Foolish Hearts

by Emma Mills

  “They have Styrofoam cups instead of plastic cups,” Gideon explains. “Styrofoam cups are for warm drinks, but they’re serving cold drinks in them. It makes no sense. I can’t be a part of that.”

  “So…”

  “So we’re going somewhere else! Where should we go? What do you want to do?”

  I don’t particularly want to go into Melissa Pratt’s house, but I did drive all the way here. And I put on a shirt with like an actual shape to it, which goes against my nonuniform, nonwork clothes policy of maximum comfort and minimal effort.

  “Uh, I don’t know. Are there … other parties? It’s not like we can go to a bar.” I figure they want to drink, but Gideon shakes his head.

  “We’re not trying to party party,” he says. “I don’t drink. And neither does Noah.”

  “There was an incident,” Noah says.

  “The RumChata Incident of freshman year,” Gideon explains.

  “What happened?”

  “We don’t speak of it. But we’ve both sworn off alcohol forever.”

  “I mean, not forever,” Noah says.

  “Forever,” Gideon says emphatically. “We took a vow.”

  “We did take a vow,” Noah admits with a sheepish smile.

  * * *

  We go to Steak ’n Shake instead. Sudha opts to stay at Melissa’s, but Alicia comes, too.

  We get a booth in the corner. Noah heads off to the restroom, and for a moment, it’s silent. Alicia is checking her phone. Gideon is staring at the menu. The sights and sounds of Steak ’n Shake press on around us.

  “What are you going to get?” Gideon says eventually, looking up at me.

  “Um. They have a cookies ’n cream shake that’s really good.”

  His face lights up. “That’s Noah’s favorite, too!”

  Silence again.

  “So, uh … how long have you known him?” I ask finally, because Gideon asked me a question, and so etiquette-wise, I’m probably obligated to ask one back.

  “Noah?” he says. “Forever.”

  I raise an eyebrow.

  “No, really. Our moms have been friends since they were in school, and we grew up together. Like literally, since birth. They put matching outfits on us and propped us next to each other for photos before we could even sit up. So I don’t remember meeting him or becoming friends with him. We just always were. You know, like one of those intrinsic facts you’ve always known about yourself. Like you don’t really remember learning your own name, do you? I’m Gideon Prewitt, and Noah Edelman is my best friend.”

  “I feel like that about my best friend,” I say. “But I remember becoming friends with her. It was in preschool. So, you know. I was able to sit up on my own and stuff.”

  Gideon smiles.

  Noah returns, and we order, and eventually we’re settled in with milk shakes. Noah and Alicia are talking about some article they’d both read online when Gideon takes a long pull from his shake and then leans forward, resting his arms on the tabletop.

  “So I wanna know more about Battle Quest.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Your game. The game you play. Are there fairies in it? Like in Midsummer? Could I be king of the fairies in the game?”

  “No fairies. None of the races have wings in Battle Quest.”

  “The races? Like … wizard and stuff?”

  “Those are classes. There are races—like human, or elf, or troll. But then there are classes, which is like your job or your skill. Maestro, mage, busker, archer, notary…”

  “Notary? Like a guy who stamps documents?”

  “Notary signore. They’re a magic class. They use symbols and stuff. To be honest, no one really plays it unless they absolutely have to. In order to get your cavalier past thirty you have to level your notary up to fifteen.”

  “Which means…”

  “Um … so you can have more than one class on the same character, but you have to build it all the way up, like go through all the levels to gain all the skills. It’s kind of like … earning degrees in different things? So you can’t become a cavalier without a notary minor?”

  “Huh.” Gideon considers this for a moment, chewing on his straw. “What’s your character like?”

  “She’s a thaumaturge. It’s another magic class.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Viola Constantinople. It was the first name I thought of.”

  “The first name you thought of was Viola Constantinople?”

  “Yes.”

  “I like the way you think,” he says with a grin. “Do you play any other games?”

  “Other MMOs?”

  “Sure.”

  “No. Just Battle Quest.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I like it. My brother and sister play it, too. And I got Zoe into it.” I realize Gideon has no idea who Zoe is. “My—my best friend. From Springdale. We all play together sometimes—my sister’s husband joins in, and we raid, do the higher level dungeons and stuff.”

  “You have a brother and a sister?”

  “Yeah. Both older.” I fumble with my straw. “Do you have siblings?”

  “One sister. Victoria. She’s six years younger.”

  “Did you ever want a brother too?”

  “I already have one, remember?” he says, nodding toward Noah.

  I smile.

  “So,” he says. “Do you and your brother and sister and everybody all get together and play? Like on a big TV or something?”

  “Oh, no. Everyone has to play on their own screen. At their own house, usually. I mean, Zoe comes over, obviously, but my sister and brother-in-law live in Indianapolis.”

  “So you’re at your house, and they’re at their house…”

  “Yeah, but we usually talk online, like Skype or whatever while we’re playing. And we can all text chat in the game and see each other’s characters. We get on there and it’s like…”

  Like we’re all hanging out. Existing in this alternate shared space.

  Time passes in the game—three minutes in Aradana is equal to one hour of real time. So there’s dusk. Dawn. Sunsets. Stars. There’s weather. There are rivers and lakes and forests and villages and … other people, all populating this strange virtual world. It’s not tangible. But somehow, when we’re there, when we play—it doesn’t feel real, exactly, it doesn’t feel like real life, but it feels like what it is. Something separate, and ours.

  “We all like different parts of it,” I say after a pause. “My brother likes raiding, my sister likes the side quests and stuff. And I guess I like the idea that … you know, that we’re somewhere apart but still together.” I take a long drink of my shake, and when I look back up, Gideon’s gaze is fixed on me. There’s something soft about his expression that I don’t know what to do with, so I take another drink and then say, “There’s also this wizard we really want to fight.”

  “Sorry?”

  “So in the recent expansion—that’s like where they add new features and new quests to the game—the rumor is that if you follow a series of side quests correctly, you unlock a secret area in the game: the Island of Souls. On the Island of Souls is the ultimate boss, the Lord of Wizard. If you battle him and win, untold riches await you.”

  “Untold riches? What does that even mean?”

  “I don’t know. No one’s actually beat him yet.”

  “For real?”

  “Well, there are rumors online of people doing it but nothing definitive. We’ve been trying really hard to get there though.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do it,” Gideon says, swirling the straw around in his shake. “Can anyone play?”

  “Sure.”

  “I want to. Let’s go to your house and play right now.”

  “Well, I mean, you have to get the game and, like, design your character and all that. And like I said, you have to play on your own computer, it’s not like we could all play on mine or something.”

  “Oh.” He looks disa
ppointed. But only for a moment. “Let’s see a movie then. Noah, movies?”

  Noah starts to search on his phone as I look askance at Gideon. “It’s, like, ten thirty already.”

  “So? It’s Friday.”

  “Won’t your mom care if you’re out that late?”

  “She’s at work right now,” he says.

  “Gideon’s mom is a very successful exotic dancer,” Noah adds, eyes on his phone.

  “Dude.”

  “Gideon’s mom is an ob-gyn,” Noah amends.

  “Yes, she’s busy bringing new life into this world. And it conveniently coincides with my little sister sleeping over at a friend’s house tonight, which means I don’t have to go home, which means we should see a movie.”

  “What about your dad? Where’s he?” I ask before I can think better of it.

  “Tokyo,” Gideon replies. “On business.”

  “He’s a very successful exotic dancer,” Noah says, and I smile.

  “Pulling in some serious yen?”

  “So many.”

  “Guess there’s not much he can do about you pushing curfew then,” I say. “But unfortunately, my mom is not actively pulling a human out of another human, and my dad is in this time zone, so I should probably get home soon.”

  Gideon grins.

  nineteen

  When I get to the costume shop on Monday, Del holds up two oversized fake flowers—one purple and one white.

  “For me?” I say, and she makes a face.

  “You want to run these upstairs? Give them to Tara Schmidt. Do you know her? She’s stage manager.”

  I know Tara Schmidt in the same way that everyone knows everyone at PLSG. I have had at least three classes with her, and I know at least two things about her—in this case, that she plays the piccolo and is stage manager for this play.

  I take the flowers and head upstairs. When I duck into the theater, it appears they’re running through the start of act one. I find Tara sitting toward the front with Mr. Palmer, a big binder open in her lap.

  She lights up when she sees the flowers and whispers a quick “Tell Del thanks!” before shifting laser focus back to the proceedings onstage.

  When I leave the theater, someone calls my name. Paige is standing at the end of the hall, and she gestures me her way.

  “Got a second?”

  I head toward her.

  “I heard that you’re helping people with their lines,” Paige says when I’m closer.

  “Um … not on purpose?”

  “But you get it.” She’s got a script in one hand and she holds it up. “Like what it’s trying to say.”

  “Sort of? I don’t know. I just read it like everyone else.”

  I also watched the movie adaptations I could find online. And I read some articles about it. Just casual research. I did the same thing when I wanted to know more about the Titanic or collected filmography of Fred Astaire. When I’m interested in a thing, I want to know about that thing. Extensively.

  It is a process that may or may not be happening right now with a band called This Is Our Now. Hard to say. It’s still in the early stages.

  “Maybe you could help me and Gideon with our first scene,” Paige says, gesturing to an open classroom door a few feet away.

  Ask the director, he knows what he’s doing, I think. “If you want,” I say instead, and follow her inside.

  * * *

  I watch Paige and Gideon’s first scene together—the meeting of Titania and Oberon in the woods. They’ve been fighting over the fate of a changeling boy; Titania was friends with the boy’s mom and wants to raise him, but Oberon wants him to join his crew instead. As a result of their fight, everything in the world—weather, seasons, time—has gone sort of haywire.

  Paige and Gideon have both changed out of their uniforms. Paige is wearing athletic shorts and a T-shirt from some kind of charity run. Gideon is wearing jeans and a patterned shirt. Neither of them look like fairy royalty. And yet, when they start the scene, they each adopt a kind of … royal air about them.

  Paige is good. Very good. I don’t remember seeing her in any school plays previously, but she really seems to know what she’s doing. She doesn’t trip up around the language. She’s expressive and confident.

  And I don’t know what I expected from Gideon, but as soon as they start, he goes from goofy and dimply to … strong and commanding. He seems taller. His voice seems deeper.

  They seem like … well, like the King and Queen of some kingdom. The fairy kingdom, in this case.

  “What do you think?” Paige says when they finish.

  “It’s good,” I say, because it really was.

  But Paige’s expression urges me on, because it seems like good is not good enough for her.

  “It just … I don’t know. Really, I don’t know anything about anything, but I guess I’d just say … it seems really serious right now.”

  “It is serious, isn’t it?” Gideon says. “They’re fighting.”

  “Yeah, but … okay, don’t get me wrong, their relationship is obviously super dysfunctional. But I feel like they kind of live for the drama, you know? Like they kind of love it? That’s part of their dynamic. And also … it seems like there’s genuine feeling there, between them. Or they would just get bored and move on, instead of always coming back for more.” I make a face. “At least to me. That’s how I read it, I guess.”

  “No, that makes sense,” Paige says, nodding. “Right?”

  Gideon nods.

  “How would you play that in the scene?” Paige says. “What would you do?”

  “I’m not an actor.”

  “But what would you want to see?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Like … sparks, I guess. Almost like they’re sparring. But … in a hot way.”

  Inwardly I cringe. Sparring in a hot way. Brilliant.

  But Paige just grins. “Okay. Yeah.”

  They start the scene over.

  There’s a back-and-forth this time. There’s more fire to it. Gideon grins on “Am not I thy lord?” and Paige’s eyes widen, she holds a hand to her heart, feigning surprise.

  “Then I must be thy lady.”

  She’s sharp from there, calling Oberon out for courting Hippolyta, describing all the repercussions that their fight has had on the mortal world. But she softens, talking about the mother of the changeling boy, the time they spent together before her death. It’s sweet, and sad. Melancholy, even as she glances to and from the script for lines.

  Gideon’s standing tall and proud at the beginning of that last speech, but by the end of it, it’s almost as if he too has softened. He steps closer to Paige, reaches for her wrist, and clasps it lightly. When he speaks, his voice is almost gentle:

  “How long within this wood intend you stay?”

  “Perchance till after Theseus’ wedding day,” she says, and turns to him, eyes wide and imploring. “If you will patiently dance in our round and see our moonlight revels, go with us.” A slight shake of her head. “If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.”

  It’s good. This is good stuff.

  Yes, my brain says.

  Gideon looks at Paige for a moment. Drifts closer, like he almost can’t help it. Paige rests a hand against his chest, and for a second it looks as if they’re going to kiss.

  ALSO NO, my brain replies.

  They linger for a moment, just inches away from each other, until Gideon speaks: “Give me that boy and I will go with thee,” and suddenly it’s like he flipped a switch. Paige pushes him away, all fire and brimstone.

  “Not for thy fairy kingdom—Fairies, away! We shall chide downright if I longer stay.” And she storms offstage, which, in this case, takes her just a few feet to the right, before she turns and looks at me expectantly.

  They both do, like they weren’t just about to make out in front of me.

  “Yeah,” I say, and my voice comes out a little too loud. “Yeah, like that.”

  Paige beams.<
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  twenty

  Lena Ideker hosts a party for the cast and crew on Friday night.

  “All these freaking cast bonding activities,” Iris said when I mentioned it after rehearsal on Wednesday. She had come to the shop to go over her scene with Puck again. “I don’t want to bond. I specifically want to not bond. What’s the opposite of bond?”

  “Alienate?”

  “I want to alienate.”

  “Well, you’re pretty good at it.”

  “Hey.”

  I grinned.

  Iris didn’t say if she was coming or not, so it’s a bit of a surprise to see her standing in Lena’s massive kitchen, holding a soda and glaring openly at the room.

  I consider going over to her when Gideon intercepts me.

  “Claudia! You’re here!”

  “Yeah. It said cast and crew, right?” Right?

  “It did. And you are. Cast and crew, I mean. Or crew, specifically. Do you want something to drink?”

  “I’m good.”

  “We’re hanging out in the family room,” he says. “Noah and other people. Del’s here, too! She never comes out. You should say hi.”

  I follow Gideon to the family room, where indeed Noah and Del and a few other people—Alicia, Paige, Madison Lutz, and a couple guys who are both Mechanicals in the show—have congregated, sprawling out on a giant U-shaped leather sectional. I’ve never seen a couch that big before, but apparently they exist.

  There’s a massive TV hanging on the opposite wall—more like a small movie screen—and it’s currently showing the opening credits of a Pixar movie.

  “You weren’t supposed to pick until I got back!” Gideon says.

  “Majority rules,” Del replies. She’s holding a cup of something in one hand and a TV remote in the other. She holds the drink up to me in acknowledgment when I sink down onto the cushion next to her. “We also decided we need popcorn and we voted you go find some,” she says to Gideon, “since you’re the only person here who actually likes Lena.”

  “Delilah,” Paige chides from Del’s other side, but Gideon jumps up.

  “I will not return without popcorn. Who’s with me?”