“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.
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.