"Love Over Likes"
It was the last day of summer and I was determined to go to the beach. The weather was a perfect 85 degrees and the water was cold, but not too cold. Not like I was going to go swimming anyway. I’m not interested in going out and actually doing things. We just need to go pose for a couple cute pictures and make it look like were having fun, that’s what everyone does now anyway. I had on the cutest pink bikini, with silver sequins on the top. I bought it specifically for today. Over my bathing suit was a long, white sheer cover up, it opened in the front and flowed behind me as I walked. I adjusted my oversized silver reflective sunglasses on my head and looked in the mirror. Perfect. My friends were annoyed with me.
“Cassie why do you have to apply full make up to go to the beach,” Jenna rolls her eyes at me as pucker my lips and put on my fluorescent lip gloss. “You never know where there could be a good spot for an Insta pic.” I shoot back at her.
We all pile in my white Mazda, beach chairs, coolers, towels and everything in the back. I’ll never get tired of the drive to the beach. Just an hour away from my town Windermere, Florida that always seems so small and slow. Watching it disappear in the distance out of my rearview mirror, was so satisfying. As we pull into the parking lot by the beach it is filled with families and enthusiastic kids. Everyone is taking in the last day of summer, before were all subjected to sitting in a classroom for 8 hours a day and the weather drops 20 degrees leaving everyone cold and bitter. I will always be happiest in the summertime.
Right after we set up our spot on the beach, I drag my friend Jenna down to the water and hand her my phone.
“Here we go again,” Jenna says, but she crouches down on her knees anyway, to get the best angles.
I begin to alternate poses, shifting on my feet, standing to the side, doing a fake laugh, putting my arms out, almost anything that I think might look cute. I’m pretty much a pro at posing for pictures by now. I stick my right leg in front of me and pop my hip out, pouting my lips. I see people looking at me out of the corner of my eye, but I could care less.
“Ok, ok I’m done,” I say to Jenna and grab my phone back from her. “Thank you.” She just laughs.
After about 20 minutes of selecting the right picture, editing it to absolute perfection, and thinking of a clever caption, I post the picture to my Instagram. I’ve recently hit 20,000 followers, which, is a pretty big deal. Considering I’ve lived in the same small town my whole life and nothing exciting ever happens. When I made my first social media page in 7th grade I finally found pride in something. The idea of having thousands of people following me and my every move, is inspiring, it fuels my sense of purpose.
Later that night I waited on the couch for my parents to get home. I’ve gotten used to being home alone, I actually like it. With both of my parents being surgeons, I’ve gotten quickly accustomed to life on my own. I used to wish I had different parents, one’s that constantly smothered me and made me dinner every night, but now I like the freedom of it. Most kids my age are constantly getting in trouble with their parents, keeping secrets from them and wishing they didn’t ask so many questions. My mom almost never asks questions, she just listens to me talk, nodding her head and acting like she’s interested. I don’t feel bad for myself, if anything I consider myself lucky.
When I had decided my parents probably weren’t going to be home till later, I made myself dinner. It was already 9 and I had spent hours scrolling through my social media pages, taking selfies, sending snapchats, just the usual. Setting my alarm for 7:00 am physically pained me. I looked through my closet and tried on different outfits for almost an hour before I decided on a mini black and white polka dot dress, with pink leather boots. It’s senior year, so I have to make a bold fashion statement the first day. When I went to bed that night I couldn’t sleep, I tossed and turned, I’ve been going to school for 12 years now, it’s not like I’m nervous, I just had a feeling something was going to change.
I was already running late but I refused to the leave house without getting a good picture. After I successfully posted it to my page, I looked through the list of caption ideas I had already put in my notes the night before. I settled with an Oscar Wilde quote, “You can never be overdressed or overeducated.”
Pulling into my parking spot felt all too familiar. I could see my group of friends standing around their cars, laughing. Before I even got out of the car, I could hear my friends yelling my name, waving me over to come stand with them. I got out of my car and started to walk towards them, people smiled at me, waving friendly. Everyone at school knows who I am. ‘The girl with a lot of followers,’ people would say. I just laugh and smile when I hear that, it makes me feel good when people know who I am. I’m in high school, I thrive off the popularity. Walking through the halls with my friends was like something out of a movie, arms linked, laughing, hair blowing, and everyone staring.
AP Literature was my first class of the day, I let out a dramatic exasperated sigh when I saw a reading assignment already on the white board.
“Good morning to you too, Mrs. Daunt,” my AP Lit teacher, Mr. Robertson said looking right at me.
I hate to read; I seriously don’t have the attention span for it. I pretended to listen to my teacher talk about the syllabus, while I went on Instagram behind my computer, checking my likes on the picture I posted this morning. Only 6,000 likes so far. Weird. Maybe it’s because I posted early in the morning. The time you post on Instagram directly affects the amount of likes you get. I’ve been able to prove this, considering, when I post to my page at nighttime around 8-9, I get significantly more likes. It’s a very technical operation and more intense than some people may think, being a social media influencer, that is.
I’m taken out of my train of thought when the door to my English class opens. He was the most beautiful boy I have ever seen. He’s tall, definitely six foot, with broad shoulders, I can’t see his arms under the jean jacket he’s wearing, but I bet there strong. He brushed his ruffled brown hair back with his hand, revealing bright green eyes. I think I’m in love. I start to imagine how he would look in pictures, particularly in pictures with me. A picture with him carrying me bridal style would be cute, and it would show off his muscles, I smile to myself. The dynamic of my Instagram could completely change if I had a boy to show off. Dinner dates, beach trips, school dances, my likes would skyrocket. I then remember I don’t even know his name yet.
He’s still standing awkwardly by the door with his hands in his pockets. If he wasn’t so cute, I would think what he was doing is weird, standing there, not interrupting our teacher from going on and on about the books we’re going to read this semester. Every girl in the class has their head in a full-on turn staring at this man and totally ignoring our teacher.
“Oh, I’m sorry, got caught up there,” Mr. Robertson adjusts his glasses and holds his arm out gesturing the boy to come to the middle of the class.
“This is Josh Sikes, he’s a new student from New York,” Mr.Robertson says casually like he doesn’t understand this is a huge deal. “Take your seat.”
A new boy at a school, and a cute one, he will be the talk of the week. People were whispering to each other and I can already hear the rumors flying around. He’s walking right towards me like he’s going to come up to me and say something. I’m trying not to make eye contact but he’s staring at me. I cross my legs in my seat, clasp my hands at stare directly in front of me. He takes the seat right behind me. I’m screaming, in my own head.
The rest of the class was a waste, I couldn’t focus on anything Mr. Robertson was saying, not like I’m an avid listener or anything. I could feel him staring at that back of my head and it made my cheeks flush. That’s the only place he could look I guess but for some reason, I felt like he was staring at me. I was seconding guessing the hairstyle I chose to wear. My thick brown hair was perfectly straightened, and I wondered if he thought it looked good, or boring.
When the bell rung, I was relieved. I got out of my chair slowly, waiting for the new boy to say something to me while I watched him pack his bag out of the corner of my eye. I roll my eyes turn my body to face him directly, he’s still sitting in his chair. I place both hands on his desk and lean forward
“So, you’re from New York.” I say before I even have the chance to think about.
“I mean, Syracuse, not really the New York you’re thinking of,” he smiles and looks up at me.
We walk out of class and down the hall, making small talk. I learned he moved to Windermere with his dad and brother. H told me he plays lacrosse and I told him I could go introduce him to the lacrosse coach right now, he just laughed and told me not to worry about it.
“Well I’m heading to my next class, it’s government and I’m guessing you can tell me where that it is,” he said.
“Down the hall, last room on the left.” I smiled and looked down.
I wasn’t sure if he was flirting with me or being rude, I went to turn around and walk back towards my locker, but he grabbed by arm and stopped me.
“I’m Josh by the way,” he stuck out his hand and brushed his other one over his hair shifting from foot to foot.
I looked at him strangely then smiled, “Cassie.”
When I got home from school, I attempted to find Josh on social media; I say attempted because he didn’t come up anywhere. No Instagram, no Twitter, no Snapchat, not even a Facebook. What 17-year-old in high school doesn’t have social media?
I made it my personal mission to find out more about him. Every day in English class I would make small talk with him. He made the lacrosse team and apparently, he’s really good. He already has a lot of friends and it’s only been a couple weeks. We talked about my friends, my family, the crazy things me and my friends did this summer. Talking to Josh was easy. I learned that he is really smart, he read the book we were assigned for English in two days. I’m not even sure how, I told him it takes me two days to read just one page of Wuthering Heights. He laughed, then I laughed, and we made direct eye contact and I felt awkward, so I looked down.
“I could help you, if you want, I mean,” he stuttered on the last word.
“I would really like that, today during lunch,” I turned back in my seat before he could answer, I knew class would start soon. “Sounds good,” he said and pulled a piece of my hair.
He was definitely flirting with me, and I had been flirting with him, I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that he doesn’t have social media. Or maybe he does and it’s just some weird username. I haven’t asked yet, because I didn’t know what to say. It’s not like it’s a secret to anyone that I have 20,000 Instagram followers. But he hasn’t asked me about it yet, which kind of bothered me.
When it came time for lunch I waited at a table in the library. I answered some snapchats on my phone, using the filters and making weird faces into my camera.
“Why are you taking pictures of yourself?” Josh came out of nowhere and threw his backpack on the table. “It’s Snapchat,” I responded waving my phone at him.
He didn’t say anything back to that.
“So, Wuthering Heights, how much have you actually read.”
The rest of our time in the library was spent laughing, talking, and not too much discussion about Wuthering Heights. I decided to just ask, because it’s not that big of a deal and I don’t know why I’m making it a big deal.
“Do you have an Instagram?” there, I spit it out.
“No,” he looks at me weird, “Why?”
“I tried to look you up, and nothing came up,” I’m so uncomfortable, looking everywhere but in his eyes.
“So, you stalked me,” he smirks.
“I did not,” I say defensively.
“Well, it kind of sounds like you did,” he’s laughing.
“Seriously you don’t even have a Facebook; I was so confused.” I finally looked at him, suddenly not so embarrassed.
“I just don’t see the point,” Josh says.
“Point of?” I say, I’m confused.
“The point of Instagram, or social media, I just don’t care to show off what I’m doing to the world.” “It’s all superficial anyway right?” he says looking right into my eyes.
Ouch. I think he can tell I’m stunned or in a state of shock.
“Hello, earth to Cassie?” he waves his hand in front of my face.
“No, um I feel the same way.” I lie, I didn’t know what to say and I just like him so much.
“But you still have social media’s?” he questions, “I mean yeah, just to keep up with my friends,” I lie again.
The rest of the time in the library while he reads Wuthering Heights to me, I’m freaking out, on the inside. I’ve just lied to this boy, that I really like, about one of the biggest parts of my life. How am I supposed to act like I don’t care about social media? I’m not sure if I’m physically capable of that. He invites me to a party after the lacrosse game on Friday, before he walks away from the table at the library, he leans down towards my face, I feel like he’s about to scream “Liar,” but instead he gives me a quick peck on the cheek.
“See you then,” he says and flashes a big smile.
I’m left in the library, dumbfounded, confused, happy, guilty, and a little sad, I sit there till the librarian yells at me to go to class.
The next few weeks Josh and I spend a lot of time together. We go to parties, he helps me with English homework, we get dinner, I even met his little brother when we picked him up from soccer practice. When I’m with him, I can’t go on my phone and it drives me crazy. I can see the Instagram likes and snapchats popping up on my phone screen, but I’m scared to open them, afraid of what Josh will think. A couple times, I’ve secretly taken photos of us, holding hands while we walk, selfies while he’s driving, I just wish I could take real photos with him. I dream about the thousands of cute poses we could do. I know it’s not good that I’m lying to him, but it’s too late and I’m paranoid he won’t like the real version of me. The version that’s obsessed with her image on Instagram. Every day goes by and I tell myself I’m going to tell him, but I don’t. I just love spending time with him. He makes me laugh, he listens to me, he makes me feel important for other reasons besides how many followers I have. My friends thought I was crazy, when I told them to not mention social media in front of Josh when we all hang out.
“It’s like your living a double life,” Jenna said to me one night curling the ends of my hair, getting ready for a party.
“I’m not Hannah Montana, and besides it’s really not that big of a deal,” I say casually.
“I mean, yes, it is a big deal, all you used to talk about is your Instagram following, and that we need to get dressed up to take pictures. Oh, and you can’t tell me that he changed you, because you still post to your Instagram every day, which I’m not even sure how, considering you’re with Josh all the time now.” Jenna says pulling on my hair, brushing it hard.
“Ow, ok I get it, I’m an awful person.” I say moving my chair away from her and putting a small clip in my hair.
“You’re not an awful person, Cassie, you know that, but no strong relationship starts off with a lie” she squeezes my hand, “C’mon let’s go.”
I zip up my velvet knee high boots and smooth over my red ruffled dress. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh. I might feel bad, but at least I look good.
On the way to the party I couldn’t stop thinking about what Jenna said. I felt awful about lying to Josh, but mostly I felt awful about lying to myself about who I really am.
He found out that night, and it wasn’t pretty. The party was in full swing, drunk teenagers dancing, singing, and playing beer bong. From across the room I watched a drunk, dumb lacrosse player shove his phone in Josh’s face. I couldn’t quite tell what was happening, but it didn’t look good. When I looked up next Josh was in my direct eyeline, coming straight towards me.
“Hey,” I try to smile big and act drunk, avoiding the conversation I know is about to happen.
“I know you haven’t had one drink, let’s go talk.” Josh said, unusually calm.
“I just heard the weirdest thing from Riley (the drunk, dumb lacrosse player)” Josh said.
I act confused, “He was showing me how hot he thought you looked in your latest Instagram picture, and how it got over 20,000 likes.” He just looked at me searching my face. I was expressionless, I didn’t know what to do or what to say.
“Why did you lie to me?” he was genuinely upset, and I could feel my face start to turn red.
I start to panic, talking really fast, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry you just said all of that stuff about how you feel about Instagram and I didn’t know what to do. I thought you would you think I’m shallow or self-centered.”
“Well, are you?” he said, “because all you seem to care about is what people think of you, what I think of you, and what you’re 20,000 followers think of you.”
That hurt, “I- I’m sorry,” I stutter, I’m shocked, speechless and beyond embarrassed.
“I think you need to think about how you feel about yourself, your real self, and then come talk to me.” he walked away, and left me there, more confused and upset than ever.
People from inside were staring at me from the window, I could feel my face turn red again. I turned around and sat on the step, my phone was buzzing, probably Jenna calling me. I didn’t pick it up though, I just sat there, contemplating everything that just happened, I even pinched my arm to make sure it wasn’t some awful nightmare. It wasn’t.
The next week of my life was pretty significant. I took what Josh said to heart and started to think about the things I like about myself. I imagined that I never had a social media, or a following. Would I still feel worthy? I should and I’m working on feeling that way. It’s hard, when my Instagram has felt like a part of my identity. I talked to my mom; I mean really talked to her for the first time in a long time. I told her everything that happened, and she told me everything she loves about me. I became more confident in myself from that moment on, my true self, not the girl I portrayed on social media.
I still check my Instagram, I can’t help myself, but I don’t obsess over it like I used to. It’s only been two weeks and I’ve found myself more present in every aspect of life. I haven’t talked to Josh since that night. I avoid him at all costs at school. It’s not that I don’t want to go up and talk to him, I do, I really do. He’s the first person who called me out, who could realize my true insecurities. I also still feel horrible for lying to him.
One Thursday I was lying in bed, on my phone, looking at shoes on the Bloomingdale’s website, when I got a notification on my phone and my eyes nearly bulged out of my head. An Instagram direct message from @JoshSikes, it said, ‘I miss you.’ I held my phone to my chest and sighed, I didn’t stop smiling that whole night.
The next day I was sitting in the library during lunch, trying to read our new AP Lit book, ‘A Tale of Two Cities,’ when someone interrupted me and said,
“Are you actually reading any of that?”
I look up and Josh is standing there, looking so charming in his navy pullover and his hair brushed back.
“I’m trying,” I say hesitantly.
He sits down next to me, it's silent for probably about 30 seconds before we both turn to each other and begin to talk.
“You go first,” he says
“I’m sorry, I truly am, about lying about my Instagram, I didn’t want you to think badly of me because I know how you felt about it. But, I’m not sorry about being me, and I’m not going to change who I am to please you or anyone. I like social media and I like my Instagram and I’m not sorry.” I let out a breath, I felt relieved, I felt good.
He just looked at me, then smiled, “I don’t want you to change who you are for me, I never did, I like you just the way you are, more now.”
“So” I say dramatically, dragging out the O. “You’re on Instagram now?” I raise my eyebrows, teasing him.
“Only for you,” he replies and pulls me into a hug.
I’ve missed him too.
Falling in love with Josh was easy, the excitement I feel when I’m with him causes butterflies in my stomach. He helped me love myself, for me, which made him love me even more. We spend the rest of senior year together, reading books, driving in the car with the windows down, going to parties, and I even got him to pose for a selfie, once.