by Jen Wilde
I nod excitedly. “That sounds awesome.”
“Good,” he says, smiling. “It’s a date.”
The credits start to roll, but I’m not looking at the TV.
I’m looking at Jamie.
And he’s looking at me, right into my eyes.
We’re only inches away from each other. If he just dipped his head a little, we’d be kissing. If he just dipped his head a little. I swallow hard, feeling unprepared for whatever is happening. But I don’t want it to stop.
A loud knock at the door makes me jump, breaking our gaze. Jamie rolls off the bed and walks to the door, mumbling something about timing. I sit up on the bed and cross my legs, trying to decide if that was an almost-kiss or just a plain old staring contest.
“I got it. Thanks, man,” Jamie says at the door. He carries the tray of food over and rests it on the end of the bed. The room fills with the smell of fries, making my stomach groan in anticipation.
Jamie throws a cloth napkin over his arm and lifts up the domed lid, revealing my sandwich. “Dinner is served, madam.”
I tuck my knees under myself and bow. “Why thank you, kind sir.”
I open my can of Coke as he slides onto the bed next to me, shoving a fry into his mouth. His phone starts to buzz, and he runs over to the couch to find it.
“It’s Mom,” he says before answering it.
I take the chance to update my Tumblr.
QUEENOFFIRESTONE:
So, today has been weird. Good weird.
I know you’re all living vicariously through me right now, wanting updates and pictures and news. And I promise I’ll be doing all that, but right now I need to rest. I gotta recover from today so I’m ready to do it all again tomorrow. Anyone who knows me will tell you I have a tendency to overdo it sometimes, especially when I’m excited about something. I go all in. And if I’m not careful, I’ll wipe myself out before the end of day one. I guess you could say I need to ration my energy. Anyway, hope you guys understand.
Let’s round up the awesome from day one:
—I’m living my dream of going to SupaCon! I will never ever get over the fact that I am HERE.
—I was on TV in my Queen Firestone cosplay—which everyone is LOVING, btw! All those hours spent working on it and pouring my blood, sweat, and literal tears into it were so worth it.
—I *almost* met Skyler. I glimpsed her hair, you guys. I was in the same room as her. I’m still shattered that I didn’t meet her, but I’m trying to see the positives here. I didn’t meet her, but I got closer than ever before. That’s something, right?
—I recognized the signs of panic and gave myself what I needed to calm down. This is amazing progress. A year ago I would never have been able to do that. I’m definitely counting that as a win. I also remembered to take my meds, something I was worried I’d forget about with all the chaos of this trip. So yay!
A bunch of other things happened, but I can feel my mind getting tired now so I’m switching off.
Stay awesome!
#SupaConRULES #GoodWeird #FirestonerCosplay
I hit POST and turn my attention back to my sandwich, catching some of Jamie’s conversation.
“Already?” he says, pacing by the bed. “Okay. Yeah, open it.”
There’s a long pause, then excited screaming through the phone. Jamie smiles and rubs a hand down his face.
“Seriously?” He lets out a hearty laugh.
I take a bite out of my sandwich and watch him curiously. He looks at me, grinning from ear to ear. “Okay. Yeah. Mom, I gotta go. Okay. Bye.”
He ends the call and drops his phone onto the bed, still grinning at me.
“What?” I ask, my mouth full of bread and vegetables.
“A letter from UCLA arrived. I got an early offer for next year.”
I swallow. “For real?” I stare at him with my mouth ajar.
He nods, excitement all over his face.
“That’s awesome!” I drop my sandwich on the plate and jump off the bed. I run over and wrap my arms around him, and he squeezes me tight.
“I can’t believe it!” he says.
I rest my head on his chest. “I didn’t even know you could get an acceptance letter this early.” I should know that, seeing as I also applied there as part of our plan for all three of us to move to LA.
“Oh, yeah.” He steps away and rubs the back of his neck. “I really didn’t think I’d get in. I’ve told you that Mom and Dad went there, right? They’ve always talked about how I would go there one day. They’re freaking out.”
The reality of what this means starts to sink in. It’s happening. It’s almost time to leave high school, leave Melbourne, and start anew. “UCLA. So you’re the first of us to know for sure that you’re moving back here to the US!”
“I guess so.” He smiles.
I sit back on the bed and rub my hands back and forth along my thighs.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “You’ll get in, too. And Charlie will be doing her thing. It’s going to be awesome.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah, for sure.” We’re silent for a minute or two. I want to be happy for him, and for the most part I am, but I can’t deny that it makes me nervous.
I knew this moment would come. All anyone has been talking about this year is graduation and university and the future. But I thought this particular moment wouldn’t come for at least another six months. It’s not supposed to happen yet. We’re still supposed to have time.
The door clicks and Charlie flies into the room, snapping us out of our thoughts.
“Oooh,” she coos. “Do I smell fries?”
“Hey!” I stand up and give her a wave. She points down at my plate and rubs her stomach, and I laugh. “Go ahead.”
“Thanks!” she says as she falls onto the bed. “I’m starving.”
She takes a bite of a french fry. “Jamie, are you okay? I’m so sorry about Reese.”
I jump up. “The ice!” I run to the minifridge and pull out some ice, wrap it in a hand towel, and hurry to Jamie. I hold it up to his face, gently pressing it against his cheek.
He watches me while answering Charlie. “I’m fine. But I really, really hate that guy.”
Electricity rushes over me as he looks into my eyes, making me feel too exposed. I give him the ice and turn to Charlie. “Reese is the biggest tool. But you don’t need to apologize, Charlie.”
She takes another bite. “What happened, anyway? One minute you guys were all talking, then the next Reese was on the ground.”
I wave a hand dismissively, wanting desperately to forget it ever happened. “It doesn’t matter. He was just talking shit.”
“As usual,” Jamie adds.
Charlie cringes. “You won’t believe this.” She gulps. “But he told me he wants me back.”
“Huh?” Jamie says, like he thinks he misheard her.
“No fucking way,” I say, sure I heard her right but still unable to process it.
Charlie nods. “Yep. He wants to get back together.”
“And you said…?” I drag the said out, narrowing my eyes at her.
“No! Of course I said no.”
I exhale in relief. “Thank God.”
Jamie runs the tips of his fingers over the stubble along his jawline, looking confused as hell. “How did he think you would even consider getting back with him?”
Charlie shakes her head. “I think he was drunk. Anyway, once this weekend is over, I don’t want anything to do with him. I just want to get to LA with you guys, film the sequel, and leave him behind for good.”
“Speaking of moving to LA,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows at Jamie.
Charlie tilts her head to the side. “What?”
I nudge Jamie with my shoulder. “Tell her!”
He tells her about UCLA, and she screams. Holding my smile, I get up and walk into the bathroom while they celebrate together. I lock the door and lean over the sink, staring at my reflection.
“It’s okay,” I
whisper to myself. “You’ll be fine. This is good for them. You’ll get in, too.” I suck in a deep breath. “You won’t be left behind.”
I run my hands through my hair absentmindedly, stroking the shaved part to feel the tiny spikes. I force a smile at my reflection, trying to cheer myself up, and then just end up analyzing myself. I try not to, but it’s hard when I’m already feeling low.
* * *
I think I’m what people refer to as curvy, even though I don’t really have a waist. But I do have a stomach. And boobs. And hips. And thighs. And a slight double chin that I’m self-conscious about and try to hide in photos by tilting my head a certain way. I was always the so-called “chubby” kid. But most of the time, I was oblivious to the way I looked as a child, too busy building LEGO castles and playing video games. But then I started secondary school, and all the girls around me started talking about diets and pinching their stomachs to compare fat rolls with each other. Everyone around me was growing into shapely teens while I sort of just rounded out more. I started seeing body-shaming at school and on TV, and I could have gone down the path of deep self-loathing, but then I met Charlie.
Charlie is a lot of things, but insecure isn’t one of them. At first I was intimidated by her outspoken personality and Beyoncé-level confidence, but she took me under her wing, and I quickly learned that she’s sweet, kind, and fiercely protective of those she cares about.
On the first day of year seven, the teacher sat me next to her. She smiled and introduced herself, and I didn’t utter a word. Class was about to start, but someone knocked on the door. A woman tapped on the glass and smiled in my direction, and I heard Charlie gasp. It was her mother, smiling and waving and beaming with pride. She opened the door a crack and whispered something to Charlie in Mandarin, and Charlie leapt up, whispered something back, and closed the door. The teacher asked her if everything was okay, and Charlie explained that her mother just wanted to see her in her first secondary school classroom. I remember being horribly embarrassed for her at the time, but now it just seems sweet.
When she sat back next to me, I built up my courage, leaned in, and whispered, “Are you okay?”
She smiled and said, “I’m fine.”
Another girl at our table stared at her with wide, horrified eyes. “Aren’t you embarrassed?”
Charlie gave her a quizzical look. “No. Why? My mum’s proud of me. I’d never be embarrassed about that.” She laughed, and I laughed with her.
We became inseparable. We had sleepovers, and we’d spy on her two older sisters at her house and watch movies all night at my house. She gave me a crash course in the wonders of online fandoms and video games and always knew which YouTubers to watch.
I’ve always likened her to a wildfire: unstoppable, constantly moving wherever the wind takes her, and lighting a spark everywhere she goes. And then there’s me, the girl who’s plagued by worry and anxiety, the proverbial wet blanket. We tend to balance each other out quite nicely.
Don’t get me wrong; that’s not all we are. Like everyone, who we are isn’t set in stone. Sometimes I’m the wildfire, when I want to be.
Once, when Charlie and Reese were beginning to crumble, I stood up for her. Charlie and I were in her room watching one of Alyssa’s videos. Alyssa was interviewing a popular feminist blogger about something called intersectionality. Reese walked in as the blogger started talking about bisexuality, and he groaned. Charlie closed her laptop and asked him what was wrong.
“I’m not a homophobe or anything,” he said, holding his palms up. “I’m all for gay marriage and all that, but bisexuality? I just don’t believe it’s real.”
I held my breath, having known about Charlie’s sexuality for years by then.
Charlie stood up and crossed her arms. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged and spread out on her bed like I wasn’t even there. “I just don’t believe in bisexuals.”
“What do you mean you don’t believe in bisexuals? They’re not mythical creatures,” I said. “They’re real people, just like you.”
He squirmed uncomfortably, and Charlie sighed. “Reese, I’m bisexual. Do you believe in me?”
He sat up and stared at her like he was suddenly seeing a whole different person. “You? But you’re with me.”
“So? I’m still bi.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, and they were silent for a while, like they were both waiting for the other one to apologize. I wondered if I should leave but was too scared to move.
When Reese finally said something, I wished he hadn’t. “But how could you possibly know you’re bi? Have you ever been with a girl?”
I remember seeing the frustration written all over Charlie’s face, and I spoke up. “How did you know you were straight before you were with a girl, Reese?”
His eyes widened, and he jumped up from the bed. “Look, like I said, I’m all for equality and gay rights and stuff. That’s all I’m gonna say.” And he left the room.
Charlie fell onto the bed in a huff. “He’s all for equality, but he doesn’t even believe bisexuality exists.” She rubbed her fingers over the space between her eyebrows like she had a headache. “You can’t pick and choose whose equality you support. That’s not equality.” She said it quietly, as if only to herself.
“Are you okay?” I asked, worried at the way Reese seemed to get into her head and make her doubt herself. She nodded, opened her laptop, and pressed PLAY on the video. She never mentioned it again. Six months later, she and Reese broke up.
* * *
I hear the door to our hotel room open and close, so I compose myself and go back out there. When I do, Charlie is gone and Jamie is sitting up against the headboard with his plate in his lap, taking a bite of his burger.
“Where’s Charlie?”
“She got called to Mandy’s room to prepare for the panel tomorrow. We need to get that girl into Project Leda so she can clone herself; that way she’ll be able to do all this press stuff and still have time for us.”
I laugh and sit on the bed to finish my sandwich. “It’s all pretty cool, huh? The three of us moving to LA?”
“Yeah, it’s awesome.” He’s watching me. I can feel it. “But it’s also kind of sad.”
My head snaps around to look at him, and his eyes drop to his plate.
“I mean,” he says, “leaving home, being away from family. And it’s scary starting college, especially in a new place.”
I sigh in relief. “You think so, too?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Of course I do. I was really scared moving to Melbourne and starting a new school, and now it’s happening again. The last four years have been fun, so it sucks a little to think that’s all gonna change soon.”
I pick apart my sandwich, tearing off a piece of bread and rolling it into a ball before popping it into my mouth. We sit quietly, eat our fries, and watch TV. I stare at the screen and think about us. Jamie came into the picture in year nine, two years after Charlie and I became best friends, and soon we were a trio of BFFs.
I started having a crush on him the first time I saw him, on his first day at our school after moving from Seattle. He was reading the first Queen Firestone book while sitting on some steps one morning before school. He wore a burgundy beanie and a Star Wars T-shirt, and I was hooked. It wasn’t until a month or two later that he actually spoke to me. I heard his American accent and fell hard. Visions of us getting married and moving to the USA, right between the Hollywood sign and the Empire State Building (at fourteen, geography wasn’t really my strong point), and we’d live happily ever after.
It didn’t really work out that way.
Aside from that weird nondate, nothing else even slightly romantic happened between us. Instead, we discovered a shared love of sci-fi movies, the Firestone books, and Nintendo, and became insta-friends, and it’s been that way ever since. In movies, college changes everything. Couples break up, people change, friends stop hanging out.
Friends. Stop.
Hanging. Out.
That’s what really scares me.
I remember what I said before: “It doesn’t get any better than this.” With everything about to change, maybe it won’t ever get any better than this. I’m beginning to realize just how important these two weirdos are to me. Every now and then, I glance at Jamie. All these years, I thought one day we would be more than friends. It seemed impossible and inevitable at the same time. But now it’s painfully clear that that is never going to happen.
When making friends is the hardest thing in the world for you, you don’t risk it all by telling one of them that you’re in love with him.
CHAPTER 12
CHARLIE
The sound of Queen Bey’s “Run the World” wakes me up at nine a.m. I press my face into the pillow and reach a hand out, fumbling around the bedside table to turn my alarm off. I hit snooze and roll over, but sit up when I see Jamie and Taylor sleeping in the same bed. The room was so dark when I came in last night that I just assumed Jamie was on the couch.
They must have fallen asleep watching TV while I was with Mandy. I can’t help but smile at how adorkable they look, facing each other, close enough to touch, but not making physical contact. It sums up their relationship perfectly: both wanting to be close, but not close enough that it gives away how they really feel about each other.
I pick up my pillow and throw it at them to wake them up. It lands on Taylor’s head, but she doesn’t even flinch. Jamie rubs his eyes and gently lifts the pillow off her head, then throws it back at me, hitting me in the face. I fall back on the bed, laughing.
“Guys,” I say. “Wake up! I have the morning free before the panel. Let’s do something!”
Jamie props himself up on an elbow. “Like what?”
Tay wakes up then, groaning and muttering something about going back to sleep.
I jump off my bed and onto theirs. “Come on, we’ve hardly had a chance to hang out this weekend.” She opens her eyes, and I give her my best pout, making her laugh.
