Sophie’s earnest voice came through, though. “Maybe I can help?”
“It’s nothing.” He cracked his neck and intended to end the conversation and head back inside to deal with the email. He shouldn’t have even opened the door, but something had propelled him out of bed. And when he’d seen Sophie standing there, he couldn’t help but feel relief. He’d spent half the night wondering whether or not she was okay, but now he knew she was. He should’ve gone back into the house, but to his surprise, he continued, “I just got this email from my mom that kind of stressed me out. My dad is getting a star on the Walk of Fame, and she wants me to present it to him.”
“Wow, that sounds…” If he had to guess from the excited expression on her face, Sophie was probably about to finish her sentence with amazing! or fun! but then seemed to assess his demeanor and thought better of it. “But you don’t want to?”
“It’s complicated. I’d have to write a speech for him, but I don’t even know how to start something like that. I’ve never been great with words.” Dash fussed with his hair briefly. What he wouldn’t give for a long and intense workout to burn off some of the anxiety that filled him.
“Not to brag, but when I was in the fourth grade I won my class speech contest. So speeches are kind of my thing.” Sophie waggled her fingers in a razzle-dazzle gesture that made him chuckle, to his chagrin. “I could help write yours if you want. I do owe you.”
He was admittedly more than a little amused by the notion of her elementary-school speech qualifying her for this. “What did you write about?”
“Tractors. I made the argument that everyone should drive one.” Sophie absent-mindedly pushed a cuticle on her thumb back. “What? We grew up around a lot of farms, and they are honestly very cool.”
He tried his best to hold back a laugh, but a little one tumbled out as he said, “So just to be clear, you think writing about tractors would be the same as writing for the Hollywood elite?”
“That’s correct.” She cracked her knuckles in an intentional I-mean-business kind of way. “Did I mention they gave me a gift certificate to In-N-Out as a prize? Let’s just say I’m a big deal.”
He bit his lower lip. He didn’t want Sophie to feel like she owed him anything—she didn’t. So he’d change the subject, which was something he was quite good at. “Speaking of big deals, I saw your latest TikTok video. Are you going to document each meetup you have with your exes?”
“Do you think I should?” Her mouth stayed open just enough that her canine tooth poked out of the side. He hesitated, momentarily distracted.
“It would be pretty interesting. Ya know, you could kind of do an intro for each ex you’re about to see, then do an update after the meeting. You’d get a lot of video content and be able to create a narrative.”
She tapped an index finger against her downturned lower lip, which drew his attention to her mouth. He didn’t want to stare, so he asked a question. “Do you think it will help with your writing?”
She stopped the tapping and shrugged. The upward slope of her nose seemed like it would be an interesting shape to mimic for one of his craft projects. “It can’t hurt, since nothing else has worked and I’m kind of scrambling at this point. Did you like the video?”
“It was a solid response.” He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. “And TikTok loves authenticity,” Dash said. “That’s why your first video went viral. If you want to grow an audience, just be yourself. That’s what I do.”
He recognized his fatal error almost immediately. That’s what I do. As in, that’s what he does when he makes his own TikTok videos. He frowned. Maybe Sophie hadn’t noticed…
“Dash.” She cautiously said his name, and it came out breathy. Why did he like the sound of it so much? “When you say, ‘That’s what I do,’ do you mean that you make TikTok videos?”
“I did not say that.” He shook his head no, but a sly expression crossed her face.
“And, like, you have some account where you do what, exactly?” Now Sophie sounded almost amused, which he didn’t like at all. “Is your username just @DashMontrose? Does Poppy know?” Sophie took a phone out of her dress pocket, but Dash stopped her before she could open the app. Not that she’d ever find him.
“No, I just meant that I always try to be myself when I’m in front of the cameras. Like, in my past films, or whatever.”
Sophie looked up and just blinked for a few moments. “So you were trying to be yourself in that movie where you played a psychopath in a rabbit costume?”
“Especially for that role, yes.”
“Whatever you say.” Sophie quirked up her lip, as if about to push him more, but he didn’t want to explain himself.
His whole body felt warm from the very real threat of his anonymous account being discovered. If his parents knew how he was spending his days, they’d find a way to shut his TikTok down. He’d never let a slip like this happen before. What was wrong with him?
“Look, could you just not mention this to Poppy, please?”
She quickly nodded. “Okay, I won’t.”
“Good.” Dash straightened. Well, this was turning out to be a total mess. Not only had he managed to spill to Sophie that he was having trouble writing a speech for his dad, but now she knew he had a TikTok account. He really needed to stop answering his door.
“This might sound a little weird, but I need this TikTok thing to work.” Sophie pocketed her phone, perhaps as a show of good faith. “It’s kind of my last-ditch all is lost and I need to turn my career around moment. And it sounds like you know how to be successful on TikTok. You…may or may not have some account that I’ll never have the pleasure of seeing. But I would love your help to build mine into something meaningful. If I can use this awful viral video to help me get a big following and, who knows, get some creative juices flowing again, then that will change my life. So, like, maybe we can help each other here. I can write this speech for your dad, and you can give me video advice.”
He planned to solve his speech problem the good old-fashioned way by simply avoiding working on it. So he waved her suggestion off and grabbed the door frame to show he was ready to end the conversation. “You don’t need my help.”
“Social media really isn’t my thing.” Sophie took a step forward, and he was surprised that he didn’t mind having her close. “But I’m willing to get good at it if it means another book. And not to be dramatic, but if this doesn’t work, my life is over. So, like, please help me be better at TikTok.”
She clasped her hands in front of her chest, very much begging for help. “If I say please again, does that sweeten the deal?”
He wasn’t sure what to say. Her kind, almond-shaped eyes pleaded with him, and for whatever reason, he was inexplicably lingering when he should’ve simply closed the door. Why was he so stuck in place just from looking at her? Had he avoided other people for so long that now, when faced with one, he was at a loss for how to act?