The Boyfriend Designer - Christopher Harlan Page 0,7

sarcastically. “Jesus, Shosh, the Lizard People thing. You can’t just drop that and then let it go without explaining.”

“There’s a pretty popular conspiracy theory that there is a secret race of Lizard People who’ve been on Earth since forever, and that they can make themselves look like people.”

I can almost hear the sound of her cringe on the other line, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Sometimes I hate the internet, even though I make my living on it and all. People really believe that crap?”

“Only the super cool people. You know—the guys who definitely don’t live in their parents’ basement playing Xbox online and jerking off at least seven times a day to cringy internet porn.”

She laughs hysterically. “You’ve got a point there. But one demerit for saying ‘internet porn’—that sounds like something my grandmother would say. All porn is internet porn at this point, no?”

“I think you’re making a huge assumption, as always.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“Glad you asked. I love when I can teach you things about yourself. I’m so multifaceted. Anyway, you’re assuming that there aren’t still those creepy dudes in trench coats going to the local smoke shop to grab a couple of nudie magazines.”

“I have to tell you, I’m totally okay with that assumption.”

“Well I’m not,” I tell her. “I don’t want to live in a world without that creepy porn buying guy. Some things are just a time honored tradition.”

“So,” Tori says, changing the subject. And, by the way, she always changes the subject when she’s lost one of our verbal tug of wars. “Why’d you call?”

“Oh, right, it’s the happiest day of my life, so far, and I wanted to share it with you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I hit seven hundred and fifty thousand subscribers—a little over.”

“OMG! That’s amazing, Shosh. It took me two years to hit that number. At this rate you’re going to pass me.”

“I doubt it. But just out of curiosity, what’s your number?”

“Umm. . . I’d have to check but I think I’m at 1.3 million. Something like that.”

“Wow. That seems like a really high number. I don’t think I’ll ever get where you are.”

“Are you nuts?” she asks, genuinely shocked at my obvious insecurities. “You’ll pass me one day, sooner than later probably. You watch. Plus, I might be writing another book. You want in? We can co-author and get you some more followers.”

“In?” I ask. “That sounds like you want me to join a mafia family or something.”

“I wish I was that powerful, Shosh. As is, I’m a New York Times bestselling author who liked the taste of seeing her name in the paper. I want more.”

I smile. “I bet if you said that exact thing to Cormac, he’d get, like, an instant erection, and dollar signs would appear in his eyes like a Looney Tunes episode.”

“The money thing for sure, but trust me he doesn’t need my book sales to give him an instant erection. A strong gust of wind can do that.”

“There you go again.”

“What?” she asks.

“Rubbing your fortune in my face.”

“I’m not face rubbing you, I promise.”

Tori is hilarious. She still falls for my fake-mad thing that I do from time to time just to mess with her. I lower my voice, get all serious, and make her think that I’m really angry when I’m totally not. “Sure you’re not. First with your best-selling book and huge social media following, and now you’re rubbing Cormac’s huge erections in my face. Wait, hold on. . .”

The sound of laugher is so loud I pull the phone away from my ear for a second. “That came out so wrong, Shosh.”

“I know. I had you going there for a minute but I screwed it up with my sexual puns.”

“It’s okay. I appreciated that one. But seriously, congrats. This is a huge accomplishment—probably bigger than you even realize.”

I’m so proud of myself. Once Tori helped me believe that I could actually do this, I put so much effort into making and editing my videos, and now it’s really paying off.

“I never would have been able to do this without you. I’m so happy. I’m so excited. I’m so. . . wait, what the hell!”

“What?” Tori asks, hearing the panic in my voice.

“I only have two questions, and I need you to answer them both before I lose my shit right now and get taken away by the nice men with the butterfly nets.”

“That’s a bad look all around, so hopefully I can answer your questions?”

Deep