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  Eric wondered if she’d replied to him on his fake account as well. She hadn’t answered his DM earlier, but that was hours ago. She must have seen it by now.

  He clicked the privacy latch on the inside of the trailer door, and then he leaned his weight against the edge of the makeup counter as he quickly switched accounts.

  No more @EricThorn. Back to @EricThornSucks.

  Time Stamp 9/16/16, 1:29 p.m.

  Tessa H: Hey, sorry I was off-line before. Not having the greatest morning.

  Eric’s initial pleasure gave way to a sliver of concern. Something must have shaken her. He had a feeling he knew what it was.

  Taylor: What happened? Was it because of the concert last night? Did that freak you out?

  Tessa H: Yeah, among other things…

  Taylor: Are you OK? That kind of scared the crap out of me too.

  Tessa H: Thank you! Everyone else seems to think it was funny. I don’t understand how people can make jokes about it!

  Taylor: Trust me, I’m right there with you. I didn’t sleep a wink last night.

  Tessa H: I didn’t hear till this morning. I was supposed to go sit on the front stoop with my mom today, and I totally bailed. She’s so mad at me now.

  “Crap,” Eric said under his breath. Tessa had mentioned her therapy exercises before, and he knew this one was a big deal for her. She hadn’t set foot outside in months. He hated to think that he might have set back her progress.

  Taylor: Do you want to tell me about it? I don’t have a ton of time right now, but I can talk for a couple minutes.

  Tessa H: It’s OK. At least Eric’s OK, right? He must be fine if he went on with the show afterward.

  Taylor: I guess. He seemed kind of shaken up. He did the rest of the concert from the main stage.

  Tessa H: Poor Eric. I just hope he has someone there to give him a big hug :(

  “Yeah,” Eric muttered. “That makes two of us.”

  But he was less concerned about his own state of mind. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d ever seen Tessa use a frown emoji. She always had such an air of optimism about her, even in the face of all her problems. It was one of the reasons he felt compelled to chat with her so often. It helped him keep his own issues in perspective.

  He longed to lift her spirits now. If only he could talk to her for real. Hear the sound of her voice. Or better yet, FaceTime. But of course that was impossible.

  He settled for another DM instead:

  Taylor: Hey, so that selfie you tweeted was pretty smokin’ hot ;)

  Tessa H: OMG did you see it?

  Taylor: Not bad. I’m not sure that’s exactly what Eric Thorn was looking for. Maybe you should tweet him a real one…

  Tessa H: Ummm, did you miss the part of the conversation where I have SEVERE anxiety?

  Taylor: So tweet and delete. You can do it. Face your fears.

  Tessa H: But I’m supposed to face them in small steps! Like today I was just supposed to spend five minutes on my front porch. It’s called desensitization.

  Taylor: OK, small steps. So maybe tweet a picture of your feet without the slippers.

  Tessa H: Can I wear socks?

  Taylor: Nope. Take it all off, baby.

  Tessa H: That is SO not happening today. Seriously, you didn’t see me this morning :(

  There she went with the frowny face again. Eric had never heard her sound so negative before. There had to be something he could do to cheer her up. He glanced down at his own feet, crossed at the ankles. They were bare for the video shoot. He only donned a pair of black plastic flip-flops to protect his soles from the sunbaked asphalt of the studio backlot.

  He wiggled his toes, one corner of his mouth quirking mischievously. Maybe he couldn’t show her his face, but at least he could try to make her laugh.

  Taylor: C’mon. Tweet a nude. I’ll do it if you do ;)

  Eric snickered to himself as he toggled back to Tessa’s bunny slipper tweet. He composed his own tweet in reply and quickly snapped a picture for illustration. He held the camera low to crop out the hem of his robe, just showing his hairy calves on downward. He had one foot lifted off the ground, with his flip-flop dangling from his big toe.

  Taylor @EricThornSucks

  I’m more of a thong kind of guy…*wink wink* @TessaHeartsEric @EricThorn

  pic.twitter.com/z9H81X9hPi

  He held his breath, awaiting her response. He hadn’t gone too far, had he? She had to know he was just joking around—not actually flirting. She had a boyfriend after all.

  Eric felt a twinge of some unpleasant emotion he couldn’t quite identify. Guilt, perhaps? A pang of conscience for talking to another guy’s girlfriend? He didn’t think so. His conversations with Tessa were innocent enough.

  So maybe it wasn’t guilt, then. Maybe it was more like…jealousy?

  Ridiculous. How could it be jealousy? Jealous of what? Of some loser guy named Scott who barely visited his girlfriend?

  Eric shook the thought out of his head, waiting for her to reward his clever line with laughter. At least a smile. Something must have distracted her on the other end. He DM’ed her again, still teasing.

  Taylor: Are you blushing? Too revealing?

  Tessa H: Is that supposed to be a joke?

  Taylor: Ummm, no? Not funny?

  Tessa H: Why would you tweet a pic of men’s feet?

  Men’s feet? Eric’s smile slowly faded. He added another message to the thread.

  Taylor: Tessa, you do know I’m a guy, right?

  She didn’t answer. Silence. No reply. He tried to keep his next message light, but his heart had started beating like a drum.

  Taylor: Ugh. So annoying! Everyone assumes Taylor is a girl’s name now. Thanks a lot, Taylor Swift.

  “Say something,” he whispered to the phone. “Shit, Tessa. Say something.”

  Taylor: Hello? Tessa?

  Taylor: Crap. I thought you knew. Are you there?

  Her answer came back at last, and he let out a gasp of relief when he saw it. For a moment there, he’d thought he might never hear another word.

  Tessa H: Please tell me you’re gay.

  Taylor: No… What difference does that make?

  Tessa H: Why is a straight guy tweeting about Eric Thorn?

  Eric paused again, considering his reply. Was she upset? She’d taken so long to write back just now, but maybe it didn’t mean anything. Still, some instinct told him to tread lightly. Should he apologize? Try to make another joke out of it? In the end, he simply played for time.

  Taylor: Tessa, you know I was just kidding around, right?

  He hit Send, and then he sat staring at his phone in utter bafflement. An error message had popped up—words he’d never seen before in all his years on Twitter.

  Message Not Sent

  You can no longer send Direct Messages to this person. Learn More

  Eric gave the phone a shake, as if to clear away some speck of dust. A glitch, he thought. Some hiccup in the software. It took him a moment to comprehend the truth.

  No mistake. It meant just what it said:

  @TessaHeartsEric had just unfollowed @EricThornSucks.

  THE INTERROGATION

  (FRAGMENT 4)

  December 31, 2016 9:17 p.m.

  Case #: 124.678.21–001

  OFFICIAL TRANSCRIPT OF POLICE INTERROGATION

  —START PAGE 4—

  HART: Did you talk to Dr. Regan? Is she coming?

  INVESTIGATOR: We left several voice mails. Is there anyone else we can call for you in the meantime? A family member, perhaps?

  HART: No, just my therapist.

  INVESTIGATOR: What about your mother, Tessa? You said that you live with her, correct?

  HART: Yes, but she’s working. I can’t… You don’t know how she gets. She’ll kill me. She just started at the new hospital in Midland. She’s on a double shift. You don’t have to call her, do you?

  INVESTIGATOR: Only if you want us to. It’s up to you.
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  HART: No. No. Just get Dr. Regan.

  INVESTIGATOR: We’re doing our best to get hold of her. You said your mother works at a hospital? She’s a doctor?

  HART: No, a phlebotomist. She just takes blood from people. You know, when they need blood tests and stuff.

  INVESTIGATOR: I see.

  HART: She doesn’t know about tonight. I didn’t want to tell her.

  INVESTIGATOR: Why was that?

  HART: She wouldn’t approve. She thinks anyone who so much as watches MTV is a Satan worshipper. She’s going to find out now, isn’t she? Oh God, she’s going to kill me. I really, really need my therapist.

  INVESTIGATOR: OK, Tessa. We’re working on it. In the meantime, can we go back to the Twitter activity we’ve been discussing? In particular the direct messages you exchanged on September 16. Now, it looks like there’s a gap starting that afternoon. Do you happen to recollect that date?

  HART: Yes.

  INVESTIGATOR: Can you explain to me what happened?

  HART: I blocked him. I was weirded out.

  INVESTIGATOR: I see. And why exactly were you “weirded out,” as you put it?

  HART: You saw. You just read it.

  INVESTIGATOR: I’d like to have you explain in your own words, if you don’t mind. Let me remind you that this interview is being recorded.

  HART: Well, I freaked because I thought he was a girl. I had a mental picture of the person I was talking to, and it was definitely not a…not a “him.” I felt like he misled me. Like he’d been flirting with me all that time, and I didn’t even realize. It was very unsettling.

  INVESTIGATOR: But you resumed communication with him a few days later? On the night of September 20?

  HART: I know. I should’ve followed my instincts.

  INVESTIGATOR: Tessa, what led you to resume communication?

  HART: Um, stupidity? Is that not a good enough reason?

  INVESTIGATOR: Were you aware that he’d been tweeting at you? We have record of a number of public tweets originating from the account @EricThornSucks, dated from September 16 to September 20. There were a total of thirteen tweets by my count, all tagging the username @TessaHeartsEric. Does that sound about right, Tessa?

  HART: I don’t know. He was blocked.

  INVESTIGATOR: You had him blocked over that entire period?

  HART: Yes.

  INVESTIGATOR: And yet on September 20 at approximately 11:31 p.m., you replied to one of his tweets?

  HART: I can’t believe I did that.

  INVESTIGATOR: Tessa, can you confirm for me that you tweeted on September 20 at 11:31 p.m., and I quote: “@EricThornSucks thanks for ruining my life.”

  HART: I never should’ve unblocked him.

  INVESTIGATOR: Can you confirm it for the record, Tessa?

  HART: What? Yes. I tweeted that.

  INVESTIGATOR: And what exactly did you mean?

  HART: That’s hilarious actually, come to think of it: “Thanks for ruining my life.”

  INVESTIGATOR: Tessa? You mean you were joking when you said that?

  HART: No, I wasn’t joking. I just mean I didn’t even know the half of it. I had no idea how true that would turn out to be.

  14

  TRIGGER

  A clammy hand clapped her on the shoulder, and Tessa turned her head. The room was hot, the air heavy with the sweat of undulating bodies pressing in on her from all sides. She twisted around, scanning for any sign of her friends. She must have lost them in the crowd.

  “Hey, what’s your name? I’m—”

  “Sorry, what? It’s really loud in here!”

  She spun around again, searching for the nearest door. Fingers grazed against the bare skin of her arm. They left a trail of goose bumps, despite the heat.

  She shrugged her shoulder to shake the hand away, and she went up on her tiptoes, searching. There! She saw the neon red of the Exit sign. A group of familiar faces stood beneath. Tessa held her arms in front of her chest as she pushed her way through the crowd. She didn’t stop to look for the source of the unseen voice that called after her.

  “Wait! Are you here for the program? You’re creative writing, right? I’m—”

  • • •

  Tessa jolted awake. She blinked rapidly to chase away the half-remembered fragments of her dream. In an instant, she felt the familiar choke hold of anxiety squeezing around her neck. She reached toward her bedside table. She needed to swallow two of the little pills before the full-blown panic attack overtook her.

  Her fingers closed around the pill bottle, but she froze with her arm suspended in midair. Some instinct had alerted her to another person’s presence in the room.

  She darted a glance in the direction of the doorway and saw the shadow of a human form. Male or female? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t dare turn to look. Instead, she let her arm drop lifelessly beside her, praying it would look like she had reached out in her sleep.

  “Get up,” a voice commanded. “I know you’re awake.”

  The crushing panic evaporated then. Gone. Or not exactly gone, but replaced by something even stronger: searing anger.

  It was him, she realized. Here, in her room. Watching her sleep. How many times did she have to tell him? Tessa sat up with a jerk and turned to face her boyfriend. “What are you doing here, Scott?”

  He glared back at her from the foot of the bed. “Nice to see you too.”

  “You asshole! You just scared the crap out of me! Do you understand that? Do you see these pills?” She waved the bottle of anxiety meds in his direction. “I’m not kidding around. I have a phobia. A diagnosed medical condition. You can’t just come into my room. It’s not OK!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” he shot back. “I forgot. You don’t like waking up and realizing someone’s creeping around behind your back. Is that it?”

  “Yes!”

  “That’s interesting, Tess. I know the feeling.”

  It was only then that she noticed what he was holding in his hand. Her cell phone. He held it up and turned the screen around for her to see. She recognized the photo she’d chosen for her lock screen: Eric Thorn, making out with himself in a mirror.

  “Classy, Tessa.”

  Had Scott been looking at her phone? Her camera roll? How much had he seen?

  “Give it to me.” She reached out to grab it from his hands, but he backpedaled.

  “No, I think I might hang on to this a little longer.”

  “You have no right!”

  “What? To snoop around your cell phone? You’re right. I probably don’t. But then again, I didn’t actually expect to find anything.”

  He stood rigid as a statue, but the silent venom in his stare made Tessa shrink away. She inched backward toward the far corner of her bed. “Scott, it’s nothing. It’s a celebrity crush. Lots of people have them.”

  “You think I care about this loser?” He swiped to clear the picture from her screen. “Honestly, if you think I’m pissed because you like to diddle yourself to Zac Efron here—”

  “That’s not… That’s Eric Thorn!”

  “Wow, Tessa. Way to miss the point.” He let out a harsh laugh. “Here, you want your precious phone back?” He hurled it in her direction, not quite close enough to hit her, but with enough force to make her flinch. It smacked against the wall behind her head, and she scampered off the bed to pick it up.

  “Did you break it? I need that!”

  “Yeah, I know exactly what you need it for.” His eyes narrowed into slits. “Little miss innocent over here. Won’t go past third base after two whole years of dating.”

  She didn’t answer, too concerned with checking if her screen had cracked.

  “I saw everything, Tessa.”

  “What are you talking about?” She looked up at him, bewildered. “My camera roll? My iTunes?”

  Scott shook his head, his lip curling in an ugly smirk. His face had turned beet red. She expected him to yell, but his voice came out in a rumble, low and menacing. “I
can’t believe I’m killing myself playing the dutiful boyfriend over here, and the whole time you’re on Twitter, sexting it up with some dickhole—”

  “Sexting?”

  “Don’t play ignorant with me. I read your message thread. I heard that selfie you tweeted was pretty smokin’ hot.”

  Tessa took a hasty step in his direction, holding out her hands. “Scott, that wasn’t… Did you even look at the picture?”

  “Do I need to?”

  “Scott, it was a joke. And anyway, I blocked him. I didn’t even realize Taylor was a guy!”

  He cocked his head. “You thought a girl was tweeting you to take your clothes off?”

  “Yes!” Tessa’s mind raced, her heart pounding like a jackhammer, as she recalled the incriminating details of that final conversation.

  Take it all off, baby… C’mon. Tweet a nude…

  All this time, she’d been worried that Scott would discover her Eric Thorn obsession, but this was so much worse. This was a real guy that she’d been chatting with. She’d flirted with Taylor, however unwittingly. She saw how it must look.

  “Scott—”

  “Save it. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

  He turned to leave the room, and Tessa trailed after him. Her anger had lost its edge, and a new wave of panic swept over her. She had to undo the damage somehow—make Scott understand. She followed him as far as she dared, halting just across the threshold of her bedroom door. For a moment, he paused at the top of the steps with one foot hovering over the edge.

  “Scott,” she called after him. “I’m sorry. Please come back. I can explain everything.”

  He didn’t even look at her. “I’m out,” he said.

  “Wait! Don’t go yet. You know I can’t follow you down there!”

  “Good,” his voice called back as he descended. “Don’t follow me, Tessa. Don’t call. Don’t text. Don’t talk to me at all. I hope you and your phone have a nice time together. I got the message loud and clear.”