After the Party by A.K. Ritchie

Author:A.K. Ritchie [Ritchie, A.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781777906108
Publisher: Rivers and Roads Publishing
Published: 2021-11-01T06:00:00+00:00

18

Banging on the apartment door woke me the night after I did inventory at the store. I had no idea who would have gotten into the building without buzzing us first, but I climbed out of bed and stumbled into the hallway. Kay was already at the door in her black robe.

Before she opened it all the way, Camila slipped beneath Kay’s arm and said, “I called you three times.”

“I was doing inventory,” I told her. “I didn’t get home until three this morning.”

“I posted Chase’s postcards early and you need to see our views in the last eight hours.” Camila slipped off her shoes while she apologized to Kay. I glanced at the clock to see it was only eight-thirty in the morning. I groaned.

“I’m going back to bed,” Kay grumbled.

I put my hand up. “Wait. Chase said you should read the postcards. I’ve been meaning to tell you all week.”

I hadn’t heard much from Chase since Melissa’s birthday. I wondered if Melissa’s bathroom speech had been forgotten. I wondered if she was uncomfortable by Chase’s behaviour when it came to Mitchell and me. I didn’t know if she would say anything to him, but I sensed something was wrong. Despite that, I still planned to honour what he asked of me.

Kay looked between Camila and me. “He mentioned me by name in these things?”

Camila shook her head. “No, but…I think you’ll understand.”

Kay stood still for a few seconds too long while Camila shifted uncomfortably.

“Do you wanna read them together?” I asked her.

Camila cleared her throat.

“Yeah. I think so,” Kay said. She took her spot in the recliner and wrapped a blanket around herself.

While Camila asked Kay if she could cast her phone onto the TV, I went into the kitchen to make tea. I had a feeling at least one of us might need something warm for comfort.

The first thing Camila did was bring up our website stats. She grinned as she located our unique page views. The graph showed a steady line of views rising across the page from the day we started the project—until the night before, when the blue line careened upwards.

Camila beamed and said, “Do you see that? Isn’t that wild? All I had to do was tag the post and every single image with Forever July. The clicks started coming in before I even refreshed the page.”

“And that means more money for you guys, right?” Kay asked. “Like, you’ll start getting paid more than just a hundred bucks a week or whatever you’re up to.”

“Yes, if we can keep up this momentum. And I have some ideas to keep it going.” Camila clicked onto our website and said, “Peyton, I need you to reach out to bands and see if we can get any of them on board with this kinda thing. Like playlists to go along with their stories, or some grainy Polaroids, multimedia, something. I’m sure there’s someone out there with their own unique take that will be willing to share.”

I nodded and made a mental note to start sending out emails that afternoon.

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