Page 69 of The Fangirl Project
Not because of the arm around me and the breath on my neck or any of that, but—because I know I shouldn’t have said that stuff. That I was out of line. That, even if there is some truth in it, I had no right to say any of it.
My first proper house party is turning into a right royal shit show. My new friend has abandoned me, my best friend has replaced me, Daphne’s definitely going to kick me out of the group, I’ve yelled at theoneother person I know, the host and his friends will think I’m boring for not joining in their game—
—and now I’m shut up in a bathroom, in the dark because I couldn’t find the light switch.
Brilliant.
Stellar work, Cerys, this is exactly how it always goes in the movies. Gold star, kid. You’re nailing it.
I unlock my phone. There are some notifications waiting for me—a few things in the group chat, the other girls telling me to have a good night and let them know how it goes with Jake, demanding outfit pics I forgot to send earlier. There are some from Instagram I ignore, and a few Discord ones I’m about to click on when I see an email. It’s from the website I posted my fanfic on. Someone’s left a comment.
UGH, THE SCENE WE NEEDED! THE SCENE WE DESERVED! LOVE ITTTT. Are you writing any more fics???
My heart gives a funny somersault, and I cradle my phone for a moment, smiling at the screen, this random internet stranger making me feel a little better. I grab a screenshot to send to @silversmithhh, aka Heather, who I know will freak out with excitement on my behalf. Someone liked that silly little thing I made! Someone else feels like we were robbed of a ballroom dance between Lady diSilver and Devon! They get me!
Heather isn’t online and doesn’t see my message, though, so I spend a couple of minutes scrolling through the latest messages in the main chat when I notice one that’s like a punch in the gut.
It’s from Anissa, a few hours ago. I hadn’t checked the chatwhile I was waiting for her to arrive, and then we were too busy getting ready. There’s a reply, too. I stare at them for a while.
@ladyanissadishipper
Ooh, sounds like fun@thesebootsweremadeformoonwalkingAnd good luck with that birthday party from hell@fauningforhim, hope your gluten-free cupcakes turn out okay. I’m off to my first proper party tonight (erk, talk about scary!) but at least I’ll get to meet@runicrascalproperly!
@runicrascal
Excited to hang out with you! Glad Cerys was able to introduce us! Been nice having another book fan to debate with haha
Have Anissa and Jake been…talking, in the Discord? Privately? Have they been messaging before meeting in person today?
He wants someone to talk about the books with, which obviously isn’t me.
Ironically, The Fangirl Project has worked.
Just not for me.
A knock on the bathroom door startles me and I fumble my phone, turning off the screen even though nobody can see it—or see me spiraling.
“Just a sec,” I call.
“It’s me,” the voice on the other side replies.
Max.
Why is it Max?
Surely I’m the last person he wants to talk to? Is he here to demand an apology? It doesn’t…it doesn’tsoundlike it. I mean, it’s not as if he hammered down the door, and his “It’s me” sounded quiet, not pissed off.
He must need the bathroom. It’s the only explanation.
But as I start to drag myself to my feet, there’s a sound on the other side of the door like he’s…sitting down. The light spilling in beneath the door is sliced with a shadow, and I realize hehassat down. We’re back to back, with just the door in between us.
The noise of the party is muted up here.
“I’m sorry,” Max says. “I thought I was helping you out.”
“You did,” I mumble. It’s a little easier to admit that in the dark, without himright there.It’s a little like talking to Jake over Discord, actually. That same sense of detachment and distance, allowing for a little more vulnerability. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff.”
There’s a beat before he says, “That’s really how you see me,huh?”
