“Are you on Random?”
He gives her a long, slow smile and then drags his gaze over her in the lascivious way he usually saves for me and Savvy. Good. Abbi deserves a little male appreciation. “Why? You interested in getting you some random?”
Abbi rolls her eyes, unfazed by his flirting, and holds out her hand. “Give me your phone.”
He digs it out of his back pocket and hands it over. Abbi grabs his hand and uses his fingerprint to unlock the screen before tapping and swiping like crazy.
“Do I want to know what she’s doing right now?” Smithy asks.
“Probably not,” Savvy says.
“There you are,” Abbi declares, turning Smithy’s phone toward me. On the screen is an image of . . .
“Is that Jessica Rabbit?” I ask.
“Jessica who?” Brinley cranes her neck as she tries to see what we’re looking at.
An awful, yawning darkness opens in the pit of my stomach. I don’t understand what’s happening, but every instinct tells me this is very bad.
“The cartoon?” Savvy asks. “Man, I haven’t seen that movie in forever.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it,” Brinley says. “Someone explain to me why you’re looking at a cartoon rabbit on Smithy’s phone?”
Abbi turns the phone so Brinley can see. “She’s not a rabbit. She’s a human.”
Brinley’s eyes go wide. “Oh. She’s in a children’s cartoon? She’s so . . . booby.”
“As is Stella,” Abbi says, as if this explains anything.
“It’s from a movie,” Savvy says.
Smithy leans over the table to get a view of his phone, then nods. “Hottest piece of animated ass other than Ariel. I’d like to . . .” He holds one hand in front of him and waves the other, undeniably pantomiming “smacking that ass.”
“You’re gross,” Abbi says.
“Nah, I’m just honest.”
“Would someone please explain what’s happening here?” I beg. What does a cartoon character have to do with my Random profile?
“This is your avatar.” Abbi hands the phone back to Smithy. “Remember? You had that awful date and said you were going to take your picture down from Random, but I knew you wouldn’t, and when I checked, I was right.”
I can only stare at her, horrified.
I had dreams about Jessica Rabbit last night. I hope you’re proud of yourself.
I swallow. “You got onto my profile and changed my picture without telling me? You got on my phone without my permission?”
“I was saving you from assholes who only want your body. And you’ve admitted yourself that it worked, which is pretty fucking ironic when you consider Jessica Rabbit is the caricature version of you, but no guy would guess that without seeing you for himself. The narrow-minded asses are too worried about meeting for a hookup and accidentally finding themselves face to face with a dude. Or worse—a fat chick like me.”
Savvy and Brinley gasp at those words, but I’m too busy processing, and it takes me a minute to realize Abbi’s just knocked herself.
“You are not fat,” Brinley says at the same time as Savvy says, “You’re gorgeous, and fuck anyone who doesn’t see that.”
I turn to Smithy, since that’s his cue to say something about how she’s “really rocking her curves” or how she’s “fat in all the right places, if you know what I mean,” but he’s uncharacteristically mute and . . . staring at me like he’s seen a ghost.
“You’re Jessica Rabbit?” he asks softly.
I turn to Abbi. “When did you do this?”
“At Kace’s pool party when you were in the bathroom. I snagged your phone before the screen went black and locked me out.” Her smile falls away. “Shit, Stella, I thought you’d think it was funny.”
At the pool party. Which means . . . before Kace swiped on me. Which means Kace didn’t swipe on me at all. He swiped on some random chick with a Jessica Rabbit avatar. It means every time I thought it was weird that he talked about Amy and Hope like I didn’t know them, he was really thinking I didn’t know them. Every time it seemed like he was telling me something twice, he thought he was telling me for the first time. “I can’t believe this,” I whisper.
Smithy scratches his beard, his face screwed up in confusion. “So that means you’re—”
“Thirsty.” I jump out of the booth and grab his forearm. “Totally shocked by this information, and suddenly need a shot of something very strong.” He meets my eyes, and I desperately try to communicate everything I’m feeling. Please don’t say anything. Please don’t tell them whatever it is you know.
“Come on, Stella,” Abbi says, “it’s not that big of a thing.” But the delight that was on her face earlier is gone. In its place, worry has crept in.
Half of me wants to scream at her, but the other half is so fucking embarrassed by all of this that I just want to do whatever’s necessary to keep my friends from asking questions. I give her a tight smile. “I’m sure I’ll agree in a minute.” I take a step toward the bar, dragging Smithy along behind me. I veer toward the bathrooms and freeze when I see there’s a line.