Chapter 9 Miranda #2
So Stone is a good boyfriend to Naomi and a good friend to @theadventurousmiranda? Yawn. If you’re boring just say that.
That wannabe Thor guy is old, right? It’s not just me. I think he’s, like, ancient. Over 35 for sure.
“Ouch,” Leo said, reading over my shoulder. I hadn’t noticed that he’d finished his shower. I kept my gaze averted from his damp chest as he clutched a towel around his waist. His eyes scanned my phone as I scrolled through the comments. “It’s like we can’t win.”
I chuckled. “Hey, at least they believe it.”
Leo tossed his wet hair dramatically. “So that’s the verdict? It’s working?”
Humming, I looked up from the screen. “Seems to be. I haven’t heard anything from Shoshanna this morning, and that’s probably a good sign. She was happy yesterday.”
“What did Stone say?”
I startled, realizing I hadn’t gotten a message from him. “Strange. I haven’t heard from him today.” I shrugged. “He’s probably busy on set. Or maybe Shoshanna told him not to use the burner too often.”
“Seems like he’ll be able to use his regular phone soon.”
“I guess.” Leo said nothing else, but I knew we were both thinking how odd it was that Stone hadn’t messaged. Even Naomi had reached out. My stomach rumbled. “Brunch?” I suggested.
“Great idea. We can go out. Put some of that blond-on-blond action on display.”
15 MONTHS AGO - SEPTEMBER
I sat on a blanket watching my friends play volleyball on the sand.
It was our last day camping, and I was mildly grateful I’d twisted my ankle.
I’d be good to go when classes started next week, but for now, I enjoyed the rest. While my friends surfed and raced on the wet sand, I finished a book, journaled, and mentally prepped for my last year of grad school.
Raven came over to grab the ball pump, stopping to ask if I needed anything.
I said thanks but waved her off. Within our group, she was the person I was closest to.
As she ran back to the game, she fist-bumped another guy, Braden, who I’d also known for years.
From their body language, it was obvious they were sleeping together.
Our circle was incestuous in that way. New people came and went, but one thing that stayed constant was everyone’s openness to casual sex and transient relationships that began and ended within months or weeks. Everyone except me, that was.
During my first few years in school, I’d participated in the round robin of partners.
I’d tried to care, mostly to fit in, even feigning some elaborate emotional responses to breakups, as though eating cookies and watching cheesy romcoms would prove that the time spent together had meant something.
But those rituals wore thin quickly. Eventually, I realized casual encounters weren’t my jam, and I stopped engaging in one short-lived relationship after another for the sake of appearance.
Then, after my mom died, I gave up even considering the possibility.
Between grieving and schoolwork, I had enough on my mind without adding in romantic pressure.
A year ago, as the worst of my grief cloud lifted, I started dipping my toe back in the dating pool. Seeing my sister and James so loved up during the holidays made me reflect on how much I wanted something similar for myself.
I’d gone on a few first dates, mostly using apps.
Some men recognized me from online and were keen to take out @theadventurousmiranda.
That was a no-go. I couldn’t see introducing them to my honest self—hashtag-boring-and-tired Miranda.
With others, the conversation was stilted and awkward.
Or we had nothing to talk about at all. The number of men who could carry on funny, coherent conversations over messages but who were stone-faced and humorless in real life shocked me.
So far, there hadn’t been any second dates. Making the effort was the win.
As I watched Raven smile at Braden as he squeezed her hip, the idea entered my mind that life would be so much easier if Leo weren’t asexual. I sighed guiltily. That demonic little brainworm of a thought popped into my head way too often.
I needed to stop wishing things were different. Leo was perfect just as he was.
Glancing to my left, I saw two guys filming themselves, sitting on top of their surfboards.
I’d noticed them in the water earlier, wearing waterproof cameras strapped to their heads. I bet they’d gotten some great shots since both were clearly expert surfers.
One man looked older than the other. He’d unzipped the top of his wetsuit to reveal a smattering of gray hair on his chest.
The other guy, fit and tan, seemed closer to my age. His damp hair was curly and multihued, the kind of style people described as “beachy.” When he laughed, it showed off his gleaming white teeth.
The younger man appeared to be interviewing the elder, both speaking to a camera mounted on a tripod in the sand.
I couldn’t hear their conversation, but it was enthusiastic, with lots of accompanying hand gestures.
At one point, the older man demonstrated a paddling technique.
After about ten minutes, they shook hands and turned off the camera.
The older man headed toward the parking lot. To my surprise, the younger guy walked my way.
“What’d you think?” he asked, coming to stand next to me, holding his hand above his brow. At this angle, he was merely a silhouette with the sun behind him. A toned, muscular, golden silhouette.
“I’m sorry?” I looked from side to side, just to make sure this beach Adonis was speaking to me.
“My interview. I saw you watching us. Can’t believe I got to interview Jerry Scott for my channel.”
A zip of recognition invaded my brain. Jerry Scott was a name I knew. A legendary surfer around these parts. This guy must have been a journalist or influencer then.
“I was watching,” I said. “Sorry. It caught my attention. But I couldn’t hear.”
“No worries. Watching’s the whole point, right?” Surprising me again, he plopped down in the sand, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I think it went okay, but I had to keep reminding myself to ask questions and stop, like, fanboying, ya know?”
I turned to him, the sun no longer blinding me. “You’re Stone Caseman.”
A flash of something—disappointment?—crossed his features before he wiped it. “You know me.”
“Doesn’t everyone? You have a million followers. My friend Raven practically wore out her laptop watching the video of you BASE jumping in Mexico.”
He chuckled delicately, studying the horizon. “More like half a million, and yeah, that was a day.”
Braden glanced over from the volleyball game.
He must have noticed a random guy sitting next to me because he raised his brows, giving me a you okay?
look. I nodded subtly. Braden obviously didn’t recognize my companion, because all my friends would have raced over if they knew I was talking to Stone Caseman.
When Stone didn’t say more but also didn’t make a move to leave, I asked, “So the interview went well?”
“I think so. Everyone knows Jerry is a nice guy. He has that reputation. I was just trying to be respectful, so he’d think I was more than some stupid kid with a YouTube channel.”
His candor was another surprise. “I get it,” I said. “You don’t want to be the Which One of These Fruits Looks Most Like a Dick? guy forever.”
“Duuuuuuuuuude.” Red-cheeked, he face-planted into his knees. “Of all the things to go viral.”
I snickered teasingly. “Hey, every hero has their humble origin story, right? Besides, surfing with Jerry and interviewing him is a long way from that. I’m sure it will be great.”
“I hope so.” Stone scooted slightly closer, and I registered him giving me an appreciative up and down—not in a skeevy way, but in a normal checking someone out way.
I straightened my shoulders and sucked in my stomach.
“When I first started the channel, I had a lot of different types of content. But it was always the stunts and nonsense that took off and got the views. Now that I have a big enough following and can afford to lose a few, I’d like to transition away from that. ”
His voice changed as he went on. Like the leisurely drawl he used on his channel faded as his thoughts solidified into sentences.
Clearly, the Stone Caseman people saw on social media was only one version of him. Just like @theadventurousmiranda.
As we continued talking, I gave him my name and also shared my online identity with him.
Turned out, he recognized the handle and already followed but hadn’t recognized me.
I took no offense, considering how small my numbers were compared to his.
Plus, I didn’t have a YouTube channel. Or even a TikTok.
I’d chosen to stick to pictures and not videos a long time ago.
That was a place where Stone and I diverged.
He wanted to grow his following and make his living as the online version of Stone Caseman, whereas I wanted to wind down my page.
My friends began arguing, and I knew their game would be over soon.
“You should probably take off,” I said to Stone. “I mean, you’re welcome to stay for our bonfire if you want, but my friends will definitely recognize you, so you’ll get stuck telling a bunch of stories and whatnot.”
He stood, brushing the sand from his backside. “I should get home and start editing this interview anyway. My PA wants to look at it too. Make sure it hits. There’s an indie movie I might get cast in, so I’m trying to keep focused.”
“An indie movie sounds cool. Congrats. Probably fits in with your master plan to make a living at all this.”
Stone gave me a pointed look. “Yeah, actually. It does.” He pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and slipped them on. “It was really nice talking to you, Miranda. Thanks.”
“Same. And good luck.”
With that, he walked away. When Raven asked me later about the hottie I’d been talking to, I told her I hadn’t caught his name.
Two weeks later, Stone reached out via DM to ask me to coffee.
I replied that I’d love to see him but suggested he come to my apartment (clarifying that this was not an invitation for anything other than coffee).
My reasoning was simple. With his rising popularity, he was sure to be recognized in public.
The last thing I wanted was for my online persona to be linked with his.
I didn’t need my follower numbers to go up solely because of a connection to Stone.
I’d worked too hard to build up my brand on my own terms.
I supposed the easiest path would have been to turn him down, but his offer intrigued me, because he’d already been more “real” with me than he was with his audience.
Plus, he was gorgeous. Even though I’d sworn off casual encounters, I could imagine making an exception for someone with Stone’s perfect body and smile.
Remembering the way he’d looked at me made me shiver.
He was interested. Maybe a relationship that needed to be kept behind closed doors was a good thing.
We could explore the possibilities between us without external pressure.
If Stone was even interested in that. Perhaps he was only after a hookup.
I hoped he wasn’t just looking for a friend. If that were the case, I wasn’t the girl for him.
Because I already had a best friend who knew me in a way the rest of the world didn’t. And I didn’t want that with anyone else. Only my sweet, perfect Leo-Bear.