What Happens Now (16 page)

“I hope so,” said Richard. He pulled the paper bag out of my hand. “It’s okay, Ari. I don’t think I’m required to ask you any embarrassing questions. At least, not here.”

The door chimed and we all looked up to see Eliza and Max come in.

“We have some work to do,” said Eliza, holding up a laptop computer case, “but you said you couldn’t get away today. So we came to you.”

She pulled out her laptop and Richard looked at me quizzically.

“It’s sort of an art project we’re doing together,” I told him.

“And this will all make sense in the end?”

“Absolutely.”

He jerked his head toward the office. “Go in there. If it gets
busy and I need you, I’ll holler.”

I kissed him on the cheek and led Camden, Eliza, and Max into the back room, where there was a cracked leather sofa and a desk before you got to the shelves of boxes.

“Oooh,” sighed Eliza when she saw some of the supplies in storage.

“So what do we need to do?” I asked.

“We need to watch the episode,” she said.

In all of our talk about
Silver Arrow
, we’d never actually watched the damn thing together. It was like we were retracing the separate paths of our fandom, and now we’d finally reached a point where they all started. The actual, you know, show itself.

Max put the laptop on the desk and fed it a DVD. It caught the light from the anemic overhead bulb and I thought of my mom. How she was the only other person I’d ever watched it with.

Mom was always very serious about the viewing experience. If I was confused about the plot, I could ask her questions (after we paused the episode), but otherwise she asked for silence until it was over. Then we could talk about it.

Mom, why does Captain Marr do things he knows are wrong?
This was my introduction to ethics and morals, and also how people can be assholes sometimes but still mostly good.

Mom, Bram drives me crazy. He just doesn’t get it!
That was how I first learned about being tolerant of those who were different from myself.

I grew to love the silence of our watching. I knew she was beaten up from her day and this was her downtime. I knew it doubled as
our time,
too, that I never felt closer to her than when we were sitting next to each other on our Salvation Army couch, sharing this thing.

So it unmoored me now, to watch it with Camden, Eliza, and Max. To hear them make jokes and snarky comments. For Eliza to say, “I love this part. Notice how Satina moves around the room while the men stay still? It’s her way of checking her power over them.”

It wasn’t better or worse than watching it with Mom; it was simply a different
Silver Arrow
. A joyful thing, worth celebrating. Worth having your fandom out loud.

We’d reached the scene where Satina and Azor were trying to find their way out of the carnival fun house when I finally had the nerve to turn to Eliza and ask, “So if Camden will be Marr and Max is Bram, who are you dressing up as?”

Eliza paused the DVD. “I’ll be Azor.”

“
You’ll
be Azor.”

“I’m actually really excited about it. I’ve never crossplayed before.”

The hardcore Arrowhead in me bristled. Eliza was short. Way too short to be Azor. Azor was quiet and mysterious and repressed, and even though I didn’t know Eliza well, I did know she was none of those things. But her dark, hint-of-exotic features were right, from a purely physical standpoint.
And I knew she had plenty of confidence and creativity to pull it off.

“I know,” she said, breaking into my silence. “You’ve been hot for Azor for years. It’ll be a little weird for us.”

“Is that true?” asked Camden, shifting his position on the sofa so he could face me.

I looked at him, then back at Eliza, then up at the highest shelf of the tallest bookcase.

“No,” I lied.

“Why are you embarrassed?” teased Eliza. “Sure, the guy is trained as a Zendian Nocturne monk and all that. But there’s that episode where Satina learns about the rumors.”

“Okay, stop,” I said, still unable to look at them.

“What rumors?” asked Camden, his voice electric with curiosity.

“That the Nocturnes have amazing sexual abilities, and take the vow of celibacy in order to protect others from a pleasure so pure, it leads to addiction . . .
and death
.” Eliza echoed the memorable, overdramatic way that line had been delivered on the show.

“Oh,” said Camden. “Yeah. That’s pretty hot.”

I felt my face flush.

“
A pleasure so pure.
Guys never remember that line,” said Eliza. “But trust me, the girls do.”

“There is definitely some tension between Satina and Azor in this episode,” said Camden. “I always thought it was there for comic relief.”

“Can we please watch the rest of the episode now?” I asked, finally looking at them. I didn’t want Camden to know how hard I crushed on Azor. It felt like I was cheating on him.

Eliza studied me for a moment, her finger hovering over the Play button on the keyboard. “It’ll be okay, Ari. We’re going to have an epic time with this.”

We finished watching in silence, but even our silence was different from the Mom silence. When it was over, Eliza and I made some notes about the costumes, then I let them out through the back door.

Camden lingered on the step for a moment, his face searching mine. Was he going to kiss me? Were things forever awkward now that I’d been outed as an Azor girl?

“Call me tonight?” he whispered, although I wasn’t sure why.

My hand reached out of its own volition and touched his shoulder. “Can’t wait,” I said. He smiled and jumped down the steps to the alley. It took all my self-control not to follow him.

When I came back into the store, Richard raised one eyebrow at me.

“All will be revealed?” he asked.

“In time, my friend. In time.”

On my next afternoon off two days later, when I knew Camden was working at the hotline, Eliza summoned me to the Barn. I drove there through a thunderstorm, wondering what could be so important.

Inside, she had all the elements of my costume laid out on the couch.

“It’s done,” she said. “All that’s missing is you.”

I took the costume into the downstairs bathroom and began putting it on. First the brown leggings we’d bought online, which nearly sparkled in the bright lights above the bathroom mirror and instantly itched. Next, the white shirt Eliza had gone to four different area thrift stores to find; it had a slight ruffle underneath the V-neckline. Then, the purple tunic and brown belt, both of which Eliza had designed and made herself. I’d helped by sewing on the belt buckle and three brown triangular buttons—miraculously, we had them in stock at Millie’s—down the front of the tunic. Eliza had ordered handmade replica flight pins from some woman in North Dakota, and had already stuck mine on the collar.

Finally, I slipped my feet into my boots.

Silly stupid silly. You’re going to look like an idiot.

I turned away from that voice. It was too late to listen. I put on the wig cap and called to Eliza.

“I need some help with her hair!” We were always referring to Satina as “her,” the silent third wheel in our new friendship.

Eliza came into the bathroom and smiled when she saw me, but didn’t say anything. She picked up the wig, a long cascade of hair the color of cherrywood, and shook it out, held it delicately. I turned toward her and she slipped it on, taking a few moments to adjust it. She bit her lip and then said, “Check it out.”

I turned back to the mirror.

I was not me. I was not really Satina, either. I was someone beyond both those people, too shocked to try and figure out who.

“I like,” said Eliza. “Do you?”

“It looks . . . fantastic.”

“Not
it
.
You. You
look fantastic.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Is there anything that feels uncomfortable?
Physically
uncomfortable. Anything we need to fix before the fair?”

I took stock for a moment, then shook my head. No. The costume fit. The pieces worked. The rest was up to me.

“Okay, then let’s move on to the shirt.”

Satina changed clothes halfway through the “Ferris Wheel” episode, stealing a plaid shirt from a hook in the stables so she’d be less conspicuous among the 1950s fairgoers. Eliza wanted to do one set of shots where I was wearing that, so she’d found some fabric that was almost the exact same pattern and sewn a shirt from scratch.

I tried it on. She’d gotten this one exactly right, too. We carefully put the clothes back on their hangers and into garment bags, ready and waiting for fair night.

“You’re done,” she said. “Now, onto Bram.” She busied herself with another garment bag and I took that as my cue to leave, muttering a
Byeseeyoulater
as I went.

When I stepped outside, the rain had let up but was still falling in an even rhythm. The air felt newly created, light and
unencumbered, as if the storm had washed all seriousness right out of it.

Max had just arrived and was walking toward me with an open umbrella.

“Successful fitting?” he asked.

“She’s happy,” I replied.

“Well, thank God for that. It’s the only reason I’m doing the cosplay. Here, let me be chivalrous.” He held the umbrella over me and escorted me to my car. When we got there, Max paused, staring at me.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I’m not going to give you the standard ‘Don’t break Camden’s heart’ speech.”

“You would never need to.”

“But I want to ask, how does it feel? Is he what you imagined?”

I felt heat rush through me. “What do you mean?”

“I remember you. From last summer. I remember how you looked at him.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to hide the full-body cringe. “Was it that obvious?”

“Only to me. I think I noticed it because I’ve been there. Not with Eliza. Another girl from school, two years ago.”

“You never said anything to him about me?”

Max paused, shrugged. “I knew Eliza wanted him. I didn’t want to make extra drama.”

“Don’t say anything now.”

“I would never. But would you?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Does it matter? I’ve changed a lot since then. I want him to only know about the me right now.”

Max smiled as he opened my driver’s side door for me, then put one hand gently on my shoulder.

“People think they change, but they don’t so much. They just unlock doors inside them that were always there.”

I laughed, then realized he wasn’t joking. “That’s deep.”

“Yeah, well. That’s me.” He scanned me up and down. “But it’s a theory I came up with when I was living in California. It helped me understand some stuff. The you right now? That’s the only you who’s ever been.”

I fought the sting in my eyes, even though Max seemed like the kind of guy you could cry in front of. He might even be disappointed if you didn’t.

He closed the door for me after I got in and held up his hand in a wave.

I’d spent the last few weeks so focused on Camden and then on Eliza, but right there I realized Max had his own quiet awesomeness.

I really was falling for them all.

12

On our planned
fair night, I watched through the front window as Kendall’s car pulled into the driveway. My heart wobbling, nervous as all hell.

“She’s here,” I said to Richard, and picked up my backpack. The parent-approved plan was that I’d go to the fair with Kendall and some of her friends, then sleep over at her house. That was all a version of the truth.

Danielle rushed down the hall and threw her arms around me as I opened the door. “You’ll bring me back something from the fair, right?”

“You’re going tomorrow with the day camp,” I reminded her. “But nice try.”

“You’ll call when you’re at Kendall’s?” Richard asked as he stepped up behind Dani.

“Yes, yes. Don’t I always do what I say I’m going to do? Sheesh. See you guys tomorrow.”

I blew Dani a kiss and slipped out, closed the door tight. Rushed toward Kendall’s passenger side.

“Clean getaway?” she asked.

“Squeaky.”

I was surprised to see Max and James in the backseat as Kendall pulled away from my house. Away, away. Toward everything else.

“Hey,” I said to the guys.

“Eliza and Camden had some last-minute costume snafus,” explained Max, “so they’re taking my car and meeting us there. But your stuff and my stuff is in the trunk.”

“When you say it like that, it sounds so shady.”

“Fun, right?”

James cradled his camera bag on his lap like it was a cat. He was even petting it a little.

“Did your camera meet Kendall’s camera?” I asked him.

He laughed. “Yup. They’re warming up to each other.”

Kendall met Jamie’s eyes in the rearview mirror. God, I was so grateful she was here.

After we parked at the fairgrounds and Kendall popped the trunk, Max went to the back of the car and took out the garment bags, then handed me mine. A steady stream of people were filing past the car, and this didn’t feel as safe and
reassuring as Camden’s bathroom. I froze, trying to figure out how I was going to do it. If I was going to do it.

“Come over here,” said Kendall, pulling me by the hem of my shirt to the Christ the King Church van parked head-to-head with us. There was an RV parked next to it, and that created a tall alley in between. The closest thing to privacy I was going to find.

Kendall helped me put on Satina’s uniform, then the wig. We checked it in the gigantic side view mirror of the RV.

“I thought you thought this was silly,” I said to her in the reflection, where she was still Kendall and I was definitely not still Ari.

Kendall paused, and one side of her mouth really wanted to smile. “I’m on the fence,” she said.

Someone knocked on the side of the RV. Max, in all his Bram glory except for the silver wig, which he held in his hand. He looked perfect.

“Let’s do this,” said Max.

Those first rickety steps away from the cars felt like I was trying out stiff new skin. As we joined the flow of people walking toward the fairground gates, we passed a group of kids from my French class who didn’t even recognize me. Maybe this would be all right.