Page 105 of Lucky
Hundreds.Then thousands.Notifications rolling in so fast my screen glitches.
@penguinfan88:This is what a real man looks like.
@thehockeymomlife:Winnie doesn’t deserve an ounce of this hate.Sending love.
@spilledmatchalatte:We ride at dawn for Winnie Shaw.
@bransonfan42:Who hurt Winnie??Drop their @.I just wanna talk.
A few trolls pop in—predictable, tired insults.But they barely last two minutes before they’re buried in replies.People call them out, stitch their profiles, push them back into the dark corners they crawled from.
I can’t stop scrolling.
It’s like a flood of light.Comment after comment.Messages of support for Winnie.For kindness.For not letting online hate win.
This was what my mom told me to do.Be louder than the hate.
My thumb’s still twitching when my phone buzzes with a call.
Foster.
I answer instantly.“Yo.What’s up?”
“Just saw your post,” he says, his voice low but steady.“Well, Mazzy saw it first and shoved her phone in my face.You okay?”
I blow out a breath.“Not really.But I’ll be fine.”
“Well, I just called to tell you we’re backing you up.You’re not carrying this alone.Besides, Winnie is one of us and no one fucks with one of us.”
I laugh, the first time in the last few hours that I’ve felt a bit lighter in my heart.“I appreciate it, man.”
“We’re getting ready to rally the rest of the gang.Those assholes posting that negative stuff have no clue who they’re fucking with.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say, shaking my head in amusement.
Foster’s tone is deadly.“Dude… you’re talking about a very serious issue.Bullying won’t be tolerated.Not against Winnie, not against anyone.And we’re all going to stand tough around your girl.”
“Hopefully she’s still my girl,” I mutter, rubbing my jaw.“That might take a little more work.”
“I have faith in you, brother.Listen, I’m out of here.Mazzy wants us to film our TikTok.She’s created the hashtag #BeKindLikeWinnie.”
“Love it.”
“We’ll flood the app with it.Make the algorithm work for us for once.”
I nod even though he can’t see it, my chest aching in the best way.“Thanks,” I say, voice rough now.“For this.For all of it.”
“You don’t have to thank me.You just have to let us show up.”
We disconnect and I stare at my phone again.
The comment count keeps rising.The support isn’t slowing down and it looks like the trolls have been quelled at least for now.
And in the pit of all this chaos, one thing shines through.
Winnie’s not alone.
Not anymore.
