Chapter Eight • Like My Post?

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Valentina

"OH. MY. GOD." Millie's piercing scream makes my ears feel like they're bleeding.

"I fucking knew I picked a cute one!" Carrie claps her hands.

We all watch Kiwi run around in her little sweater. It's a gray base with color streaks all over. A small turtleneck that makes the fur at her neck stick out.

When I took her to the vet a week ago, they told me she was a long-haired chihuahua, and she was only 4 months old.

Millie, Cassie, and I have been potty-training her, teaching her tricks, cuddling her way too much. Almost as much as we give her treats.

I've only posted about one thousand pictures on my Instagram. And seeing as though we just bought her a new sweater... a thousand more.

"I think I'm experiencing cuteness overload." I put my hands on my heart and slowly sink down to the floor.

"I'll never be the same. My firstborn child is so beautiful!" Millie tears up a little at her own statement.

I pull out my phone to join the girls in taking a million pictures.

I caption the post: Kiwi, Vogue Model 🥝🐾

***

Mark

It's a Saturday night and I'm spending it the best way I know how: lounging on my living room couch, a beer in hand, Milo sleeping next to me, and whatever movie I find tonight.

I've been trying to kill my urge to search up Valentina's Instagram all night.

A few days ago in class she told me about how much she'd been posting of Kiwi. This peaked my interest in the rest of her Instagram.

I've managed to convince myself not to look her up but it's particularly hard tonight. Probably because of my idiot friends.

Nebraskan Idiots 🤬
Will: dude check it out
Will: (image)

Josh: YOU FOUND HER BEFORE I DID
Josh: that's actually surprising and a little upsetting
Josh: but only a little cus I follow her and you don't

Me: why the fuck do you follow her?
Me: leave the poor woman alone

Josh: you're just jealous that she follows me back 💁‍♂️

Me: 🖕🏼

Will: ladies, ladies, calm the fuck down

After that, Josh and Will started blowing up the chat with jokes at my expense.

I finally give in and open up my Instagram. I search her user tag that I got from Wills picture. I click on it, my heart beating wildly.

I scroll through the first couple of posts, seeing pictures of Kiwi, then some of her friends and Kiwi. And then my breath hitches, there she is. She's wearing a short, purple sundress at the beach.

Suddenly, I feel determined to scroll to the very bottom of her page and find her first post.

I scroll and scroll. My phone almost slips out of my hand and I grab it quickly.

That's when my heart stops.

I accidentally liked one of her posts. From one fucking year ago. And to make matters all the worse, it's a damn bikini picture.

My heart beats a little harder at that fact but I choose to ignore that and ignore the tug I feel in the pit of my stomach.

What the fuck do I do now? Do I unlike the picture? Would that be rude? She's probably already gotten the notification. She's probably filling a police report and grabbing her gun.

Fuuuuccckkkk.

***

Valentina

I look at the notification again. Then again. Then twice more. Every time, turning my phone on and off to make sure it's real.

"Millie! Carrie!" I hear no response so I keep calling out to them. "Help!"

My voice is a little wobbly, the nerves in my chest bubbling.

They both come running through the door, worried looks on their faces. Millie's holding a frying pan.

"Are you okay?" Carrie walks a little closer.

"Where's the intruder?" Millie asks, lifting the pan a little higher.

"Uhm." I flip my phone around for them to see.

Mark_Holloway_74 liked your post.

Carrie's mouth drops open. Millie drops the frying pan, her eyes blown wide.

"OW, FUCK." She clutches at her toe, which she dropped said frying pan on.

"Help. Me." I say through gritted teeth, my nerves rising more and more with each second.

Millie grabs my phone and sits down next to me on the bed. Carrie sits on her other side.

Mills presses on the notification and they both gasp when they see what post he's liked.

My cheeks flush and I pull a hand to my mouth.

"Val." Millies voice is serious but still amused. "This man... is down fucking bad for you."

"He is not!" I yell, snatching the phone out of her hand but careful not to close the post.

"Uhm, hate to break it to you hon but Millie's right." Carrie sides with Millie. "He liked your bikini post. From one year ago."

"Certified Insta stalker." Millie adds. "He is obsessed."

"The thing we should be focusing on is: what the fuck do I do now?" I fall back onto my bed and pull a pillow over my face.

"I think you should march into his office, expose him, and then have hot sex on his desk." Millie crunches a chip loudly after sharing her lovely thoughts.

"You need help. Like mentally." I tell her with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

"I say you play it however he does." Carrie, my dear friend, has made a very good point.

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Yikes, don't you hate it when that happens??

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Thanks for reading,
Mia x

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