Page 113 of Songbird: Black Kite
Literally. That jackass cost me half a million dollars in settlement. Fucker.
“Your mom? Where is she now?”
“In Los Angeles. She’s looking forward to meeting you, actually.”
“She is?” Cooper sounded skeptical, and I frowned.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t she be?”
“My mom’s mom doesn’t talk to us,” she answered, the hurt evident in her voice. “I bet having a grandma would be pretty cool. It’s always just been me and mom and Auntie Bri.”
“Oh, Cooper. You have so much more than just a grandma. You have a whole heap of uncles waiting for you, too. But I’m warning you; they’re pretty crazy. You might have to get used to them in small doses. Especially Alex. That guy’s probably certifiable, but he gets away with it because he’s a rock star, you know?”
“Alex? Like, Alex Greenwood from your band?”
“Yeah. Did you Google him, too?” I asked, nudging her playfully with my shoulder.
Cooper ducked her head, a shy smile growing on her pretty face.
“A little.”
“Well, whatever you do, don’t tell him. He’s already conceited enough. I don’t need him thinking that my kid has been looking at him online. He’ll never let me forget it. And remember not to believe everything you read on the internet. That’s why I stay off of it.”
“You really don’t search anyone?”
“I tried to search your mom, actually, but I couldn’t find anything.”
“No kidding,” she scoffed, finally unclenching her arms from around her knees and stretching her legs out toward the lake. “She has, like, a complete ban on using our real names on social media. It’s why we both have Finstas.”
“You have a what now?” I asked, completely confused.
“A Finsta. You know, a fake Insta?” When I just continued to stare blankly, she went on. “It’s an Instagram account that’s not at all connected to your real name. People make them all the time so they can stalk their exes or post stuff they don’t want their parents seeing. Mom said it was the only way she’d allow me to do anything online. We both have them, but she hardly ever uses hers.”
Of course. That made total sense. No way would Wren use her real name online. Not when Tori had threatened her six ways from Sunday. I wondered if Charlie’s guy knew about Finstas, and if so, how he had missed the possibility of Wren having one.
I relished the idea of getting a leg up on Charlie for once.
“So,” I said, trying for casual. “How would someone go about finding your mom’s fake Insta thing?”
Cooper eyed me, her eyes narrow but a smile on her face.
“You lookin’ to slide into her DMs?”
“I don’t know what that means,” I replied but, really, I had a pretty good idea.
“Sure, you don’t. You may be old, but you’re not an idiot.”
“Hey!” I protested, knocking my foot against hers playfully. “I’m not old!” When she only raised one eyebrow at me, I relented. “I’m notthatold, I mean.”
“Okay, Boomer.”
“No! Absolutely not! I refuse to accept that moniker. I am an elder Millennial at least, likely straddling the Gen X line, but I am in no way a Boomer.” I crossed my arms, giving a definitive nod.
“Maybe not in age,” Cooper said. “But your attitude is a little sus.”
“Why is it I can only understand half of the words that come out of your mouth?”
“Because you’re old!” she said with another laugh. “We just covered this!”
