Listen you guys, she told me in confidence so pleaaaase do not tell anyone!
Haven told Lisa? Lisa, my friend Lisa? A dirty, ugly feeling has awakened deep in my belly and is gnawing away at my flesh.
I feel sick. Have they been chatting with each other behind my back all this while?
From how long ago? What do they talk about with each other?
And why have they been talking? Who started it?
A million questions buzz through my head, leaving me frozen. I don’t even know what to say to her right now. Luckily, Jenna seems to have read my mind.
Jenna: Wait, she told you in confidence? You guys talk to each other?
Yes, go Jenna! I want to cheer at her. A surge of goodwill washes over me as I look at Jenna’s name. Jenna is my rock. She’s always had my back, at every instance she’s been there to prop me up, to lend me a voice of support.
Lisa: Yeah. Remember about a month ago I posted in #covid about my best friend getting it?
Haven messaged me to check if I was okay, and we started talking, and then about a week later, her dad got it and she told me, I guess because I’m one of the few people she knows who’s had someone get the virus?
I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down.
Put like that, it makes sense, I suppose.
It’s not like what I’d feared—Haven reaching out to dish some dirt about me.
Of course it isn’t like that. That would be ridiculous.
But even as I think that, I get a flashback of Haven and Dani and the other girls whispering to one another and shooting me dark looks as I watched from afar.
No, it’s not like that at all. Lisa is my friend. And we’re grown women, for god’s sake.
Fern: I’m really sorry about your best friend. How is she doing now?
Lisa: Thanks! She’s doing fine. It never got bad, thank god, she said it felt like a really rough cold and she would get winded walking up the stairs, but other than that the symptoms were okay and she tested negative about two weeks later, so PHEW!
I was just so scared when she first told me though
Jenna: Oh, I bet! That’s wild. I’m so glad she’s okay
Lisa: Yeah, and for a while we were really worried about her husband and kids getting it too; her 6yo has asthma, so that would’ve been really bad
Jenna: Oh shit, yeah, totally