Page 81 of The Fangirl Project
It’s so silly, because it’s obviously not going tofixanything.
But…it does make me feel a little less at sea.
I don’t watch much more of the show, instead rewatching old episodes. The new content feels tainted and leaves me with an ashy taste in my mouth now that I can’t share it with Jake. I don’t want to annoy him, and he obviously isn’t interested in talking to me—even in the Discord. Our chat’s been dead since we agreed to be friends.
Which is the greatest goddamn irony of all.
I’d give up The Fangirl Project and my crush and even—especially—that kiss, if it just meant I got my friends back.
That’s when I realize that I even miss Max. Putting the kiss aside, he was…I mean, he wastherefor me at the party, wasn’t he? And he drove me home that time. He put me on to the audiobooks, and Argonauta has become a firm fixture in my Spotify listens since he introduced me to them. And after our conversation through the bathroom door, I realize that I misjudged him a lot, too.
I keep replaying what he said about being himself and not living his life for other people. His cosplay doesn’t seem so mortifyingly cringeworthy, in that light.
I think about it every time I debate over what to wear to school and trawl Instagram to see if the girls have posted a fit check yet that morning—it’s habit, at this point, even if I’m avoiding our morning Costa trips for now.
Jake’s voice rings in my head, shouting at me for being so shallow.
But I guess I don’t know how to be otherwise, and I keeppicking outfits based on what the others are wearing. At least, I figure, it’ll help me fade into the background.
November slips past with the weather as gray and dismal as my mood, and then I’m kept blessedly distracted by extra shifts at H&M and heavy loads of schoolwork. The girls start making plans to go ice-skating or watch the new Lindsay Lohan Netflix Christmas movie, and I make excuses to get out of all of it.
Which works, until it doesn’t.
—
“Because you’re taller than me!Cerys,please,” Evie wheedles. “I can’t be bothered to go find the stepladder. Just grab me the box of chalk on the top shelf, will you? It’ll taketwo seconds.”
She’s being weirdly annoying about such a small favor, dragging me to the art room after school finishes to help her get some supplies, badgering me at my shoulder even though I’ve already agreed.
She undoes the latch on the supply room door—
And shoves me inside, slamming it shut behind her. I’m pushed right into someone; the light is on, and it’s Daphne—pink-cheeked and seething, her arms crossed tightly.
The latch flips back into place on the other side of the door, and I rattle the handle uselessly.
“Evie! What the hell?”
“You two need to sort this out! We’re all sick of you both doing the whole cold-shoulder thing.”
“But—”
And then Chloe’s voice joins in from the other side of the door, too, shouting, “Whatever’s gone on, you two need to talk through it and hear each other out. Then you can either make up or decide you’re not friends anymore. We’re going to get coffees; we’ll be back in half an hour.”
Nikita calls, “Try not to kill each other!” Then her voice drops, but I can still hear her through the door. “Wait, Evie, are there scalpels in there? Should we have checked?”
“We’re not going to kill each other!” Daphne and I both shout back, and share a look. Her mouth purses, and I swallow a huff. There’s the sound of the other girls walking away, though, leaving us stuck in here until they let us out.
Daphne sighs, moving to the corner to sit on a stack of boxes. She doesn’t quite look at me as she asks, “Did Evie tell you she needed help reaching the top shelf, too?”
“We’re not even that much taller than her. Why did we fall forit?”
She rolls her eyes, but it feels good-natured. “Because she’sEvie.”
I hesitate before taking a seat, too. I get stuck sitting on the floor, since there aren’t any other boxes to perch on, and I wrap my arms around my knees. “They sound like the couples’ counselor my parents see.Talk through your problems, hear where the other person is coming from.”
“How’s that working for them?”
I snort.
