Ship It(25)

But I’m still touching it. I have the Bowl of Holding in my hands and it’s real and it was in the show and now it’s here. It doesn’t seem possible that this thing that I have seen on my screen a hundred times before could be here in my hands, but it is. And my name was in it.

“Hey, Claire,” a voice says, and I turn to see Jamie Davies coming up to me. I scramble to put the bowl down on the table.

Dear god. This is really happening. The creator of Demon Heart knows my name. I hope he doesn’t say anything about me touching the props. It seemed like it would be okay! I concentrate on not locking my knees so I don’t faint.

“Hi, Mr. Davies,” I say.

“Jamie, please. Jesus, no one calls me Mr. anything,” he says, looking horrified. “I just wanted to say, ah, well, thanks, I guess.”

“Thanks?” I’m not sure what he’s getting at.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s nice to have so much support from LGB…T…Q… A fans,” he says slowly, like he’s trying to remember all the letters in the acronym.

“Oh…” I start. Crap, does he think I’m gay? I don’t know how to correct him. That’s not me, I just happen to think Smokey and Heart are in love. That doesn’t determine my sexuality.

“I love the subtext you guys pick up on in the show,” he says.

“The subtext,” I repeat, frowning, trying to understand.

“Between Smokey and Heart,” he says, rubbing his face with his hand. “I think it’s great.”

“So it’s intentional?” I ask. This feels like a 180 from what Forest said at the panel earlier.

“All we do is make a show,” he says. He flips his hoodie hood up so it covers his shaggy dirty-blond hair. “It’s up to you guys to figure out where we’re headed.” He yanks the strings on his hoodie so it constricts around his face. He looks like Elliott from E.T., but old.

My heart thumps in my chest with what feels unexpectedly like hope. “So, wait. Are you going to make them gay, or not?” I have to know. I can’t keep following this show if they’re just going to toy with my emotions, but it also feels like Jamie might actually get it. Is it possible? Can this bro have really made a show about a gay demon hunter and the demon he loves?

Jamie smiles at me like he knows a secret that I don’t.

“No spoilers,” he says.

Then he winks.

Then he walks away.

And I’m left standing there wondering WTF just happened.

Was that… confirmation? Is he telling me there’s a chance that they could get together? But then, why did Forest act all weird? Maybe it’s the long-term plan and Forest doesn’t know yet? Mulder and Scully didn’t get together until, like, season seven…. Maybe he’s stringing us along with the slow build.

I have no idea. My shipper heart is too weak for this. I need a long nap.

My mom, having signed all the necessary papers, joins me.

“We’re good!” she exclaims, full of positivity for the world and all that it offers. “Ready, honey bunny? We leave in the morning!”

Am I ready?


“That Forest is so cute,” Mom says as we head back to our room. “Forget Obama, I ship myself with him.”

I barely hear her. Tomorrow my dad is dropping off my Social Studies textbook and homework assignments, and clothes for Mom and me for the trip, and then we’re getting on a bus to go on tour with the Demon Heart guys. Me. On tour. With them. There’s a pit in my stomach as I consider that I might have to talk to Forest again.

I follow Mom into our hotel room as I try to ignore the growing knot of anxiety. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Mom asks.

“We’re going on the road to faraway big cities,” I say. “I mean, I could end up doing drugs.”

“The important thing is you have fun.”

“Maybe I’ll have sex. Or get a tattoo. Anything could happen! I could get pregnant!”

“Those all sound like important life benchmarks.”

“I could get a B,” I say, more realistically.

“Your father is going to speak to your teachers and they’ll email you any assignments you don’t already have. Don’t you even worry about that.” At this point, so close to the end of the school year, I would have to actively try in order to get a B in any of my classes, but I don’t say that. I’ll do all my work. I’d hate to miss something interesting.

Mom pats me on the back. “And if you want a tattoo, you know all you have to do is ask. I’d be happy to go with you.” She really is the worst mother sometimes.

“I need a shower,” I say.

I take a long shower and let the tension release from my shoulders. When I get out, I towel off and put my hair up in a second towel, and I put the toilet seat down and I sit in the heat and the steam and the privacy of the bathroom and look at my phone.

It’s been three hours since I won the grand prize, and that photo of me the Blazer Chick took is already up on the official Demon Heart social accounts for Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram, and yes, Tumblr. I might have hoped that no one would put it together that the very lucky girl who won was also minorly famous fanfic author heart-of-lightness, except that my account is tagged in all the posts.