Page 46 of Reggie and Delilah's Year of Falling

But when we’re walking up the sidewalk to Story Sanctorum, purple jacaranda flowers falling from the trees like SoCal snow, I know with certainty that’s not true. I see Reggie talking with his friends, his nose wrinkling as he laughs at a joke. I feel his warm rumbly laugh in my chest, and my stomach goes all fluttery in anticipation of what we’ll talk about. I know that bribing Georgia and dealing with her wild-card behavior is worth it to be here right now, feeling like this.

“Friends, huh?” she whispers to me. I can hear the satisfied smirk she’s giving me in her voice.

She pokes my cheek, and I realize just how big I’m smiling.

Reggie

“There goes your girl, Reg,” Yobani says, nodding from our place in line.

“Well, technically she’s not Reggie’s girl because—”

Yobani and I both cut Greg off. “Shut up, Gruly.”

“And, Yo, you too,” I add, bumping his shoulder with mine.

Of course I’ve already seen Delilah. My eyes zeroed in on her as soon as she stepped off the bus and started walking toward Story Sanctorum from the stop. But I’ve been trying to play it cool, acting like I’m absorbed in a conversation and Yobani’s jokes about the new Star Wars movie were actually funny. And now she’s close, so close that she could possibly hear my friends’ cringey comments about her, resulting in my eternal embarrassment. And also close enough that I can see her smiling.

It’s not the slight upturn of her lips that I’m used to seeing. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d be happy to get one of those, because she dishes them out so sparingly, like a teacher trying tomake a large cheese pizza last for a class party. But no—this smile is a whole pie with pepperoni and sausage, plus a two-liter of Sprite and a family-size bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, all for me. It lights up her whole face and seems to make the sun shine just a little bit brighter.

I’m determined to get it right this time. I’m determined to be exactly who I need to be, so I can get this smile all the time.

“Hey!” I call when she’s right there and I won’t look like a total stalker for acknowledging her.

“Hi,” Delilah says. The smile has turned down a few notches, but its effects are still lingering in my brain and body.

“Um, okay, well, I’m Georgia.” The girl next to her steps forward and waves dramatically, and I realize we’ve just been standing there batting our eyes at each other, like two kindergartners that haven’t yet learned what to do next. “I’m this one’s sister, along for the ride today. Happy Free Comic Book Day to all who celebrate!”

This girl’s got wild auburn curls and a face full of freckles, but they have the same wide noses and long lashes framing their dark brown eyes. Georgia narrows her at me, looking me up and down.

“Are you Reggie?” she asks, and Delilah knocks into her. She mumbles, “Sorry,” trying to play it off as an accident even though it definitely wasn’t. So that means she’s been talking to her sister about me.

“Yeah, I’m Reggie,” I say, going in for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Georgia.”

“Yes, it’s so nice to meet Delilah’sfriends,” she says, earning lethal side-eye from Delilah this time. Okay, so that means she’sbeen talking to her sister about mebeing her friend. Great.

Everyone goes around and introduces themselves, but I can’t even focus, because Delilah really was friend-zoning me in those texts. I tried to convince myself that I was just overanalyzing and assuming the worst, but this goes to show that there is no such thing as overanalyzing and the worst is PROBABLY WHAT IS HAPPENING.

“... like, really into comics?” I catch the end of Georgia’s question, and I realize I need to stop the spiral and pay attention. This isn’t over. I can still fix this.

“Yes,” Greg replies. “But I’d say we’re more equal-opportunity nerds. Comics are just one of our many passions.”

“They also play D&D. Reggie is the DM,” Delilah adds. Georgia raises an eyebrow like her sister just said we twerk on the moon.

“Is that like BDSM?” she asks.

“No! Oh my god, no.” I’ve never been more grateful that my cheeks don’t show a blush, because I can feel my face flaming.

“Hey, speak for yourself,” Yobani says, smirking.

“He iskidding! Yobani, tell her you’re kidding.” But instead of listening to directions, he shrugs.

Greg and Delilah are both cracking up, and Georgia’s eyes are lit up with confusion but also delight. “So this is a sex thing or...?”

“Not! It’s not!” And I need to be quieter, because the two guys in front of us holding hands and wearing matching Green Lantern shirts are turning around to stare. “D&D stands for Dungeons & Dragons. And the DM is the Dungeon Master... though sayingthat out loud, I can see how that could totally still be a sex thing.”

Seriously, my cheeks are about to spontaneously combust.

“It’s actually really cool, G,” Delilah says. “I thought it was, I don’t know... guys dressing up and pretending to be wizards in the park? But it’s really creative. It’s more like storytelling. Reggie comes up with these epic, uh, adventures for them to play every week.”

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