“The Lazy Baker,” I piped up, but my heart still clung to the fact that I’d been doing my videos for years, and if Zac had genuinely asked about me… well, Boogie would have probably told him all about it. He’d told other people about it, and apparently, he’d told him a couple other things.
Damn. That hurt a little. I could admit it.
All right, maybe more than a little bit.
Those blue eyes met mine, and I suddenly hoped he couldn’t tell by my expression what I was thinking. How could you not have asked about me in so long, Snack Pack? Huh? How?
But if he could, he didn’t zone in on it, because the next thing I knew, he asked, “You’re called The Lazy Baker?”
Good. Fine. Good. I forced a little smile onto my face as I nodded. “I don’t make anything that’s too complicated or has too many ingredients.”
And fortunately, luckily, one of my oldest friends—my oldest friend honestly that I wasn’t related to—looked back down at his phone as he poked away at the screen, typing in who knows what. “I got it... Jesus Christ, Peewee. No big deal? It says you’ve got over four hundred videos uploaded on here!” he stated with a jerk of his head and enough surprise in his tone that I couldn’t help but feel pride in what I had built, in what I had made and fought for. Maybe he hadn’t cared enough to wonder about me, but I’d tried. For myself. For Mamá Lupe. I had done my best, and I had people who were proud of me and happy for me the entire time along the way.
Maybe I got embarrassed talking about it—bringing it up, mostly—but I was proud of myself, and I wasn’t going to let him forgetting about me make me feel small now. I wasn’t. Life was good despite the tiny shit I could change to make it even better.
Steadying that ache in my chest and forcing it away, I leaned over him and peeked at his phone. There were six million views on the first one. “Eh, they don’t all have that many views. That one just went viral because my mom lit my hair on fire when we tried to make crème brûlée.”
It had been a bittersweet day that one. My mom had been so happy… and then I hadn’t heard from her for a month after that. I couldn’t even say it was the first or the last time it happened. Same old, same old.
Those blue eyes slid to me.
And CJ still didn’t help any. “The one you did with your cousin, I think you were making some no-bake cookies, that one had a lot of views too.”
I knew exactly what video he was talking about, and even more pleasure filled my body.
There was nothing for me to feel sorry about. There really wasn’t.
Zac blinked, oblivious, and I smiled at him, trying to get myself to move past this ache once and for all. It is no big deal, I repeated to myself, hoping I’d believe it the more I said and thought it. “Yeah, because he spit them out.” Holding my breath and struggling to keep ahold of the not-ache I was still shying away from, I tried to get Zac’s attention. It isn’t his fault. He didn’t mean to hurt me. “You know how dramatic Boogie can be.”
But the expression on Zac’s face—surprise mixed with maybe confusion or something close to it—kicked me in the back of the knees. “He never said a word,” he admitted in a voice that had gone quiet. “He’d tell me he saw you or say you were doing okay, but that was it.”
He had? Boogie had never said shit about Zac asking about me. Not once. Then again… he knew me better than just about anyone and would’ve known I didn’t want to hear it. Actions spoke louder than words every day of the week.
He had every opportunity to find out for himself.
I lifted the shoulder farthest away from him, steadying myself some more. “It’s really not a big deal. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”
CJ made a noise as he got up. “I caught Amari watching one the other day between sets while we were working out.”
Aww. That had me perking up. “Is that someone else you two know?”
It was Zac who answered in that still-funky voice. “Yeah. A rookie. He’s a receiver that’s been catching for me.