“What? Like on WatchTube?”
“Yeah.”
All right, this had definitely not been the way I had hoped this would happen, but I guess it could have been worse.
Okay, I wasn’t sure how it could have possibly been worse, but I was sure there was a way.
I had, on purpose, not told him something big when he’d specifically asked me how life had been going. To be fair, I hadn’t thought we’d see each other again so soon. But none of those excuses mattered right then because I was busted in the worst way.
Then Zac glanced down at me, and I felt about three inches tall.
For what had to be about the twentieth time since we’d seen each other, I shrugged again, like no big deal, even though some part of my gut realized… well, that he might not think it wasn’t a big deal that I had purposely skipped around a big part of my life.
Or maybe it was just my guilt for purposely not telling him when I’d had plenty of opportunities to do so.
I’d had good intentions, but they were hard to explain.
Lying had this ability of making a person feel like a piece of shit—sometimes a little piece of shit, sometimes a giant piece of shit, but a piece of shit nonetheless. And now my small piece of shit ass had to own up to what I’d done: not told him something that was important to me. Very important to me. Because I’d been an asshole. “I have a WatchTube channel, Zac. I film videos and upload them,” I tried to explain to the confused man looking down at me. “I try to make things—food—for fun.”
Okay, that was all a stretch. I had a schedule. I posted videos at the same day and time every week. They were all just about the same length. I picked my clothes out and ironed them before filming. Did my makeup with care. Straightened my hair. Spent hours editing each video. Answered hundreds of emails and comments a week. Worked on my website regularly. Haggled with sponsors who wanted me to promote their products in my videos.
I’d made money from it and a little bit of a name.
And I’d almost lost it at all. Keeping it had come at a really high cost. I’d wiped out my bank account for it. It was why I hadn’t thought about quitting the gym until recently.
That handsome face swung toward me even more, eyebrows furrowing, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was genuinely thinking about what I’d just explained. “Why didn’t I know that?”
Because he hadn’t asked about me in years, but I didn’t say that. I just shrugged. Again. “I don’t really tell anyone about it unless they bring it up. Only one person at my job knows—the girl I introduced you to.” I scratched at my nose again. “It’s not a big deal,” I tried to insist.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched CJ’s face screw up. “Don’t you have a million subscribers?”
He wasn’t helping, he wasn’t helping at all, and the expression I shot him conveyed that. “Somewhere around there.” It was more than that now, but….
Zac’s frown got even deeper, and there was something in his eyes that made my stomach clench. “You bake in the videos?” he asked.
“Bakes, makes meals, snacks, but the recipes are all off the top of her head, and she messes them up every once in a while,” CJ explained for me, still not helping, but probably thinking that he was.
Bless his heart.
Well, I had brought this upon myself, and I had to own up to it.
“I make them up as I go along, and I don’t write anything down until I’m in front of the camera,” I confirmed. It always annoyed the shit out of me that people assumed I butchered recipes on purpose. “Messing up is part of what viewers like though. People like to watch other people fail.” My most viewed videos were of my screwups without a doubt.
Zac’s face was still twisted into a frown as he pulled his phone out from his pocket. “You’re on WatchTube?”
Did he have to say it like that? All surprised? “Yeah, and Picturegram, but it’s no big deal. You really don’t need to look. Most of the videos are really short and have me cursing when I mess up. You’re not missing out on any—”
“What’s it called again? The Lazy…” my longtime friend cut me off as he focused