Page 28 of Sing Your Secrets
“Well,” she mumbles distractedly as she pecks away at my phone screen, “you’re wearing his shirt, social stalking him, and started salivating when you heard him sing, so yeah—creeper status.” Ha. I wish I could argue, but fine, I’m intrigued, I’ll admit it. “Here, see? This is your hidden folder.”
Mani opens the messages and I instantly freeze.
There are dozens of unseen messages.
But they’re not from a random person…
I tuck in my legs and rest my chin on my knees. They are all from the same account. Mani doesn’t even have to open the individual messages, the previews tell an obvious story.
User291_279:Reese, it’s Petey…
User291_279:It’s not spam, it’s me.
User291_279:I’m sorry, I don’t know how else…
User291_279:Please talk to me…
User291_279:I want to apologize...
User291_279:Please unblock me…
User291_279:I just want to talk…
User291_279:I still love you…
User291_279:I need to make this right…
The room is quiet again as my friends wait for my reaction.
“How old are those?”
Mani scrolls to the bottom of the messages and opens them. I purposely divert my gaze from the TV. Petey is a highly addictive drug. One hit is all it’d take to relapse.
“Looks like the oldest is six months ago.”
I nod. Makes sense. I didn’t respond to his messages, and he couldn’t call or text, so he started sending flowers. He only has my address because, before Dad’s stint in prison, we shut his bank account down. Petey’s manager had to mail the royalty checks from “Depth.” I should’ve set up a P.O. Box—it’s what we advise our clients to do maintain no contact after a gnarly divorce. I guess I should be grateful Petey wasn’t foolish enough to show up at my front door. But then again—wasn’t that the problem? Ever since Petey found fame, he could never go the extra mile for me. He couldn’t show up for me. I wasn’t worth the trouble to him.
“Can you delete all of those?” I ask Mani in a whisper, trying to hold in the swelling ache that balloons in my chest. No.Too little, too late.
“I’ll take it off the screen, so you can read them in private. It’s not our business.” Addie says, patting the couch around her and looking for the remote.
“The hell it’s not,” Noa hisses. “Her breakup with Petey nearly ruined her. My divorce wasn’t even that savage. Reese,” Noa says, looking at me pleadingly, “I can’t watch you go through that again. I love you way too much.”
There’s only one reason Petey’s contacting me. Nobody strokes his ego quite like I used to. Nobody believed in him when he was nothing…like I did. He’s an emotional musician. He’s probably feeling low and uninspired and wants his human comfort blanket.
Too bad.
Hindsight’s a bitch, isn’t it?
“Don’t worry. I don’t care what he has to say. Just delete them all.”
“On it,” Mani says. After a few quick clicks, my hidden message inbox is completely blank. A clean slate.
Quinn wraps her arm around me and pulls me into a side hug. She smells like my favorite perfume that I constantly steal—ahem, borrow—from her. “Fuck him,” she mumbles and plants a quick peck on top of my head. “I’m proud of you.”