Overlooked(1)(190)

Hung like a Donkey: U talk bullshit

Hung like a Donkey: Ur already stupid but U need to be spanked

Hung like a Donkey: Go get some so u know what you’re saying

And on and on.

All in the past day. Normally I can ignore trolls, but the fact this guy has commented on so many of my videos freaks me out. I report him to YouTube, but there’s not much else I can do.

The second I’ve hit report abuse, I FaceTime Darla.

“Check out my latest troll attack” I say the second she appears on my screen.

Darla’s pale eyes flit across the screen as she clicks into her browser and through my videos.

“What the what?” she says.

“I know, right. I’ve reported it but it’s freaky that he’s posted on so many.”

“Make sure you take screen shots of them all.”

“Good idea.”

“Some people have way too much fucking time on their hands,” she says.

While she’s talking, I grab all of the comments before YouTube takes them down.

The nice thing about living with Nathan, no matter how useless a man he was, was that when my videos were subject to a troll attack, it wasn’t just me in the house. Having him in bed beside me made me sleep a little easier.

Now it’s just me and an oversized pillow for comfort.

“How are you doing, anyway? Anything new?” I ask.

“You mean do I have any more gossip on Nathan?” Darla winks twice at the webcam.

“No, do not tell me anything about Nathan. I mean it. How are you?”

“I’m great, babe. I found a new man. Well, if he’s old enough to be called a man yet.”

“Please tell me he’s old enough to drink.” Is this to do with her turning thirty soon?

“Of course, otherwise how boring would that be? He’s been old enough to drink for a whole year now.”

“How does he know what he’s doing in bed? Doesn’t he come too fast?”

“Oh hell no, I’m teaching him. That’s the fun. This boy doesn’t mind following instructions.”

“How long has it been? You didn’t know him the last time we talked.”

“He’s a fast learner. Let’s just say I’m molding him into my dream man.” Darla motions her hands, miming the perfect male shape. She starts wide at the top, descending into a vee shape. When her hands meet, she flips one over and mock grabs a crotch.

I snort. “You’re bonkers.”

“And you’re not? Had any more run-ins with Mr Hottie next door?”

“Nope,” I say, turning my face so she can’t tell I’m lying.

“Fine. Tell me Friday, since you’re holding out on me now.”

“So anyway,” I hesitate, “I’m going to come to you and stay for the weekend.”

“What? No way, I’m coming to see your new place.”

“You absolutely are not coming here. I miss going to our old haunts, I’m coming to you.”

“Not. Gonna. Happen. I need to see him in the flesh. If you come here, leave your keys under the mat. Because I’m staying at yours this weekend, with or without you.” It’s her don’t-mess-with-me voice. The one everyone knows means business. I’m sure her new boy toy is very familiar with it. If she says she’s coming, she’s coming. If I’m not here and don’t leave the key, she’ll sleep in her car in the driveway.

“But…”

“No buts. Don’t think you can run and hide from introducing me to your neighbor. Because I know that’s what you’re trying to do here.”

Well she’s wrong about one thing, that’s definitely not what I’m trying to avoid. Unless it comes under the umbrella of avoiding all contact with Knox whatsoever.

It’s not going to be possible to avoid him forever, is it?

Ugh. The reality of the thought is a blow to my gut.

But I can hide a little longer, give him time to forget. Make the situation a little less raw.

Darla and I talk for a little longer, before saying our goodbyes.

I throw myself back into my work, planning out the videos I’m going to shoot this week. I’ve got two product placements. Fortunately neither makes noises.

My doorbell rings, and I sink down low against my kitchen table, even though I’m around the corner from the door, and there’s no way anyone could ever see me.

“Avery,” Piper says through the door.

I’m relieved it’s just her, but still don’t want to see her in case she tells Knox I’m not sick after all. There’s always a good chance of her inviting me over to their house for more pizza or dessert.

She bangs on the door, though not with as much force as her father uses. Riddled with guilt, I freeze in place to stay silent.