Page 44 of Ripped & Shipped
“Okay, there’s just so much to unpack there. Chris, you’ll need to help us out. So far, it looks like Ella Mae got stood up, and my boy here stepped in and agreed to film with Ella Mae. Am I right, Chris?”
“Pretty much,” I say.
“Who is this Drake dude?”
“He’s another social media influencer. He was supposed to meet Ella Mae, but he was a no-show.”
“I see, I see,” Duke says with a voice that’s eerily like one of the guys on who announces Sunday NFL football. “And why would herpeepsbe callingyouMister Shoulders?”
I shake my head at Duke. “Seriously?”
“Do tell. There’s a roomful of men waiting to crack this mystery. And you know you’re not getting out of this, so …”
I sigh. He’s right.
“I turned my back on Ella Mae when she tried to film me at Bean There Done That, so some of her followers created a nickname.”
“And yet, here you are, willingly filming with her later that same week.”
“Seems like it.”
Duke smiles this smile that says more than I can explain. It’s this brotherly,I’ve got you, smile. As if all this is somehow for my good instead of their twisted version of entertainment.
Duke hits play. Ella Mae’s facing the screen telling her viewers, “My stomach’s growling and Chris here’s a big boy. Big Boy! Oh my gosh! He’s a big boy in a Big Boy! Anyway, he’s massive. I mean, look at those arms, ladies.”
Duke pauses. “A demo, please. Could we see those arms, Big Boy?”
This I can do.
I shove my T-shirt sleeves a little to expose more skin and flex up, and then down.
The room of idiots I call friends erupts in cheers like a group of teen girls at a Harry Styles concert. I laugh and brush my sleeves down.
This next part causes me to run a hand down my face. Ella Mae says, “Girls. Girls. Girls. Chris’ arms are as big as my legs. If I had a measuring tape we could measure my thigh circumference, and then measure around Chris’ bicep. He’d win, hands down.”
Duke pauses, “Aiden? Measuring tape?”
Aiden shakes his head. “Nah. We’re good. We all know Chris is massive.”
Aiden’s face is a combination of what looks like frustration and confusion. Is he upset that he didn’t know about me filming with Ella Mae before Duke brought this situation into the spotlight? I hold his gaze, a question in my expression. He tips his chin toward me. Okay. We’re good.
Ella Mae goes on to talk about me being hungry. She puts the menu in her stories. Her followers pick our meal. Duke’s smiling through it all, glancing over at me. I have to wonder what the point of all this is besides the usual humiliation of a good friend for fun.
Ella Mae has me talk to her followers.
“Say hi to my peeps, Chris.” And there I am, filling the big screen, saying “Hey,” with a little wave-salute.
Then she asks, “What’s more yummy? The burgers or this man? I’ll let you know in a bit.” She winks. “Now go pick our meals and we’ll be back shortly.”
Duke pauses the video.
Then, in a falsetto, he says, “I’m going with this man. So yummy! Am I right, guys?”
A chorus of high-pitched, “SO yummy!” fills the living room until we’re all laughing hard.
Duke fast forwards through the meal until the part where Ella Mae reaches over and wipes my face. I relive the experience watching it as if I’m a nosy fly on the wall at the diner.
“Here, Soldier, let me get that for you,” Ella Mae says, her tone flirty, but I know she wasn’t intentionally flirting with me. It was all for show. But on the screen, it looks so real. I remember she had just let out this giggle that felt so unguarded and natural.
