unpopped: chapter four

I’ve been thinking about Delilah and Lydia so much my head hurts. I even made fake Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram accounts to stalk Lydia’s posts from middle school. Of course Delilah doesn’t have a Facebook. I feel like Delilah had to have a Tumblr in middle school. Maybe she doesn’t have social media either? Well, that wouldn’t make sense because she’s definitely eGirl material. I don’t know. All I know is I couldn’t find any online presence tied to Delilah Marks. And after hours of stalking my best friend’s social media accounts I finally found something that included both of them.

Lydia’s mom posted a picture of Lydia and a girl that looks like a younger Delilah six years ago. Six years ago means we were in seventh grade? Maybe sixth grade? It was a picture of Lydia with a beautiful (and dorky) girl that had to be Delilah Marks. Their arms were linked and they both had bright purple braces. They looked gangly and nervous in the uniform skirts that were too big on them. It was an adorable picture and I couldn’t believe that they had been friends. I wonder what Delilah did? I mean, Lydia obviously has no chill and is difficult to get along with when she’s set on achieving a goal. I wonder what happened between them.

I look at the clock and gasp when I see that it’s three in the morning. I have class tomorrow.

Oh fuck. I need to send Delilah the finished Frida Nipple post. This is the beginning of my anonymity. I hope there aren’t any glaring grammatical errors but maybe that could count as language abolitionism? Whatever. I just need to get it to her. I’m already past the deadline she originally asked for.

***

“Hey.” I nod to Lydia. She’s in the kitchen making a pot of coffee and finishing up listening to her morning news podcast.

“Oh, hey.” Lydia doesn’t even look up at me. So it seems she will not be forgiving me or Delilah any time soon.

“Is everything okay?” I ask while grabbing an apple from our fruit bowl. My phone starts chiming.

“Everything’s fine. Are you gonna answer that?” Lydia looks at my phone.

I deleted the social media accounts I made last night and Lydia’s the only person that texts me so I’m not sure where all these notifications are coming from.

I pick my phone up and almost throw it across the room. My Frida Nipple post was live. And it seems like everyone was loving it. Well, almost everyone. But a lot of people were really liking it. I totally forgot that I gave Delilah permission to forward notifications about the post to my email account. It had only been live for two hours and already it had two hundred views. Thirteen people had commented. Seventy people had liked the post! I’m starting to get why people get addicted to social media. This is such an adrenaline rush. Did I even know two hundred people?

“What is it?” Lydia asks. She’s a professional at getting annoyed before noon.

“My Frida Nipple post is live!”

“No fucking way. Let me see.” Lydia grabs my phone and scans through the article. “Damn Erin this is actually so good.”

My phone starts to ring, “Hello?”

“Are you seeing this bitch? You’re about to become famous! People love you.”

“Okay Delilah they love Frida they don’t love me.” I knew it was Delilah calling before I even looked at the caller ID.

“Irrelevant! Ditch class with me. Let’s celebrate downtown. My friend lives above a brewery that’s supposed to have an insane brunch.” She sounds breathless. I can hear cars honking around her.

“Sorry Delilah I can’t miss out on another class this month. Wanna grab coffee afterwards though?”

“Hmm. Let me know if you can pencil me in Miss Celebrity!” Delilah giggles before hanging up.

“Let me guess...that was Delilah?” Lydia rolls her eyes.

“I don’t get why you can’t just tell me what happened between you two.”

Lydia grabs her bag and starts heading for the door, “It’s ancient history and she’s literally dead to me. I just don’t want to see my best friend get caught up in her bullshit too.” The door clicks behind her.

***

“I cannot believe we have five hundred views and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. This is so fucking awesome.” Delilah sips a mug of coffee. Her legs kick up around her and I almost don’t notice that she’s wearing a Pine Hill Phys. Ed. t-shirt. I really should just ask her what happened between her and Lydia. I’m about to ask when I decide against it. She’ll tell me eventually right?

“I cannot believe that five hundred people want to read my stuff. There’s barely been any hate comments on it too.” I try to count how many rude comments have been left on the post. They’re mostly written by dads in the area saying that college students shouldn’t waste valuable studying time thinking about crushes. I can’t wait to hear what they have to say once we get into more salacious territories.

“I’m gonna be pissed if we don’t get any hate mail soon. Like, if a Frida Nipple article doesn’t send Pioneer shaking what’s the fucking point? Triple X is not supposed to be another edition of the Pioneer Press. We’re gonna have to amp it up for next week’s article if you can handle that?” Delilah leans across her sofa to look me in the eyes, “This is so awesome Erin. You’re already making a huge mark. Fuck Yourself Fun Fest is gonna be ridiculous.”

I swish my iced coffee around, “When is Fuck Yourself again?”

“Friday. It’s gonna be so insane. Please tell me you’re coming to the meeting this Thursday. Let’s get drinks before. You can meet the exec board. They’re totally obsessed with you.” Delilah grabs a Sharpie and writes down the name of a bar on my forearm, “Meet me there at four-thirty on Thursday okay? I’ll buy you a drink as long as you promise to come. Make sure you look nice. They’re kind of your classic business men but I promise they’re cool.”

“I’ll be there.” My head feels loose and I forgot to ask about Lydia but my class is about to start and I can’t be late. I have an exam in Dr. Wilson’s Feminist Theory seminar today.

***

The week dragged on. My phone continued to buzz nonstop. I was getting so many notifications I had to disable alerts for my email. I almost sent them all to spam but decided against it. Everyone was trying to figure out who Frida Nipple was. People are gonna lose their shit once the Fuck Yourself Fun Fest happens.

I haven’t seen Lydia for more than five minutes since Monday. I think she’s been spending most nights at Cooper’s place. If I was a good friend I’d probably ask her how they’re doing but I keep forgetting to text her.

Do you wanna walk to the happy hour together?

I ask Delilah because I’m hoping for more alone time with her and because I’m not super certain where the meeting is.

Sorry Erin, I’m already here. See you soon!

My stomach sinks. I guess I should head out now. The Sharpie on my forearm washed away after one shower and I was an idiot that forgot to write it down somewhere more permanent.

Where’s the meeting again?

God could I sound more desperate.

McKelvey’s.

Hmm. I’ll have to GPS that. I really don’t go off campus a lot. Or, really ever.

***

It was only a fifteen minute walk from my apartment but it felt like eight years. I listened to four Britney Spears songs by the time I made it to the brewery. Downtown is just half-hearted skyscrapers and wide sidewalks. Wind whips between alleyways and I’m reminded that Lake Michigan is only an hour away.

“Erin! I’m so glad you could make it.” Delilah looks stunning in leather pants and a crochet tank top. Her thick ankles wobble in platform boots. She must be a few drinks in already.

“Hey! Sorry if I’m late I totally didn’t know where I was going.” Delilah takes my coat off my shoulders and directs me to our table.

“No worries at all girlfriend. I’m happy I could convince you to come. We just ordered our second round of drinks so I’m sure the server will be back soon.” Delilah’s lips look so soft. She really does melt my chest into a puddle.

“Gentlemen, this is Erin. She’s our infamous Frida Nipple.” Delilah places her manicured hands on my shoulders and I instantly feel naked. I was wearing another sweater and jeans but her hands found the bare skin above my collarbone.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Nipple.” A white man in a suit lifts his glass as if to say cheers. “My name is Andrew Donovan.”

“Carl Williams.”

“Wyatt Sanders.”

The three men blurred into one another. They look expensive.

“Mr. Donovan, Mr. Williams, and Mr. Sanders are actually the founders of Triple X. They came up with the idea five years ago and thought that Pioneer should have its own chapter.” Delilah beams before taking a sip of her vodka soda.

Chapter? So there’s more than one Triple X?

“Oh please. The campus was begging for a Triple X. Think of how boring Pioneer was before Triple X came around.” Andrew Donovan laughs.

“I honestly can’t even imagine Pioneer being more boring.” I try to pull the words back into my mouth but the three men and Delilah break out into laughs.

“You’re a funny girl.” Carl Williams chuckles. “Please give us a peek into what you have planned for next week’s post? Your adorable essay on crushes has everyone talking.”

I’m about to say that I don’t have anything planned when Delilah cuts in, “Oh please. Did you really think Frida would give away her secrets like that. You’ll have to wait until it’s published.”

“Fine fine.” Carl throws his hands up.

“So, D, tell us again about your big event that you have planned for tomorrow?” Wyatt Sanders adjusts his posture.

Delilah beams, “So. We’re going to have a Fuck Yourself Fun Fest tomorrow afternoon in the quad. The meeting tonight is going to be wholly dedicated to the event. We’re going to pass out vibrators, spray paint graffiti art all over the administration building, and just cause chaos.”

“And we’ve agreed to use the brands that I told you about? I have four hundred vibrators in storage that you can use if we want to continue our partnership with them.” Carl Williams lowers his voice.

“Have you reminded your artists of what kinds of graffiti we’re endorsing? I don’t want this to get out of hand.” Isn’t the whole point of this event that it’s going to get out of hand?

I don’t understand anything they’re talking about and look at Delilah. Hopefully she gets the hint that I am going to need a debrief later. Right now I just have to keep smiling and pretend that I know what’s going on.

***

An hour and four vodka sodas later, we’re stumbling on our way to the Triple X meeting when Delilah stops walking. “I need a light right now. There’s no way I can handle leading a meeting right now if I don’t.”

She leans against a building wall and pulls a box of Marlboro Golds out. “Do you want one?”

I shake my head. I feel like I’m spinning. I have never been to something as professional as a happy hour with people in suits. I can’t believe I looked so shlumpy during it. I really need to ask Delilah to lend me some of her clothes.

“So what’d you think? Aren’t they cool?” Delilah blows a curl of smoke into the wind. It smells like my grandma.

“They’re pretty intimidating. I had no idea Triple X was so corporate.” I laugh. Delilah blows another puff of smoke in my direction.

“Well how else do you think we pay for the space? The vibrators? Everything?” She sounds angry but I can’t tell if she’s joking.

“No you’re totally right. There’s always a business side to things. I just forget about that sometimes.” I’m tipsy and just want to keep hanging out with Delilah.

“We should get going. The meeting’s gonna start any minute now.” Delilah throws the butt onto the sidewalk and stamps it out. I immediately feel like I’ve done something wrong.

***