Love, Comment, Subscribe by Cathy Yardley

CHAPTER 42

The next day, Tobin sat in the back of the town car he’d ordered. He was going to LAX, which sucked, but he didn’t want to deal with a shuttle, and he didn’t want to bother any of his friends. Driving to LA almost always sucked already—dealing with LAX was one of the lower rings of hell, and he wouldn’t wish it on anybody he liked.

He’d slept like shit, but that wasn’t a surprise. He’d gotten a ticket to Melbourne, and from there he was going to see where adventures took him. He figured he’d probably spend the first few days just getting acclimated—that was what usually happened. He’d fight insomnia at night and pseudonarcolepsy during the day, and then, once he’d settled in and gotten his bearings, he’d start exploring. Everything he’d read and all the YouTubers he knew from Down Under suggested that Australia was pretty cool, and he was looking forward to doing something, anything, new.

He just needed the break. His chest still hurt, and thoughts of Lily were like a toothache, dull and sore and pervasive.

“There’s some traffic,” the driver said, nodding at the parking lot of cars on the 5. Tobin sighed.

“I figured. It’s no problem . . . I left extra early just to be safe.”

Still, that meant he’d probably be in the car for more than three hours. He’d kept his phone off since the night before, mostly so he wouldn’t be tempted to text Lily like he’d almost done about twenty times the day before. He would’ve stuck it in the freezer if he wasn’t certain it would screw the device up completely. He turned it on now, thinking he’d fire up Among Us or League of Legends or even Clash of Clans. Hell, solitaire or Candy Crush would give him something mindless to do.

His phone started buzzing immediately, and he groaned. He had an unusual number of text messages, he noted, scrolling through.

HAYDEN: Dude, have you seen Lily’s video?

ASAD: Please tell me you saw Lily’s video.

SHAWN: Hey Goof—this you?

Attached was a link to an EverLily post. She’d put it up sometime that night—late, from the time stamp. He frowned.

He didn’t want to watch. It hurt just seeing her face in the tiny thumbnail. But he had, legitimately, twenty texts from friends telling him he “had” to see it. But, interestingly, nothing from Lily.

He was being a masochist. He didn’t care. He fired it up, opening the video and expanding the screen.

“Hi, it’s EverLily,” she said, in that soft, calming voice that he loved. But she sounded a little off, rough-husky with emotion. Even stranger, her face was free of makeup—which she’d done before, obviously, since it was the blank canvas from which she started all her makeup tutorials. This showed that her eyes were red and puffy from crying, though. She looked vulnerable. He’d never seen her exposed like this, and it shook him.

“This is going to be a little weird, but I wanted to let you know that I’m going to be making some adjustments to the channel,” she said, her voice faltering ever so slightly. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what I want, and why I want it. I’ve been working so hard on this channel, building a following and ‘developing my brand’”—she held up her fingers in air quotes—“that I sort of lost sight of what I was really doing.”

Tobin felt blindsided. She was thinking about all of this? Since when?

Finally,a little part of him thought, but he shook his head. She was hurting, and that killed him. He wanted to rush over there and gather her up, tell all the haters to fuck off, and tease her or cuddle her until she felt better. He wanted that so badly.

She took a deep breath. He noticed that her hair was in a loose ponytail, and she was wearing her old, faded Ponto Beach High School shirt. Her smile was lopsided. “I figured out I still love beauty and fashion. That’s a given. I also want to promise you: I am not going to be about the drama. I am never going to negatively review a product on this channel. There are plenty of other beauty influencers that do that, and I’m not judging their choices. I just know it’s not the right decision for me.”

Tobin straightened, feeling proud of her. Not that he’d done anything. Just that he got to see her make this decision and state it so straightforwardly.

“Today isn’t going to be a tutorial, or a fashion post,” Lily said. “Today, I’d like to make an apology.”

Tobin stiffened.

“I need to apologize to a lot of people,” she said, “but . . . well, let me put this into some context first.”

She went off camera for a moment, then came back holding up a photo. It was a matte eight-by-ten, and he recognized it immediately. It was her senior high school photo, one of those professional studio shots.

“In my defense, this was ten years ago, and those eyebrows and bangs were popular,” she said with a rueful smile. “Anyway, I was always interested in YouTube beauty videos. My family owned this clothing boutique, and . . . well. Long story short, I wanted to be popular. And I wasn’t.”

She pulled out another photo. She was scowling at the camera as she ate an ice cream cone. Next to her was Emily, who was laughing at something someone off camera said. Asad was shoving Hayden, and Josh was grinning. Tam was smiling at all of them.

“These were my best friends,” she said with a small smile. “We called ourselves the Nerd Herd, because we were all geeks and nerds and honors students. We got straight As. Weren’t invited to parties. Not many of us dated. Lot of social awkwardness. And I thought that I could prove I was good enough to get into the popular crowd. Needless to say, I got shot down.”

Tobin couldn’t help but stare. He didn’t know why she was peeling back the mask on her brand, but he felt his heart expand as he watched her take a sledgehammer to her carefully cultivated facade.

“The thing is, those friends? They had my back no matter what I did. I thought it was because we were all losers and we didn’t have anywhere else to turn. But I was stupid, and wrong. So wrong. I didn’t realize what I’d lost until recently. And a lot of that has to do with Tobin Bui.”

Tobin’s mouth dropped open.

“I mentioned that we’ve known each other for over twenty years,” she said, a small smile on those rosebud lips of hers. “For most of that time, I thought he drove me crazy. I thought he was ridiculous. But despite all that, he helped me when he didn’t have to, even when he knew we’d fight like cats and dogs—almost literally—when we started. Through him, I got to reconnect with the Nerd Herd. I’d forgotten what it was like to have friends who just wanted to be with me for me. I still have friends in the beauty community, like Mikki MUA and Valkyrie, but these friends have known me since before I had subscribers. One of them is my original subscriber.” She shook her head. “I have been such an idiot.”

Tobin stared raptly at the screen as Lily wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands.

“Tobin helped me with my career when he didn’t have to. But he also showed me there’s more to life than my brand and my channel,” she said. “He has been more wonderful than I can say. He’s one of the best people I know. And I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

He choked.

She said it. Right there. In front of millions of people.

“What started as a gag turned into something very real,” she said. “He’s taking a break, which he not only deserves but has every right to. And I wasn’t supportive. I was so fixated on pushing and stats and being a big success that I missed what mattered. He matters.”

This matters. You matter.

She suppressed a hiccup, then sent the camera a watery smile. “I just wanted to let you all know that my channel’s going to change a little. I’m still going to do beauty and fashion stuff, because I truly love it, and I love sharing my finds and tips with you. But I’m not going to be as crazy about my schedule. And I’m going to share more real stuff with you too.” She bit her lip. “I’m also going to keep some things private. I’m giving Tobin all the space he needs, and I know things might not work out, no matter how much I want it, or how hard I would push for it. He deserves all the time and love and support he can get. And for not seeing that sooner . . . I am unbelievably sorry.”

She signed off. He stared at the paused screen in blank shock for a long moment.

Was it real?

If it was . . . did he want to risk it?

She’d brought up the Herd. She’d posted an undeniably embarrassing picture of herself. She’d seen that she’d pushed him, and she’d apologized. She hadn’t called him herself, because she was respecting his boundary.

It was everything he’d wanted to hear.

God help him, he still loved her. And if there was a chance . . .

He needed to clear this up.

“Excuse me,” he said to the driver. “How hard is it to change the destination?”