by Jen Wilde
Reese.
I take in a deep breath through my nose and cross my arms over my chest. “Well, I guess we were bound to see each other eventually. May as well get it over with.”
Mandy’s shoulders tense, then she bites her bottom lip.
I let out a sigh. “What is it?”
“The studio wants you to act like you’re back together. Just until the first box office results come in. It’s still opening week, and they think a rekindling of your love will be a great boost to the numbers, what with all the shippers out there still brokenhearted.”
I scoff at her. “So what am I supposed to do? Pretend to still be in love with the guy who crushed me?”
Mandy stares at me with a pleading frown. “I know it’s not fair to ask.”
“No, it’s not.” I’m fuming. “I’m not some prop for the studio execs to roll out when they need a showmance.” I try to speak calmly. The last thing I want to do is look like a diva yelling at her manager in front of all my peers.
Mandy nods sympathetically, but I can tell by the look on her face that she’s already said all this to them.
“What happens if I say no?”
“They’ve threatened to replace you in the sequel.”
I flop onto a nearby couch and cover my face with my hands. I can’t remember a time when I’ve been angrier.
“What do you think I should do?”
Mandy thinks for a moment, then looks me in the eyes. “I think The Rising is your big break into movies. No one expected a little Aussie indie film to have so much success. I think losing this could put your career at risk. And with Reese not doing the sequel, you’re the lead. That’s huge.”
I push out a long, exasperated groan.
“But,” she continues, leaning back against the glass and adjusting her shirt, “I also think that you have the talent and the fan power to keep you in the sequel—no matter what the studio says.”
My shoulders relax. “Thank you.”
She smiles with her lips closed. “I’ll call them and tell them you’re not doing the showmance.”
I stare at Mandy nervously while she talks quietly—and tersely—on the phone.
I text Taylor and Jamie on the group text that we always use.
Charlie: Reese is coming tomorrow.
Taylor: For real? Ew. Don’t worry, dude. Don’t tone down your awesome just because of this.
Charlie: UGH. This sucks. SupaCon is supposed to be MY moment. I was going to prove to everyone that I’m fine without him. Everyone was going to see how awesome I am and realize I don’t need to be hanging off his arm. People were going to stop feeling sorry for me and stop asking me about him. I was gonna rock it!
Taylor: You can still rock it! You won’t just escape his shadow, you’ll blast it to smithereens! BOOM!
Jamie: Yeah! Blow it up! And remember: don’t let him mess with your head.
Taylor: Agreed. If he messes with your head, I’ll mess with his face.
Mandy gets off the phone and walks over to me.
“How’d it go?” I ask, noticing her pursed lips and averted gaze.
“They’re disappointed. But they know they need you, so they’ll get over it.”
“So I’m not fired?”
She shakes her head. “No. You’re not fired. But they did request that you be polite and civil to Reese.”
Of course they did. No one is allowed to upset Reese Ryan—a blockbuster magnet with wavy, surfer-blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a smile that makes girls all over the world weak in the knees.
I roll my eyes. “So he can be as douchey as he likes, but as long as I play the sweet little sidekick and bat my lashes at the cameras every now and then, they’re happy.”
Mandy slumps her shoulders, nodding. “Pretty much.”
I grit my teeth in frustration and ball my hands into fists. “It’s just so frustrating. It’s been six months, and yet people still just see me as his ex.”
“It will all blow over. Especially once the sequel comes out.”
Mandy smiles, and I smile back at her. “Thanks for standing up for me.”
“It’s what I’m here for. Don’t worry about Reese. It’ll only be for one day, really. You’ll probably only have to see him at the panel.”
I nod. That makes me feel a bit better.
At least I have today to enjoy the con and have fun with my fans.
Someone taps on my shoulder, and I turn around to see Alyssa Huntington smiling at me. I gasp audibly and immediately regret it.
A spark of recognition flashes in her eyes. “It is you! Charlie!” She points at me, and I try not to explode at the fact that she knows who I am. We may run in the same online circles, but I’ve always seen myself as on the fringe of YouTube stardom and Alyssa as smack-bang in the middle of it. “I thought it was you. Your hair is different. But it’s awesome!”
“Thanks! Yeah, I dyed it recently.” I feel my cheeks turning the same color as my hot-pink hair. I’m still getting used to it. “I love your hair, too!”
She runs a hand over her buzzed head. “Thanks! I did it for a new movie I’m doing.”
I try to think of something to say to keep the conversation going, but I’m lost. My brain has left the building. I’ve had fan art of this girl on my bedroom wall for three years, ever since she made her debut in the web series Venus Soaring when she was eighteen. Tay even wrote Alyssa Huntington fanfic for me. I’ve seen all her videos dozens of times, from her fun collabs with other YouTube stars to her in-depth interviews with female STEM leaders and political activists.
Now she’s standing right in front of me, smiling like the sweetest person in the world.
And I’m not saying anything.
“I love your channel,” I say. “And that TED talk you did on intersectional feminism blew my mind. My best friend, Tay, and I watched it, like, a thousand times.”
She beams. “Thank you. I got trolled hard for that, so it really means a lot whenever someone tells me they learned from it.”
I shake my head. “Seriously, you’ve done so much for me. You inspired me to speak out for myself. I would never have started my channel if it wasn’t for you. I’ve worshipped you for years.”
I wonder if I’m coming on too strong, but her wide smile puts my worries at ease.
A SupaCon staff member approaches Alyssa. “We’re ready to go in about two minutes.”
“Okay, thanks,” Alyssa says. The staff member walks away, and Alyssa turns back to me. “I gotta go, but we should meet up while we’re here.” She pauses for a beat, tilts her head to the side, and adds, “How’s Reese doing, by the way? I saw the trailer for The Rising; you guys look great in it.”
I hesitate. I don’t know how to answer that.
Is she asking because she genuinely wants to know how Reese is? Or is she asking to find out if Reese and I are still together or not? Does she have a girlfriend? I’m usually up to date with her love-life rumors, but I could have missed something.
All these questions run through my mind, leaving me frozen in place, smiling like a loser while she waits for me to answer.
“Um,” I start. “Reese is fine, I guess. But we broke up six months ago.”
“Oh God, sorry! I heard you got back together.”
I wave it off. “Yeah, that rumor circulates about once a month.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but the staff member calls her name, telling her it’s time to start her panel. “Shit,” she says. “I gotta go. But we’ll meet up, yeah?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Yeah, for sure.”
Her gaze lingers on me for a moment, and then she’s gone. I watch her walk away and disappear through the double doors, then turn around to see Mandy grinning at me, and I burst into a fit of excited giggles.
“Did that just happen?” I ask.
“It happened,” she says, her eyes wide. “It happened so hard.”
CHAPTER 3
TAYLOR
QUE
ENOFFIRESTONE:
Hey guys!
Right now I’m in line waiting to meet the one and only Skyler Atkins!
Ahhhhh! FTFO!
I feel sick and excited and terrified.… Is that normal when you’re about to meet your queen? I hope so, because I feel like I’m about to puke all over this guy standing in front of me.
But even puke-covered humiliation wouldn’t bring me down from this high. I’ve waited for this day my whole life. Ever since I saw the first Firestone book in my school library and stayed up all night reading it. Skyler’s books have been my world for over a decade. Queen Firestone made me feel like I wasn’t alone. When the sixth and final book was released, I read it cover to cover in one sitting. And then I cried for days because it was over. (Shout-out to all the Firestoners who helped me through that week!) I guess you can tell how much this means to me, but in case it’s not clear, here are my top three ways Skyler Atkins has changed my life:
1. She created a world I feel safe in. Let’s be real; I don’t feel safe in the real world. It’s big and scary and confuses the shit out of me sometimes. But in Everland, Queen Firestone reigns and protects her queendom. She’s a hero. She fights for those who don’t feel strong enough to fight for themselves. I needed that growing up. Shit, sometimes I still need that now.
2. Queen Firestone is the best role model a kid can have. In the beginning of the series, she’s scared. Fear rules her. Monsters killed her parents and hunted her, so she hid herself away from the world to protect herself and her sister, Crystal. But slowly, after she realizes it’s more dangerous for her to hide than to fight, she grows into a warrior, a queen, and a hero—but she’s still afraid. She learns to trust her powers and her skills again, and she saves her people. But through all that, she’s still afraid. That’s what I like most about her; she isn’t fearless. She’s scared, but she keeps fighting. She has moments of doubt, when she runs away, but she comes back. She doesn’t give up. Sometimes she fails, she falls down, she makes mistakes. She’s real.
3. Reading the Firestone series introduced me to the power of words. I have trouble expressing myself through talking. My thoughts get jumbled, and I get flustered and freeze. I never ever end up saying what I want to say, and so for a long time, I just stayed quiet. But reading Skyler’s stories inspired me to write, and I discovered I can say everything I want to say and more simply by finding a pen or a keyboard and going wild. I want people to look back on my stories a decade after they read it, and think, “Wow, I’m glad I had that story. It helped shape who I am.” That’s what Skyler did for me.
Crap! The line is moving forward! Gotta go!
I hit POST, close my Tumblr app, and slip my phone back in my jeans pocket. Someone taps me on the shoulder, and I glance behind me to see a short, thin girl smiling nervously at me.
“Hi,” she says, pushing her black hair behind her ear. “Sorry. I really need to pee. Could you hold my place in line?”
I laugh and say, “Of course.”
“Thank you so much,” she says before stepping out of the line and speed-walking out of the hall.
I jump up and down excitedly next to Jamie. “I can’t believe I’m finally going to meet Skyler Atkins!” It’s all I can do to stop myself from squealing and flailing my hands around, but I don’t want to seem weird.
“What are you going to say to her?” Jamie asks, stretching his long neck to get a better look at the stage. He’s so tall he doesn’t even have to stand on his tiptoes to see over everyone’s heads.
“I’ve got it all planned out,” I say. “I’m going to step forward, gently place my box set of books on the signing table, and give her my biggest smile. Then I’ll shake her hand and introduce myself. I’ll tell her that Queen Firestone is my hero and that reading the Firestone books got me through primary school, and the movies got me through high school, and th—”
“Hey,” he says, looking down at me. “I thought I got you through high school.” He winks.
I roll my eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell her that the movies and you and Charlie got me through high school.”
The line moves, and I practically leap forward. And then it stops again. “Can you see her?”
“Nah. She’s sitting down.”
Jamie and I have been waiting in line for five hours. He lifts the flap of his shoulder bag and pulls out two Snickers bars. He holds one out to me. “You want one?”
I shake my head. “Too excited about meeting Skyler to eat.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Did you eat on the plane?”
“A little of dinner. But I was too excited about coming to America.”
“So you haven’t had a proper meal since then? That’s, like, fourteen hours without food!” He shoves the Snickers in my face. “Eat. You’re gonna pass out.”
I scrunch up my face and wave it away. “I’ll eat after. We’ll grab a late lunch.”
He looks at me like I just said I don’t know who David Tennant is. “You’re crazy.”
“I’m fine. I’m running on pure adrenaline right now. You can feed me when I crash later.”
He presses his lips together tightly and nods, satisfied, then throws the second Snickers back into his bag.
The line moves forward again. I grin in anticipation and lean slightly out of the line and start counting.
“There are only fifty-three people ahead of us now!”
“You think Charlie will be able to wrangle up some of those VIP passes for us?” Jamie asks with a mouth full of chocolate and peanuts.
“Nah, you heard Mandy. I don’t think we’re important enough.”
He swallows. “Speak for yourself. I’m very important. I have many leather-bound books, and my apartment smells of rich mahogany.”
“Anchorman,” I say with a half smile. “That’s 5–4.”
He furrows his brow. “Nuh-uh. We’re even now. 4–4.”
I adjust the heavy box set in my arms. Carrying six books in a limited-edition metal box for five hours seemed like a good idea when we arrived. But it will be worth it once Skyler signs it. “Nope. You didn’t get my Goodfellas reference on the plane.”
He leans in and looks at me with hooded eyes. “That’s because your Joe Pesci impression sucks.”
I glare at him. “How dare you.”
He shoves the last piece of chocolate in his mouth and grins. A crumb falls onto his shirt—his favorite shirt, a dark gray tee with a Zelda graphic on the front—and he gasps.
“No!” He swats the crumb off and stretches his shirt out an inch from his chest to inspect the damage. It’s all clear. He looks up at me. “That was close.”
The line moves forward. I can’t help it; I squeal like a kid in a candy store. “Eeeee! We’re getting closer!”
Jamie squeezes his mouth shut, trying to hold in his laughter. “I’ve never seen you this excited before.”
“Sure you have! What about the midnight release of Firestone Four in ninth grade?”
He smirks. “I stand corrected.” He pauses, glancing down at me before looking straight ahead. “That was our first and last date.”
I scoff. “It was not.” I try to say it casually, but my reddening cheeks betray me. “Not our first date, I mean.” That still came out wrong, so I try again. “I mean that was not a date. At all.”
“Well, I thought it was a date.”
“It was a group of friends going to a bookstore party to fangirl over the new Firestone book. I made that very clear before the boxes were even cut open.”
He rubs his nose at the memory. “I remember. My nose still clicks every time I sneeze.”
“That was your fault.”
He nods. “I know, I know. That was the last time I ever put my arm around a girl without asking her first.”
“It just took me by surprise, that’s all. I didn’t know you had a thing for me.”
He chuckles awkwardly as we shuffle forward with the crowd. “And I didn’t know you had such a strong right hook.”
I still wish someone would have told me everyone thought it was a date. I missed all the clues until it was too late. Even then, I didn’t have the confidence to do anything about it. A few months later, Jamie started dating a girl from his photography class. It didn’t last, but seeing them together made it clear that whatever feelings he had for me were long gone.
If I were to be honest right now, I’d say, “If I had known you had a thing for me, I would have let you put your arm around me.”
But I won’t say that.
There are a lot of things I won’t say.
And soon, we’ll both be at university, and even if everything goes according to plan and we’re accepted into schools in LA, we’ll get caught up in study and new friends and life, and all the things that I’ve left unsaid will haunt me.
That’s why I need to meet Skyler.
If I can be brave enough to meet my idol, to talk to her, then I can do anything. I’ll have what it takes to go out into the world, to university, on my own.
On my own.
Jamie’s voice sounds far away when he says, “You know, I heard that Skyler isn’t going to sign on to write the screenplays for the last two Firestone movies.”
My head snaps up, and I look Jamie in the eye. My shocked expression breaks his serious one, and he grins cheekily.
“That is not even close to being funny,” I say.
“Just trying to snap you out of whatever you were thinking about.”
“What do you mean?”
“You looked so worried,” he says. “Like you always do when you’re having one of your Flash Forwards.”
“Oh. Yeah.” I push my glasses farther up the bridge of my nose with my index finger.
“Remember: no worrying allowed here.”
I nod.
He started calling them Flash Forwards a few months after we met. No one else had ever noticed when I disappeared into overanalytic, panic-inducing daydreams before, but he did.
I hitch my box set under one arm and pull my phone out of my jeans pocket. My screen lights up with notifications from my thousands of Tumblr and Twitter followers. I open up Twitter and start scrolling through my replies.
