Geek Actually Season 1 Omnibus

by Cathy Yardley

  Then again, Vivi was the queen of crazy talk.

  ADITI

  Aditi checked her makeup and hair one last time in the elevator mirror. Elli wasn’t here yet and she hoped she’d hit the right balance of pretty and professional. Not that Elli was the best judge of professionalism, but right now Aditi felt like she could use some support. Michelle had harped on how Booklovers Con was different from the science fiction cons they were used to. There were a lot more New York Times bestselling authors in attendance, as well as tons of the most rabid, book-loving readers in the country. Very important to impress them. She’d picked a flowing dress in bright colors with layers of crepe de chine, topped with a mini cardigan, but now the sweater just looked ridiculous, didn’t it? Was it a style only fashion models could pull off?

  I want them to be impressed by my book, not by my clothes and eye makeup, Aditi had told Michelle, who had replied, Me too, but your book isn’t out yet so this is what they’re going to remember.

  The fact that the audience at this con was so heavily female had at first seemed like a great thing—Aditi would have loved to come to it as an attendee rather than a speaker. But now that she was thinking about walking into the room, she feared it would be like the biggest group of mean girls in the world. Were they all going to be judging her hair, her makeup, her body shape every second?

  The elevator doors opened and Aditi found herself confronted by a crowd. Thousands of readers—mostly women—waited in a huge snaking line to get into the ballroom.

  She moved off to the side and texted Elli. Are you here yet?

  The reply came before she’d gotten more than a few steps toward the ballroom. No! Stuck in Charlotte. Was supposed to change planes here but ugh mechanical problem. They just told us they found a plane for us, though.

  Aditi: LOL, “found” a plane. Like one was just lying around somewhere.

  Elli: Ha! OK, they just said we’re going to board. Should be there by midnight.

  Aditi: See you then! Safe flight.

  Well, no help from Elli’s quarter, and Michelle’s plane had probably just landed. Aditi sighed and looked at the line again. Maybe I should skip this and go up to my room and work on that sample chapter Michelle wants…

  “Ma’am? Miss Aditi?” A young man with short hair and a friendly smile was approaching her. She recognized him from badge pickup but didn’t remember his name and his badge had turned itself around backwards. Trey, maybe? She didn’t want to risk getting it wrong so she just smiled at him. He was some sort of convention staff person, memorable by dint of being one of the only men she’d seen. “You can enter through the authors’ entrance, even if you aren’t signing,” he told her. “No need to wait in this big long line to get in.”

  “Oh, thank you,” she told him, looking to see where he was gesturing. Another set of doors on the other side of the throng.

  “You’re welcome. You looked a little lost. Your first time at Booklovers Con?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, have a good time! And enjoy New Orleans, okay?” He smiled brightly and then hurried off to whatever his next errand was.

  Aditi made her way to the authors’ entrance, showed her badge to the woman there, and then went through the doors into utter madness. A huge ballroom with a forty-foot ceiling was crammed with rows and rows of tables. Every few feet sat an author with a stack of books and their name on a card. A banner overhead proclaimed that more than seven hundred authors were autographing. In the corners were the very biggest sellers, who had the longest lines, and on the edges more authors who were in high demand. A booming voice over the loudspeakers was reading out numbers—raffle tickets, maybe?—and that plus the sound of thousands of readers enthusing and squeeing was nearly deafening.

  I should be networking, Aditi thought, then felt a sudden drop in the pit of her stomach. She’d left her business cards and the cover design postcards that Michelle had FedExed to the hotel up in the room. If I go up there now I’ll never come back down, though.

  She made her way through several of the aisles. Other than the few dozen bestsellers along the edges of the room, most of the authors were just sitting at their tables, waiting and hoping for someone to come talk to them. This would be the perfect time to make some contacts, wouldn’t it? They were all sitting right there, some of her heroes, bestsellers and Hugo Award winners and people who had been on NPR.

  The next row had a sign proclaiming it YA Alley. There was Tim Brown, whose books were being made into movies, and Jane Winter, whose books about goblins and elves Aditi had gotten out of the library when she was thirteen, and Mary Ellen Smart, a young YouTube star turned YA bestseller who was so clever and funny.

  Aditi’s breath was coming in short gasps all of a sudden, like she was about to sneeze, except it wasn’t a sneeze that wanted to burst forth. It was like the moment at the top of the hill on a roller coaster when the scream was building up in her throat. I can’t do this. I don’t belong here.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath, but the thoughts kept coming. I’m not like these people. My book is too weird. My characters are too weird. They’ll only tolerate me because of “diversity.”

  Her hands were starting to shake. Everyone else seemed so calm. They were having fun. This was what Michelle was trying to tell her. This was the world she had to enter now. It was like the first day at a new school, only a thousand, million times worse.

  How am I going to do this? The panic attack was threatening to make her legs too weak to walk.

  “There you are!”

  Aditi whirled around to see Michelle coming toward her, looking as smart and put together as a Working Woman cover model in a power skirt suit, her hair in an upswept twist-bun. Michelle! Thank goodness! she thought, but the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. Normally there’d be a big hug in Aditi’s greeting. Instead, her face was frozen in a rictus.

  “I was just about to try texting you. It’s so loud in here I can’t even hear my phone ring!” Michelle said briskly, then zeroed in on Aditi’s paralysis with a look of concern. Her hand felt gentle and real on Aditi’s shoulder. “You look like you could use a trip to the ladies’ room. I saw one this way.”

  “Good idea,” Aditi managed to squeak.

  Michelle guided her to the restroom and then dabbed her own forehead with a paper towel as if she’d been sweating. “Man. That was completely overwhelming. I’ve never seen a madhouse quite like that. Not even at BEA.”

  Hearing Michelle, normally an ice queen of poise, admit that it was overwhelming even to her made Aditi feel better immediately. She breathed a sigh of relief and went through the same motions as Michelle, running the water and dabbing her face. She could feel her fingers again and her heart rate was evening out. Phew. “I didn’t realize it would be like that.”

  “Well, next year you won’t have to fight through the crowd.” Michelle smiled. “You’ll have your own table where adoring fans can come tell you how great your book was.”

  Aditi knew that was supposed to make her feel better, but at that moment the idea made her stomach clench again. What if they don’t, though? What if no one reads it? What if they read it and don’t like it? She tried to put a brave face on. “O-Of course.”

  “Aditi.”

  She felt Michelle take her hand and shake it, as if to get her attention. She looked Michelle in the eye.

  “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now. But you belong out there. Your book is as good—no, better—than any of theirs, and you belong on the same level with those other authors.”

  “You’re not just saying that because you’re my friend?”

  “No. Look. Impostor syndrome is a real thing. Don’t fall prey to it. It’s going to be fine. You want to get out of here?” Michelle gave her a sly smile. “I’ve got the Faraday company credit card and New Orleans does have some of the best restaurants in the country…”

  Aditi finally returned Michelle’s smile. They’d been really close frien
ds before the professional side of their relationship existed—before they became Author and Editor—and Aditi could see the warmth and caring in Michelle’s eyes. “You don’t think I should be networking or something?”

  “I think you should try to have a little fun.”

  The relief she felt was intense. “You really mean that?”

  “Yes. Let’s get some food in you. And maybe some drink…?”

  “Definitely some drink! This is the town for that, right?”

  “Definitely.” Michelle looked her up and down. “You look fantastic, by the way. I love that dress!”

  “Do you? I bought it online!”

  They chatted happily about online shopping just like they used to, while they made their way to the street. The warm, humid embrace of New Orleans air felt comforting after the ultra-chilled environs of the hotel. Maybe it would be all right. Maybe everything would be all right.

  “While we have some time together, why don’t we talk about book two?” Michelle chirped.

  Aditi felt her stomach drop again. So much for having fun.

  ELLI

  Oh no. Elli could feel the back of the book approaching. She was reading the latest from Neil Gaiman and she was loving it, but the flight delays had been so long and numerous she was sure she was going to run out of book before they landed. Trying to change to an earlier flight had been bad travel karma and now, instead of being early to the con, she was going to be late.

  And yep, five pages left, and more than an hour to go. She sighed, trying to make those final pages last as long as possible, but it was no good. She was out of book and her phone was almost out of battery so she couldn’t read an ebook either. Here in the far back of the airplane, in the very last row, she was stuck in the middle seat. She couldn’t see out the window—plus it was dark, anyway—and her seatmates were asleep.

  The plane jumped and dipped through a patch of turbulence and she gripped the armrests. In an instant the plane had become an interstellar transport. Were they under attack from Imperial forces? She was General Leia Organa, with her best pilot, Poe Dameron, flying the ship, taking her on a diplomatic mission. They were under radio silence and she was in disguise in case they were boarded. More turbulence. Asteroids? She hoped not. Poe would get them out of this. She just had to hold tight.

  It was much more exciting—or at least bearable—to sit through the silence and boredom as Leia on a mission than it was as Elli stuck in the cheapest seat on the plane.

  When they finally landed, she had to wait for nearly the entire plane to empty before she could move, and then when she was halfway to the front she remembered the Gaiman book in the seat pocket! She let the two people behind her go ahead and then hurried back to get it. Now she really was the only one left. Even the flight attendants didn’t seem to be around anymore. It was eerie being the only person on the plane after all those hours trapped in the crowd.

  Even the Jetway was deserted now, except for one woman in a wheelchair. Elli had seen her at the gate earlier—she’d noticed her awesome fishnet stockings and stylish hat but hadn’t talked to her yet. Now, though, Elli saw the book in the woman’s lap. “I just finished reading that!”

  “So did I,” the woman said.

  “Oh, good, then I don’t have to worry about giving away the ending.” Elli sighed in relief. “Did you love it?”

  “I loved Stardust more, but I think Neil’s getting better at writing female characters as he goes along.”

  “You know him?” Elli’s eyes widened.

  The woman chuckled. Long black hair escaped from her hat and her lipstick was glamorously red. “Oh, not personally. Met him once or twice at conventions. But everyone in comics thinks of him as ‘our’ Neil, a comics writer who’s a huge bestseller now. I’m Ruby.” She held out her hand.

  “Elli. Are you going to Booklovers Con, too?”

  “I am, if someone will ever come push me up this ramp.” Ruby looked around with a cynical eye. “I rented a motorized scooter for the con, but I’m stuck here until someone can push me—”

  “I’ll push you!” Elli stuffed her book into her backpack and slung both arms through the straps.

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ll just wait. They can’t leave me here forever.”

  “But you’re done with your book,” Elli argued, making Ruby laugh. “It’s so unfair.”

  “Life isn’t always fair,” Ruby pointed out.

  Elli crossed her arms. So the woman wanted actual logic? Elli could do that, too: “I have to go pick up my suitcase anyway. I might as well push you to baggage claim.”

  “All right, Elli. If you insist,” Ruby said with a smile.

  Elli gripped the handles on the back of the airline wheelchair and steered Ruby up the ramp. At first it was difficult to get the chair going, but once they reached the gate area and the level floor it got easier. “So did you make your hat yourself?”

  “Actually, a fan made it for me. It matches one I drew for a character in one of my comics.”

  “Ooooh, you’re an artist?”

  “And writer.” Ruby pointed to the sign overhead indicating the direction to baggage claim and Elli steered the chair that way.

  “Well, it’s a very well-made hat,” Elli said, pushing hard to one side to get the chair to turn. It had a sticky wheel that kept trying to go sideways, like on a crappy shopping cart. “That much I can see.”

  “Do you make hats?” Ruby asked.

  “And cloaks and dresses and all kinds of costumes. I’m a cosplayer.” Elli rolled the chair to the elevator and pushed the button for the lower level.

  “Really?” Ruby adjusted the hat on her head to a stylish angle. “I could actually use some help with my ball gown. I wanted to get someone to hem it so it wouldn’t interfere with my scooter wheels, but I ran out of time while getting ready for the con. I was just going to try to fake it with safety pins and hope for the best.”

  “Wow. It’s like fate put us together. I bring my sewing kit everywhere.” Elli wheeled the chair to a gradual stop at one side of the carousel. “What’s the gown look like?”

  “It’s meant to be Cinderella, Disney Cinderella, and I’ve got mouse figurines and stuff to attach to the scooter to make it into my pumpkin coach.” Ruby shaped a sphere in the air with her hands.

  “Oh, that’s perfect! And clever!” Elli could already picture it in her mind. “I’ve got my hot glue gun, too.”

  “My bag is that red one,” Ruby said, pointing, “Could you grab it while I call the scooter rental company? You can ride with me to the hotel and we can talk about it.” She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and added under her breath, “That is, if the rental company is still picking up the phone at midnight…”

  “Yes, your highness,” Elli said with a grin. “Your loyal mouse coachman is right on it.” She ran to catch the ruby red bag as it sailed merrily along on the conveyor belt.

  MICHELLE

  Michelle pushed her half-finished crème brûlée toward Aditi. “Oh my God. I can’t eat another bite.” The restaurant around them was starting to quiet down, and a waiter in long apron and white tie squeegeed breadcrumbs from their tablecloth.

  “Neither can I. I admit defeat.” Aditi pulled her spoon from a mostly eaten chocolate bread pudding. “Well, maybe just a tiny taste of the crème brûlée…”

  “It’s liquidy. It’ll fill in the cracks,” Michelle said, pushing it the rest of the way and then snagging Aditi’s bread pudding.

  Aditi chuckled. “I thought you said you couldn’t eat another bite?”

  “Chocolate goes in a different stomach,” Michelle said seriously, and dug in. They were at a table for two at the back of the restaurant. A couple lingered over their wine at the table beside them, and at a booth along the wall a group of businessmen loosened their ties. Two more spoonfuls, though, and she was really and truly done, the definite end of a long, multicourse meal in grand New Orleans style. She let herself bask a moment in the fee
ling of satisfaction from a glorious meal and the restored glow on Aditi’s face. Mission accomplished.

  Time to get back to work. Aditi normally loved to talk about her characters. Instead of pressing her for plot details, Michelle tried to bring up the subject of book two in another way. “So tell me: What’s next for Aja?”

  Aditi’s mouth pressed in a tight line. “Well, her coming of age arc kind of wraps up at the end of the book. I know we left the plot open, but emotionally…” She shrugged. “There’s not a lot left to do with her.”

  “You know what’s hot right now? Series with a different narrator in each book,” Michelle tried, thinking it might spark some inspiration, or even work as reverse psychology if Aditi realized she wasn’t ready to let go of the heroine of the first book after all.

  “Worth thinking about,” Aditi said with a dismissive wave of her hand, as if that weren’t the conversation they were having right now. Maybe it wasn’t. “Speaking of emotional arcs, you doing all right? Post-Ted, I mean? You haven’t said much about it.”

  Now it was Michelle’s turn to wave her hand dismissively. “Let’s not talk about Ted.”

  “Okay, but I want you to know I’m here for you.” Aditi put her hand on the table but didn’t go so far as to reach all the way to Michelle’s hand. “And if you want to talk about you, I’m here to listen. Remember all the advice you gave me about chasing my dreams, having my cake and eating it too, yadda yadda?”

  Michelle let her fingers touch Aditi’s. There were a lot of late-nights at cons when they were younger, talking until the wee hours, when Aditi was debating about marrying Druv and worrying that she’d never be able to write full-time. Michelle remembered vividly the first time Aditi had described the character of Aja, how she lived under in an oppressive regime that controlled females as breeding stock and turned those with undesirable genes into cannon fodder. Sounds like you’ve created an impossible situation for her, Michelle had said. Ahhhh, but that’s why it’s escapism, Aditi had answered. Because the twist will be how she triumphs and gets what she wants in the end. It won’t be easy, and she’ll have to mature a lot to pull it off…