Stranger Than Fanfiction

  “She thinks WE’RE the bad influence?” Mo asked in outrage.

  “I’m sure the Wiz Kids publicists will release some statement in the next hour claiming it was dehydration, but just in case the four leeches involved are watching this, just know the Wizzers are onto you! If you don’t leave Cash alone, stop corrupting him, and stop fucking with his career—this fandom will hunt you down, we will find you, and we will kill you!”

  “Holy shit! Kylie Trig just threatened our lives!” Sam exclaimed.

  The video finished but was instantly followed by another.

  “Hey, Wizzer sluts,” Kylie said in a kind and casual tone. “So, right after I posted my last video my lawyers called me and told me I needed to retract what I said. I used some pretty strong words but I was not serious about the threats I made, nor do I condone or encourage violence of any kind. Make sure you subscribe and I’ll see you next time!”

  The second video ended, but Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo stared at the screen for a few moments in absolute terror.

  “Holy shit! Kylie Trig just threatened our lives and then took it back!” Sam clarified.

  “Every Wizzer in the world is going to hate us now!” Mo said. “What do we do? Should we go into hiding?”

  Topher decided to downplay the situation as much as possible—not to comfort his friends, but to comfort himself. This was more than he knew how to handle.

  “Guys, I don’t think we have to be worried about this,” he said. “Everyone knows half of everything Kylie says is bullshit anyway. No one would be dumb enough to believe—”

  Everyone’s phones stared to buzz. They looked at their screens and saw video messages coming in from Huda and Davi. According to the tally beside their names, it was the forty-fifth time the international Wizzers had tried calling them that day. Joey was the first to answer.

  “Hi, guys—”

  “Excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse me?” Huda shouted. “Did something happen on your trip that you forgot to share with us?”

  “What the bitch are you guys doing with Cash Carter?” Davi demanded.

  “Oh boy.” Topher sighed. “I’m assuming you saw the video?”

  “Seventy-four times!” Huda said. “Now spill!”

  “Long story short, the night before we left I wrote Cash a letter and asked him to join us. The next morning he actually showed up.”

  “Hold on! You’re saying Cash Carter joined your road trip yesterday and we had to find out about it from Kylie Trig?” Huda asked.

  Topher shrugged guiltily. “Um… yeah,” he confessed.

  Their international friends screamed so loud Huda woke up everyone in her house and Davi scared everyone at the cybercafe.

  “And you repay him by trying to kill him at a concert?” Davi asked.

  “He’s not dead, he just had low blood sugar,” Sam said. “Kylie Trig was just being dramatic. He’s only been with us for a day!”

  “Is he with you right now?” Davi asked.

  “He’s back at the hotel,” Mo said. “We’ve been hiking in the forest all day. That’s why we haven’t gotten your calls until now.”

  “What’s he like?” Huda asked dreamily. “Is he just as amazing as Dr. Bumfuzzle?”

  Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo went quiet—afraid to answer.

  “We’ll have him call you and you can see for yourself,” Joey said.

  The images of Huda and Davi on their phones suddenly froze. It wasn’t from bad service—the idea of communicating with the actor was so shocking they both went still as a rock.

  “Huda? Davi?” Joey asked but didn’t get a response. “Must be a bad connection—oh well.”

  They ended the call and paced around the streamside in silence. They scrolled through the comments section on every Wiz Kids blog and website, reading thousands of witty, rude, and nasty remarks that total strangers made about them.

  “I can’t believe we’re Internet famous,” Mo said. “Would it be unethical to use this to get people to read my fanfiction?”

  “Yes,” the others answered at once.

  “Poor Cash,” Joey said. “How does he live with this every day? I feel like I’m being pecked alive by a million invisible birds.”

  “And they don’t even know our real names!” Sam added. “Most of them are calling us Huey, Dewey, Louie, and Kung Fu Panda.”

  “Wait—which one am I?” Mo asked.

  “I hope this story doesn’t upset Cash,” Topher said. “He’s the one it’s going to impact the most. Everyone will forget about us by tomorrow. Maybe we should get back on the road and head to Oklahoma City so we can comfort him when he gets there. He might need a friend after this.”

  They all agreed, but just as they turned to leave, Mo’s phone chimed with a new Google Alert.

  “Whoa,” she said. “It’s not a good day for the Wiz Kids fandom. A naked photo of Amy Evans just leaked.”

  “Did she get hacked?” Joey asked.

  “I don’t think so—looks like it came from her Twitter account,” Mo said. “She was probably just jealous Cash was getting so much attention. But in good news, all the Wizzers are talking about that now! You were right, Topher—we’re already in the clear!”

  The gang had never been so grateful to be part of a generation with such a short attention span. They followed the trail back to the station wagon, hopeful the afternoon would be their first and only involvement with breaking news.

  Mo seemed a little disappointed their moment in the spotlight had finished so quickly. She replayed the video from the warehouse over and over again, giggling as she watched herself dance like a maniac. Sam peeked over Mo’s shoulder but cringed at the sight of himself.

  “Are you okay, Sam?” Topher asked.

  “I’m fine—I just really hate seeing myself on camera,” Sam said.

  “You shouldn’t be. You looked really pretty last night.”

  Topher smiled at Sam, and he could tell there was more than just the compliment behind his eyes.

  “Oh—thanks, Topher,” he said.

  Sam always resented being called pretty, but that’s not what bothered him. What weighed on his heart the most was seeing the heart on Topher’s sleeve become more and more visible each day. The longer it went on, the guiltier Sam felt—like he was leading a horse with a false carrot. Before their trip was over, he had to tell Topher the truth, no matter how painful it’d be to say or to hear.

  But how much truth did Sam want to give Topher? Was he even ready to tell a friend he was trans? Would it be easier to just tell Topher he wasn’t interested in being more than friends, to stop his crush from growing? But then again, was that the truth?

  After all, there was a reason Sam wanted to dance with Topher the night of Rosemary’s Abortion, there was a reason Sam stayed up late on so many summer nights chatting with Topher online, and there was a reason Sam cared so much about how Topher would handle the truth.

  Perhaps they had both wanted the same thing all along, and Sam was just scared Topher wouldn’t want it with the real Sam. Perhaps he had been hiding the truth to spare himself the disappointment. Whatever the case may be, Sam was about to find out.

  From that moment on, the trip was more bittersweet than before. By the time it was over they would head home with a dozen new memories, but maybe a couple of broken hearts, too.

  Chapter Twelve

  SINNERS AND SAINTS

  The Downers Grove troop pulled into the parking lot of the Oklahoma City Vacation Suites at seven fifteen on Monday evening, but Cash was nowhere to be found.

  “Did a man come in this afternoon, saying he was traveling with a group?” Topher asked the woman at the check-in counter.

  “I don’t believe so,” she said. “What does he look like?”

  “Never mind, he would have left an impression,” Topher said. “We’d like to put one of our rooms under his name for when he arrives.”

  By the time they’d settled into their room, Topher, Sam, and Mo were exhausted—not just f
rom hiking through the hills of the Mark Twain National Forest, but also from their emotional fifteen minutes of fame. They decided to grab a quick bite at Noodles Galore, the pasta house across the street from the hotel, and then head straight to bed.

  “Are you going to eat before your registration meeting?” Sam asked Joey.

  “I’ll just grab dinner on my way back,” he said.

  “Have fun!” Mo said. “Don’t party too hard without us.”

  “Yeah, right,” Joey said. “A Monday night in Oklahoma City with a bunch of Baptists—don’t wait up!”

  As soon as the door closed behind them, Joey got ready for his “registration meeting” like it was a fire drill. He put together a nice outfit and Googled what the appropriate number of buttons was to leave open for a hookup date (four, apparently).

  Joey followed the advice of a shirtless and energetic gay YouTuber on how to have a safe and pleasurable sexual experience. He dashed to the pharmacy down the street, taking the long way around the hotel so his friends wouldn’t see him from Noodles Galore, and purchased the essentials to groom, clean, and protect himself.

  By eight fifteen that night, Joey was feeling as fresh as humanly possible and prepared for anything the night had in store. There was only one problem: he still hadn’t heard from the guy he was meeting.

  He paced around the small hotel room, continuously refreshing his ManNip app in case it wasn’t working properly. At eight thirty Joey worried his friends would return from dinner so he left the hotel and wandered aimlessly around downtown Oklahoma City while he waited to hear from Brian K.

  At nine thirty, Joey figured he had been stood up, so he headed back to the hotel with his tail between his legs.

  “Yeah, Daddy!” His phone rang three times.

  Joey’s heart fluttered. Maybe the night wasn’t a total waste? He almost dropped his phone as he hurried to read the new ManNip messages.

  Hey sexy!

  Sorry, I just got off work.

  Still in the mood to meet up?

  XO Brian

  Joey didn’t want to seem desperate so he played it cool, waiting a good twenty seconds before responding.

  Absolutely!!!

  Just name the time and place.

  There was no reply for a couple of minutes. Joey worried he might have scared Brian off by using too many exclamation points. To his relief, his phone chimed with a game plan.

  Let’s meet for a drink first.

  There’s a bar called Sinners and Saints.

  It’s on the corner of Robinson and Park Ave.

  Meet me there at 10

  The name couldn’t have been more ironic and Joey took it as a sign their date was meant to be. He looked up directions and saw that the bar was only a few blocks away from where he stood. Joey strolled through town with a spring in his step and arrived twenty minutes early.

  Sinners and Saints was in the basement of a tall bank building that doubled as a tornado shelter when needed. It had red carpet, big red booths, and red stools at the bar. It was decorated in framed portraits of Catholic saints and framed mug shots of notorious criminals. There were only two other customers, but the bar was completely empty, so Joey had a seat at one of the stools.

  “Can I get you a drink?” a gruff bartender asked.

  “Just water, thanks,” Joey said.

  The bartender refilled his water four times as Joey waited for his ManNip date to show up. Joey was so nervous his hands were shaky and he almost spilled his glass after every sip. His heart was beating out of control and every minute seemed much longer than the one before—it felt more like running on a treadmill than meeting a guy for a drink.

  Finally, at five past ten, a tall, handsome, and muscular man walked into the bar and tapped Joey on the shoulder.

  “Jay?” the man asked.

  At first Joey forgot his own alias and didn’t know who the man was talking to. He looked over his shoulder and instantly recognized him from his profile.

  “Hi! You must be Brian.”

  Joey awkwardly shook Brian’s hand. How else were you supposed to greet a stranger you were about to have sex with? Once he had confirmation, Brian took a seat next to him.

  “Thanks for getting a drink with me,” Brian said. “Whenever I meet someone from an app, I always like to see them in public first. You can never be too careful. There are a lot of phonies out there, am I right?”

  “Totally,” Joey said with a nervous laugh. “Do you use the app often?”

  He regretted the question as soon as it came out of his mouth. He might as well have asked So, how big of a whore are you? Luckily, Brian seemed to like his straightforwardness.

  “I try to meet people the old-fashioned way, but that’s hard to do when you’re stuck in a place like Oklahoma City for a couple weeks,” Brian said. “You’re a breath of fresh air, believe me. You actually look even younger than you do on your profile—that’s rare.”

  Brian actually looked slightly older than the pictures on his profile, but Joey wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “What can I say?” he said with shrug. “I’ve got good genes.”

  “I can see that.”

  Brian flirtatiously looked him up and down. Joey’s face filled with a warm rush of blood sent straight from his heart. This was going to be a good night.

  “So, how was work? You’re an architect, right?”

  “Indeed, but it’s not as glamorous as it sounds,” Brian said. “My company’s putting in an office building on Third Street. I was just arguing with the owner about the best location to put a freight elevator. What about you? What brings you to Oklahoma City?”

  “I’m on a road trip with some friends,” Joey said. “It’s our last chance to hang out before we split up for college.”

  “College? Didn’t you say you were in college?”

  Joey was forgetting the lines to his own script. “Oh—I meant before they go off to graduate school,” he lied. “They’re all a little older than me. We met in the Anthropology program at Northwestern.”

  “How’s Anthropology treating you?”

  “Great,” Joey said. “I sit around staring at artifacts all day—and those are just my professors.”

  Brian laughed, flashing his bright smile. Joey had nothing to compare their date to, but so far they seemed to be enjoying each other’s company.

  “Can I get you fellas a drink?” the bartender asked.

  “I’ll take a Manhattan on the rocks,” Brian said.

  Joey had no idea what the hell a Manhattan was, but it sounded refreshing. “I’ll take the same,” he said.

  “Can I see your ID?” the bartender asked.

  Sheer panic hit Joey’s face like a deer in front of a semitruck. It only lasted a moment though as Joey remembered he still had the fake ID Cash had given him in his pocket. He took it out and handed it to the bartender.

  “I’ll be right back with your Manhattans,” he said, and went to the other side of the bar to make them.

  “Is that a Missouri driver’s license?” Brian asked.

  “Oh… yeah,” Joey said. “That’s where I’m from originally.”

  “You look different in your photo,” Brian pointed out. “Can I see it?”

  Before Joey could slip it back into his pocket or come up with an excuse as to why he didn’t want to show it to him, Brian had already taken the ID and given it a better look than the bartender had. All Joey’s high hopes for the night suddenly came crashing down.

  “Hemi?” Brian asked. “Why are you carrying a fake ID?”

  “I—I—I can explain.”

  “Did you lie about your age?” Brian said, and then looked around the bar in panic. “Wait—am I about to be arrested? Is Chris Hansen about to jump out somewhere with a camera crew?”

  “No—relax, I’m eighteen!” Joey said.

  “Eighteen?” Brian said. “Oh my God—I’ve been flirting with an eighteen-year-old! I feel like one of those dirty old predators. I need t
o go.”

  Brian was visibly shaken and stood to leave, but Joey grabbed his arm before he could walk away.

  “Wait—please don’t go,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry I lied, but I’m not a deceitful person. I was just desperate to meet someone and didn’t want anyone I know to find my profile, so I exaggerated some things.”

  The bartender placed their Manhattans on the counter and then hurried away to avoid whatever uncomfortable exchange was happening between them.

  “Can we just have a drink and get back to where we were before you saw my ID? I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to do this. Please?”

  The tense expression in Brian’s eyes faded into sympathy. He wasn’t looking down at a guy from an app anymore, but at a memory.

  “You’re still in the closet, aren’t you?” he asked.

  For the first time in his life, Joey’s superior deflecting skills abandoned him. It was a lot harder to lie to someone when his honesty didn’t come with a major consequence.

  “Yeah,” Joey confessed.

  “And I’m guessing you’re still a virgin, too?”

  Joey couldn’t bring himself to say it, so he just nodded. Brian glanced around the bar, as if trying to find Joey’s chaperone. Someone needed to talk to this kid.

  “You know what, let’s have a chat,” Brian said, and took a seat. “You probably don’t want to get a lecture from the guy you were hoping to sleep with, but I wish I had someone to talk to me about this when I was your age. Tell me, why would you want to lose your virginity to a total stranger? Wouldn’t you rather wait for someone special?”

  “I’d rather just get it out of the way so I don’t have to think about it anymore,” Joey said.

  “That’s your hormones talking,” Brian said. “Those little bastards will do anything to get you to spread your seed—that’s a biological fact—but you can’t let them overpower your common sense. It’s practically impossible not to when you’re young, horny, and live in an oversexualized society. Hell, even Instagram turns into a digital red light district after a certain hour—how can you not be tempted?”