Dad knows exactly what to do. As soon as we arrive home and tell him what’s happened, he tells Elliot that he’s welcome to stay for as long as he likes and then he goes around to have a word with his parents. It turns out that Elliot’s mum had been really distraught when she read his farewell note—apparently his farewell note was five pages long so it was more of a farewell essay really—so she said she was going to have a serious talk with his dad when he got home.
We spend the evening eating pizza and watching old episodes of Friends and every so often turning to each other and whispering, “Oh my God, the milkshakes!” and dissolving into fits of giggles. It feels so good to have this kind of normality again. But all the time I’m aware of a nagging sadness deep inside me that no amount of pizza or laughter is able to heal.
At about eight o’clock, Elliot’s dad calls around, asking to have a chat with him. While they talk in the kitchen, I wait nervously in the living room. But there are no raised voices and at one point they even laugh. Elliot finally emerges with a nervous smile on his face.
“I’m going to go back home,” he whispers. “He’s said I can keep my laptop and phone.”
“But what about . . . ?” I give Elliot a pointed look.
“Apparently he’s going to go for ‘counseling”’—Elliot mimes some quotation marks—“to help him come to terms with ‘my sexuality.’ ”
“Wow. Oh well, at least he’s trying.”
Elliot laughs. “Yes, very trying!” He hugs me tight. “Love you, Pen.”
“Love you too.”
Once Elliot’s gone, I make a mug of camomile tea and take it up to my bedroom. What a day it’s been. I think back to how I’d been feeling yesterday and I breathe a massive sigh of relief. Tom was right; it felt great being able to face the world again and stand up to Megan and Ollie like that.
I look down at the floor at the unopened Christmas gift from Ollie. I wonder what he got me. I pick the present up and tear off the wrapping paper. Inside there’s a framed photo—of Ollie. It’s one of the ones I took of him down at the beach. I can’t help laughing. What kind of person gives photos of themselves as a gift? I immediately think of Noah and the presents he gave me. Princess Autumn, the photography book, the song. All of them were about me, not him—the way presents should be. Once again I feel that crushing sense of pain and disbelief. He seemed so genuine, so caring.
I throw Ollie’s picture in the bin and go over to my CD player. It doesn’t make any sense, but that doesn’t matter; the fact is it happened and I have to deal with it. I eject the CD from the stereo and put it back in its case, along with the handwritten lyrics. I hold it over the bin. But for some reason, I can’t let go, so I take it over to my wardrobe instead and bury it under my mound of clothes.
As I’m shoving the CD to the very back of the wardrobe, my hand brushes against my laptop. Can I truly say that I’m facing the world if I’m still too scared to go online? I pull the laptop out and stare at it for a moment. Come on, you can do this, I tell myself, thinking of Ocean Strong.
I take my laptop over to my bed and log on to my email account. Because I’d deactivated my Twitter and Facebook, and disabled comments on my blog, I hardly have any new emails at all. But I do have one from Celeb Watch. My stomach starts to churn as I open it.
From: jack@celebwatch.com
To: girlonline22@gmail.com
Subject: HUGE INTERVIEW OPPORTUNITY—EXCLUSIVE
Hey there!
As you’re probably aware, we’ve been featuring your friendship with Noah Flynn on our website recently and we’d really love to share your side of the story with our 5.3 million readers. For an exclusive interview with Celeb Watch about your relationship with Noah Flynn we’d be willing to pay $20,000 and obviously the exposure on our site would massively increase your profile, not to mention the potential for sponsorship deals via your blog.
I stare at the screen, unable to believe what I’m reading. So now they want my side of the story, after telling a load of lies about me? And they seriously think I’d want their money after what they’ve done! I’m about to type a furious reply to them but then I have a better idea. I log out of my emails and into my blog.
4 January
From Fairy Tale to Horror Story
Hello,
As most of you probably know by now, in the past couple of days, this blog and I have become the focus of A LOT of online attention.
A lot of very negative attention.
For the past couple of days, I’ve had total strangers posting lies and abusive messages about me all over the Internet.
And I’ve had celebrity gossip sites writing articles about me without even bothering to check their facts.
These people don’t know me.
None of you know me.
None of you know the truth about what really happened to me.
And yet you all think you have the right to post an opinion or call me names.
I’ve only ever been completely honest on this blog. That was the whole point of it—so that I had somewhere I could totally be myself.
Everything I’ve ever written here has been the truth.
Or the truth as I’ve been led to see it.
I didn’t know Brooklyn Boy’s true identity. I knew he was called Noah and I knew he liked music, but I didn’t know that he had a record deal and I definitely didn’t know he was in a relationship with someone else.
If I’d known that I never would have gotten involved with him.
I was lied to.
I’ve had my heart broken.
And, on top of all that, someone found out about this blog and leaked my identity.
When it all happened, it felt as if my world had ended.
For so long this blog has been my safe place—the one place I felt I could talk about my innermost feelings and not be judged.
But in the past couple of days I’ve seen how shallow the online world can be.
It’s a world where people think it’s OK to hide behind their screens and their usernames and say poisonous things about a person they don’t even know.
And even websites like Celeb Watch think it’s OK to print a story without checking the facts first.
Today, Celeb Watch contacted me for the first time since running their story on me.
They asked me if I’d like to do an exclusive interview with them about my “relationship with Noah Flynn.”
They told me they’d pay me $20,000 for it.
They also said that it would be great for raising the profile of this blog.
Like I want my profile raised by a bunch of liars.
The fact is I would never sell a story on anyone, let alone someone I love.
Even if they really hurt me.
So, to finish my last blog post on this site, I’ve got just one more thing to say.
Every time you post something online you have a choice.
You can either make it something that adds to the happiness levels in the world—or you can make it something that takes away.
I tried to add something by starting Girl Online.
And for a while it really seemed to be working.
So, next time you go to post a comment or an update or share a link, ask yourself: is this going to add to the happiness in the world?
And if the answer’s no, then please delete.
There’s enough sadness in the world already. You don’t need to add to it.
I won’t be posting on here anymore.
But to everyone who added to my happiness while I did, thank you so much—I’ll never forget you . . .