Page 60 of The Fangirl Project
Not normal forthem,of course, but…
I undo the latch and hold the door open for Anissa to come in.“Hi!”
Her mom has idled on the curb, and gives me a wave through the car window before rolling it down. “You girls have fun tonight!”
“We will!” Anissa shouts back. As the car pulls away, she whispers to me, “My mom mixed us some gin and lemonade. And she took me shopping for a new outfit. I think she’s more excited about this than I am.”
I grin, although something about the admission brings that shame crawling back up inside me, that Anissa’s been so left out of things before. I tamp it down, though, and wave for her to follow me inside. We both stick our heads in through the living room door. “Mom, Dad, this is Anissa.”
“Hello, Anissa! Lovely to meet you,” Mom chirps.
“Yes, hello,” Dad says, and thengoes to stand up,like this is some bloody business meeting and he’s going to shake her hand. He used to shake Jake’s hand whenever he saw him, and they’d both make a joke of it. I glare at him and he catches on, sitting back down. He and Mom exchange another look with raised eyebrows. Instead, he says, “We picked up some pizzas for you girls, in case there’s no food at the party. Shall I get them in the oven?”
“Yes, go on,” Mom says for us. “Can we get you anything to drink, Anissa? Some pop?”
“Oh! Um…If you’ve got any Diet Coke or something, please?”
“Coming right up!” They both stand in unison, and Mom ushers us away to my room to get ready, saying she’ll bring everything up. Dad’swhistlingto himself, and Mom doesn’t even snap at him to be quiet.
Anissa and I go up to my room, and I cringe. “Sorry about them. They’re not normally…that weird.”
She laughs. “Don’t worry, my parents are a little like that, too.”
Anissa sets her bag down at the end of my bed. There’s a blow-up mattress squashed into the corner that Mom will sort out later. Unzipping the bag, Anissa pulls out a dress and scrunches her faceup.
“So I know you said you were wearing a dress, but…”
“That issocute, omigosh!” I take it from her to hold it up; it’s a pink wrap dress with a tie in the front and long sleeves. I’m sure I have a lipstick that matches it she could borrow, but Anissa is already pulling some other clothes out of her bag.
“Mom gotreallycarried away. I’d never normally wear this sortof thing, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that. She was just so excited, you know? I don’t…” Anissa blushes, and bites the inside of her cheek, then looks down at the floor as she blurts, “I mean, I don’t need to tellyou,I don’t really get invited to stuff like this. I think she was just happy I was finally being included in something.”
I set the dress down next to her bag, and because I’m not sure there’ll ever be the right time to ask, I say, “I always thought you just…preferred to keep to yourself? You never seemed very bothered.”
She shrugs one shoulder, still not lifting her eyes from her feet, in a way that says she very muchwasbothered.
“Oh. I…I don’t…”
“It’s okay.” She gives a thin, fleeting smile, hardly glancing up at all, and sits on the edge of the bed smoothing out the fabric of the other dress bunched in her hands. Her shoulders are slumped, but there’s something relaxed about her posture that’s more accepting than self-pitying. “It’s one of those things, right? I just…haven’t found my people yet.”
Now Anissa smiles up at me, and it’s hopeful, like she’s not worried about making friends—just finding the right ones.
Like maybeI’mone of the right ones.
Not, you know, a heinous traitor with an ulterior motive.
“The Discord’s been really fab, though,” she gushes. “My parents aren’t really into any of the fandom stuff and I didn’t know anybody at school who was, so it’s nice to finally have some people to talk to about it, and you’re right—they are a really nice bunch, and so easy to chat with. I just wish I’d known about it sooner!I wish I’d knownyouwere a fan sooner, too. You wouldn’t have seemed so intimidating to try to talk to, then.”
She laughs, but all I can do is stare.
“Intimidating?Me?”
“Well, yeah! I mean you always just seem so…so cool, and like you always know what to do and what to wear and what to say, and you never seem to have any trouble making friends or—”
I burst out laughing so hard that she looks miffed at the interruption.
Mom chooses that moment to appear with a glass of Diet Coke for us each. “Pizza won’t be too long! I’ll bring some snacks up with it, too. Don’t want you drinking on an empty stomach! Are you going to be having alcohol, Anissa? Does your mom know? I’d rather you girls be sensible about it, is all.”
“Pleasedon’t do theMean Girls‘cool mom’ speech,” I groan, and Mom immediately starts pretending to hold out a video camera and do the “Jingle Bell Rock” dance like in the original movie. Anissa is giggling behind me, and I can’t decide whether to laugh, too, or wish the ground would swallow me whole.
