What Happens Now

by Jennifer Castle

  Inside, she had all the elements of my costume laid out on the couch.

  “It’s done,” she said. “All that’s missing is you.”

  I took the costume into the downstairs bathroom and began putting it on. First the brown leggings we’d bought online, which nearly sparkled in the bright lights above the bathroom mirror and instantly itched. Next, the white shirt Eliza had gone to four different area thrift stores to find; it had a slight ruffle underneath the V-neckline. Then, the purple tunic and brown belt, both of which Eliza had designed and made herself. I’d helped by sewing on the belt buckle and three brown triangular buttons—miraculously, we had them in stock at Millie’s—down the front of the tunic. Eliza had ordered handmade replica flight pins from some woman in North Dakota, and had already stuck mine on the collar.

  Finally, I slipped my feet into my boots.

  Silly stupid silly. You’re going to look like an idiot.

  I turned away from that voice. It was too late to listen. I put on the wig cap and called to Eliza.

  “I need some help with her hair!” We were always referring to Satina as “her,” the silent third wheel in our new friendship.

  Eliza came into the bathroom and smiled when she saw me, but didn’t say anything. She picked up the wig, a long cascade of hair the color of cherrywood, and shook it out, held it delicately. I turned toward her and she slipped it on, taking a few moments to adjust it. She bit her lip and then said, “Check it out.”

  I turned back to the mirror.

  I was not me. I was not really Satina, either. I was someone beyond both those people, too shocked to try and figure out who.

  “I like,” said Eliza. “Do you?”

  “It looks . . . fantastic.”

  “Not it. You. You look fantastic.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Is there anything that feels uncomfortable? Physically uncomfortable. Anything we need to fix before the fair?”

  I took stock for a moment, then shook my head. No. The costume fit. The pieces worked. The rest was up to me.

  “Okay, then let’s move on to the shirt.”

  Satina changed clothes halfway through the “Ferris Wheel” episode, stealing a plaid shirt from a hook in the stables so she’d be less conspicuous among the 1950s fairgoers. Eliza wanted to do one set of shots where I was wearing that, so she’d found some fabric that was almost the exact same pattern and sewn a shirt from scratch.

  I tried it on. She’d gotten this one exactly right, too. We carefully put the clothes back on their hangers and into garment bags, ready and waiting for fair night.

  “You’re done,” she said. “Now, onto Bram.” She busied herself with another garment bag and I took that as my cue to leave, muttering a Byeseeyoulater as I went.

  When I stepped outside, the rain had let up but was still falling in an even rhythm. The air felt newly created, light and unencumbered, as if the storm had washed all seriousness right out of it.

  Max had just arrived and was walking toward me with an open umbrella.

  “Successful fitting?” he asked.

  “She’s happy,” I replied.

  “Well, thank God for that. It’s the only reason I’m doing the cosplay. Here, let me be chivalrous.” He held the umbrella over me and escorted me to my car. When we got there, Max paused, staring at me.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’m not going to give you the standard ‘Don’t break Camden’s heart’ speech.”

  “You would never need to.”

  “But I want to ask, how does it feel? Is he what you imagined?”

  I felt heat rush through me. “What do you mean?”

  “I remember you. From last summer. I remember how you looked at him.”

  “Oh,” I said, trying to hide the full-body cringe. “Was it that obvious?”

  “Only to me. I think I noticed it because I’ve been there. Not with Eliza. Another girl from school, two years ago.”

  “You never said anything to him about me?”

  Max paused, shrugged. “I knew Eliza wanted him. I didn’t want to make extra drama.”

  “Don’t say anything now.”

  “I would never. But would you?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Does it matter? I’ve changed a lot since then. I want him to only know about the me right now.”

  Max smiled as he opened my driver’s side door for me, then put one hand gently on my shoulder.

  “People think they change, but they don’t so much. They just unlock doors inside them that were always there.”

  I laughed, then realized he wasn’t joking. “That’s deep.”

  “Yeah, well. That’s me.” He scanned me up and down. “But it’s a theory I came up with when I was living in California. It helped me understand some stuff. The you right now? That’s the only you who’s ever been.”

  I fought the sting in my eyes, even though Max seemed like the kind of guy you could cry in front of. He might even be disappointed if you didn’t.

  He closed the door for me after I got in and held up his hand in a wave.

  I’d spent the last few weeks so focused on Camden and then on Eliza, but right there I realized Max had his own quiet awesomeness.

  I really was falling for them all.

  12

  On our planned fair night, I watched through the front window as Kendall’s car pulled into the driveway. My heart wobbling, nervous as all hell.

  “She’s here,” I said to Richard, and picked up my backpack. The parent-approved plan was that I’d go to the fair with Kendall and some of her friends, then sleep over at her house. That was all a version of the truth.

  Danielle rushed down the hall and threw her arms around me as I opened the door. “You’ll bring me back something from the fair, right?”

  “You’re going tomorrow with the day camp,” I reminded her. “But nice try.”

  “You’ll call when you’re at Kendall’s?” Richard asked as he stepped up behind Dani.

  “Yes, yes. Don’t I always do what I say I’m going to do? Sheesh. See you guys tomorrow.”

  I blew Dani a kiss and slipped out, closed the door tight. Rushed toward Kendall’s passenger side.

  “Clean getaway?” she asked.

  “Squeaky.”

  I was surprised to see Max and James in the backseat as Kendall pulled away from my house. Away, away. Toward everything else.

  “Hey,” I said to the guys.

  “Eliza and Camden had some last-minute costume snafus,” explained Max, “so they’re taking my car and meeting us there. But your stuff and my stuff is in the trunk.”

  “When you say it like that, it sounds so shady.”

  “Fun, right?”

  James cradled his camera bag on his lap like it was a cat. He was even petting it a little.

  “Did your camera meet Kendall’s camera?” I asked him.

  He laughed. “Yup. They’re warming up to each other.”

  Kendall met Jamie’s eyes in the rearview mirror. God, I was so grateful she was here.

  After we parked at the fairgrounds and Kendall popped the trunk, Max went to the back of the car and took out the garment bags, then handed me mine. A steady stream of people were filing past the car, and this didn’t feel as safe and reassuring as Camden’s bathroom. I froze, trying to figure out how I was going to do it. If I was going to do it.

  “Come over here,” said Kendall, pulling me by the hem of my shirt to the Christ the King Church van parked head-to-head with us. There was an RV parked next to it, and that created a tall alley in between. The closest thing to privacy I was going to find.

  Kendall helped me put on Satina’s uniform, then the wig. We checked it in the gigantic side view mirror of the RV.

  “I thought you thought this was silly,” I said to her in the reflection, where she was still Kendall and I was definitely not still Ari.

  Kendall paused, and one side of her mouth really wanted to smile. “I’m on the f
ence,” she said.

  Someone knocked on the side of the RV. Max, in all his Bram glory except for the silver wig, which he held in his hand. He looked perfect.

  “Let’s do this,” said Max.

  Those first rickety steps away from the cars felt like I was trying out stiff new skin. As we joined the flow of people walking toward the fairground gates, we passed a group of kids from my French class who didn’t even recognize me. Maybe this would be all right.

  The county fair always seemed so magical to me. The fact that a small, snow-covered field in winter could transform into a planet unto itself for seven glorious days in the middle of summer. Every inch of grass packed with booths and rides. The livestock buildings that sit empty most of the year densely alive with animals and noises and smells. The lights and colors, which somehow look artificial and natural at the same time. When I was younger, I would imagine that the fair was always happening in some alternate dimension, but we could only see it for that one special week.

  Once inside the gates, we huddled in front of a cotton candy booth so Max could check his phone.

  “They’re here,” he said. “We’re supposed to meet them at the Ferris wheel.”

  The Ferris wheel was in its customary corner of the fairgrounds, set against an iconic mix of sky and clouds as if it had brought its own backdrop. We walked over to it, but saw no Camden or Eliza. Max checked his phone again.

  “She says they’re on the other side where the exit is. She says you should go look, Ari.”

  “Me?”

  Max shrugged. I exchanged a confused glance with Kendall and walked around the base of the Ferris wheel, past people who had just gotten off. A small patch of grass and then a chain-link fence separated the fair from the sad yet alluring shantytown of carny workers’ RVs.

  But then, there was also this:

  Azor Ray, coming toward me.

  Azor Ray, in his familiar collarless maroon tunic with the buttons down one side, the black pants and the shiny black boots. His eyes full of purpose.

  I caught my breath because Azor often made me catch my breath. Something about him had a direct line to the center of me.

  Then I caught my breath again. Because this was not Eliza. Too tall to be Eliza. Too Azor to be Eliza.

  It was Camden.

  In Azor’s clothes. In Azor’s hair, which was barely a shade darker than Camden’s but shorter and neat and parted hard on one side. A wig. It was so obvious, suddenly, how much they naturally resembled each other.

  Camden, Azor. Azor, Camden. Camdenazorcamden.

  He stepped toward me and smiled.

  “What?” I said, feeling like I’d suddenly changed from a solid to a liquid. Where had my bones gone? What was holding me up?

  “Hey, Satina,” said Camden. “Wait, sorry. That was stupid.” He cleared his throat and made a serious Azor face. “Hello, Specialist Galt. I am getting a highly excited pathos wave from you.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, taking one step toward him. “When did this happen?”

  “A few days ago,” replied Camden, as Camden again. “I thought it would be a great surprise for you and see, I’m totally right.” His eyes traveled all over my costume and he appeared stricken. “You look amazing, by the way.”

  I took another step. My left hand brushed his right one, and our fingers intertwined.

  “You did this for me?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I knew we’d barely kissed a couple of times. I knew we were in a public place, surrounded by people, and our friends were waiting for us. I knew I was not a bold girl, a brash girl, a girl who took what she wanted when she wanted it. All these things I knew tumbled away.

  “Come here,” I said, yanking him toward me.

  For the record, our mouths met halfway. It wasn’t like I attacked him. We attacked each other.

  We kissed hard. Our two unfinished kisses plus a hundred more, to make up for lost time. We kissed desperately, voraciously, the way you think you only can in your mind until you do it for real. This was so completely for real. I wrapped my arms under his armpits and up his back, the fabric of his uniform as soft as I always imagined it might be. Camden put both hands on my face, anchoring me to the spot I belonged in.

  Azor. Mine. Azor. Mine, mine, mine. Lips, wet, taste. Skin, heat, pressure. Give, take, fall, climb.

  Had I always been this greedy?

  After a time, Camden drew away. Somewhere in the kissing, he’d threaded his fingers through the hair of my wig. I’d clutched parts of his uniform that I quickly smoothed down, hoping I hadn’t ruined them.

  “Okay,” he simply said, trying to recover his breath. He glanced over my shoulder, then leaned in to whisper. “They’re coming.”

  We broke apart to see the others gathering around us in a circle. Eliza was wearing Camden’s Marr costume, but it had been altered to fit her. Her natural bravado and swagger went a long way toward filling an Arrow One command uniform.

  “Oh please, you two,” said Eliza, surveying us, our hands still intertwined. “Don’t get all county-fair cute on me. Remember, we’re subverting.”

  “You can be cute and subvert at the same time,” said Camden casually, like we had not just done this gorgeous damage to each other, our lips moist and swollen. “You can’t tell me you don’t want to kiss Max on top of the Ferris wheel or have a bumper-car war.”

  “I don’t want to kiss Max on top of the Ferris wheel,” she said firmly. “Although other things would be acceptable.”

  “You guys,” said James. “Don’t be gross tonight.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” said Max to Eliza. “Be gross. Please, please, please be gross.”

  Eliza and Max held each other’s glance. Then Eliza looked at me and Camden with pride, and I realized how she’d set it all up. Them coming separately, Camden waiting behind the Ferris wheel so we’d be alone in the moments we first saw each other.

  Kendall and James stood side by side with a comfortable gap between them, both clutching their cameras around their necks.

  “Okay, here’s my plan,” said Eliza. “We head straight over to the fun house, because those shots may take us the longest and I want to get them out of the way while there’s still natural light.”

  James nodded. “Golden time, as they say.”

  “So where’s the fun house?” asked Camden.

  “It’s in the same place every year,” I said. “Follow me.”

  As we walked, I let go of Camden’s hand to fall into step next to Kendall, then lean in to whisper in her ear.

  “When we’re done with the shoot, you and Jamie should go do your own thing. Something’s bound to happen at the fair, right?”

  Kendall shrugged. “You’d think so.”

  Fortunately, there was no line for the fun house, which was decorated, as always, with gigantic, distorted portraits of music icons. The leather-skinned carny guy at the entrance looked at us for only two seconds longer than he looked at everyone else.

  “They must see it all,” said Camden as we walked over the rickety bridge.

  “I wonder what it would take to really ruffle them,” I said.

  Camden shuddered. “I actually don’t want to wonder that.”

  We climbed to the second level where the maze of mirrors started. “Okay!” said Eliza. “This is it. Right here. Things are starting to feel awesome.”

  She directed me to stand by one mirror, opened her purse, and handed me Satina’s trademark measuring-everything device. It was light as Styrofoam, and I remembered that night they were dumpster diving. I laughed, then held it skyward like Satina often did.

  “You feel stupid, right?” asked Eliza. I nodded. “It’s okay. Embrace that. But in your mind, try to turn the stupid into fun. And free.”

  I said the word Satina in my head. Do it, Ari. Shake off your skin and feel hers.

  With silence and great seriousness, Camden crouched in front of me, his bare palm spread out on the floor like
Azor did when he was telepathically reading a time and place.

  “Look at that messed-up picture of Britney Spears,” said Eliza, directing us to look at the wall mural. “Keep your eyes on that.” She backed up to where James stood with his camera. “Yes! That is so perfect. Hold it there!”

  James and Kendall stood on opposite sides of us, moving around a bit to get different angles. We got really into character now. Camden drew his gun and aimed it off camera, and I held out my device to test the atmosphere. After a few minutes, we had to pause to let a group of kids go through. They scanned us up and down, then giggled and kept going.

  “Maybe they think we’re part of the fun house,” I said to Camden.

  “I’m sad nobody’s recognizing us,” he said.

  “I’m glad they’re not. I’m glad this just belongs to us.”

  He leaned down and quickly kissed me, then grinned.

  “Hey, ’Lize,” called Camden. “What about all that sexual tension between Azor and Satina?”

  “They never hooked up,” said Eliza.

  “But everyone imagined it,” I said.

  We watched her smile. “They sure as hell did. Okay, let’s do a little fanfic version.”

  Camden leaned in close to me, and in this space that was tiny but also infinite because of the reflections, I could truly imagine he was Azor and I was Satina. I had always, always wanted him and now he was renouncing his vow of celibacy. For me. Decades of fans had fantasized about being the one he did it for, but here, now, it was me.

  Did we kiss for a minute? Five? An hour? I wanted to catapult out of myself again, the way I had for those few forever-moments behind the Ferris wheel, but we were on display now. We were putting on a show.

  After we made our way through the rest of the fun house and stepped back onto the midway, Eliza said, “Let’s take our time getting over to the dairy pavilion. Just walk. Be them.”

  So we did. I tried to look at the world of the fair through Satina’s eyes. This travel-weary woman who had seen so much, but nothing like this. She was trying to get her bearings as to where and when she was, and what was important to the people here. It must have been hard for her every time, despite her strength and independence. And of course, she was secretly, desperately in love with Azor, the man who could not give her what she needed most because he did not understand what it was.