Page 95 of The Fangirl Project
A blond girl who’s five foot nothing comes barreling toward us, enveloping me and Anissa in the same hug. “Mythic! Lady diShipper! You came!”
When she pulls back, I realize I saw her on FaceTime just two days ago. “Heather?”
She grins. “That’s me!”
“I thought you’d be taller!” I blurt, then feel my cheeks flame as I stammer, “I—I mean I thought—in my head, you were like five foot ten, or something. You just—not that you’re—”
She laughs, not offended. “I totally get you. It’s definitely the weirdest part of meeting someone IRL—finding out how tall they actually are! I thought you’d be more my height, but that’s probably’cause of the angle of that Brayden Brown selfie…Anyway, come meet the others!”
Heather grabs us both, introducing people by their screen names andthentheir actual names, which is actually really helpful. @fauningforhim is Fiona, a willowy brunette with thick-framed glasses and a shy demeanor; @wizeguy, aka Andreas, is a stocky guy not much taller than me or Anissa, with a broad, wonky smile, who gives everyone big bear hugs. Sam, @sirmoonypants, turns out to be a beefy bearded guy and looks more like he belongs in a punk rock band than studying economics, while @thesebootsweremadeformoonwalkingis a waify woman in her fifties named Theresa—with her nose ring, pinstripe trousers, and matching waistcoat, she’s also not at all who I imagined.
Mostly everyone’s from the Discord, but some people brought their partners, and it turns out Anissa and I are the last to arrive. A waiter comes in to take our drink orders, and as the group starts splitting up to grab tables and board games, I see two people talking in the corner.
My heart leaps. Contracts. Falls to the pit of my stomach. Does somersaults.
Generally, goes a little haywire.
My mouth is dry and my palms sweat, but I’m suddenly laser-focused. Maybe it’s not the perfect time—but when is? It never is! I should just do it. Shouldn’t I?
I’m already walking over, so I guess I reallyamdoing this.
Jake is standing with his back to me, and Max is distracted by the rules on a card game box, so they don’t notice me until I’m right there.
It’s Max who sees me first, doing a double take and then openinghis mouth like he’s about to say my name, although he never quite does. He just ends up staring at me, which, really, is fair enough, because I’m stuck doing the same thing. Staring at his parted lips, thinking that the last time I saw him,I kissed him,and it was a really,reallygood kiss, and…
And I’ve missed him. I have.
Maybe not the way he doesn’t actually talktome, but his insights on the show, and the kind of conversation we shared through the bathroom door at the party, and…and his arm around me, like he was looking out for me, and thekiss…
I drag my eyes back up to his, and my whole body feels simultaneously on fire and like jelly—like pins and needles prickling all over my skin, and a mushy mess inside. I should say something, I know I should, but what do you say to a boy you kissed once and haven’t seen or spoken to since?
Before I can manage something very casual and ordinary—maybehi,orwhy didn’t you text me?—Jake has turned around.
Relief floods his face and he hugs me, looking so honestly, earnestly happy to see me, like the same old Jake and like nothing’s ever changed or gone wrong between us. I’m too stunned to react properly. I half-hug him back, and keep staring at Max, who keeps staring at me.
Jake finally draws away, but doesn’t quite let go of me.
“Oh man, I’ve missed you like crazy. Can we not do this again, please? I know I’ve been a jerk to you, but—”
“No, it’s—you—I should have…”
Get it together, Cerys, come on! This is your big MOMENT. This is it! Remember? And for God’s sake, stop staring at Max!
Right. Yes. The New and Improved Fangirl Project.
Jake.
Not Max.
I finally wrench my gaze away from Max, looking somewhere down at Jake’s feet, and then manage to look at the neck of his T-shirt, which is somewhat better, and I take a deep breath.
“I understand,” I tell Jake. “I do, really. And I’m sorry. I guess I should’ve been more upfront with you, and—”
“No, no, Cer, this is my fault. I’m the one who—”
“But it was just—it wasn’t…I mean…”A mistake, reckless, stupid, just a kiss,but I can’t say any of those things, not with Max right there, and not when I’m trying so hard to be honest right now.
I regret losing Jake; I do not regret that kiss.
