Ship It(69)

Caty stands up. “Whatever happens with Jamie, keep in touch, okay? Now, give me a hug,” she says, stretching her arms wide, not caring at all that there are other people in the restaurant staring at her, at us. I shimmy out of my seat and slide into her arms, pressing my face into the soft fuzz of her vest. “You’re gonna be okay, Claire Strupke,” she whispers into my hair.

I’m not convinced that’s true.

But I’ll take it.


My mom texts me as I’m trying room handles on the third floor, looking for one that opens. The convention is only on the first two floors, so I was hoping to find a quiet private space up here, preferably with AV capabilities, where I can confront Jamie.

I try another door—locked—before I swipe open my phone to read her text: Hi honey Bun I wnt 2 show u what I’ve been doing Rm203love Mom.

I sigh. No matter how many times I try to show her how to use punctuation, she refuses. Her texts are a mess. I check the time, and I still have a couple hours before the finale tonight, so I decide I can take a detour to the second floor. I have been wondering what the hell Mom’s been up to this whole time.

Down on floor two, there are more people around, but room 203 is sort of isolated. As I approach, I hear voices, followed by laughter. Peeking around the door, I see like ten nerds around a table full of crafting supplies. PVC pipe, foam, X-Acto knives, tape, scissors. Plus, every surface is covered with little bits of foam, including the floor. It’s a mess.

“Claire!” My mom barrels toward me, crumbs of foam sticking to her with static electricity. The nerds look up from their craft projects to watch with big smiles as Mom wraps me up in a giant hug.

“Mom,” I squeeze out as she lets me go, “what are you doing?”

“We’re making weapons!” she shrieks in delight. “Go on, show her.” The others hold up their projects: a few broadswords, a mace, a couple shields, and a pair of nunchucks. Mom gleams with pride. “We’re larkers,” she announces.

I stare. “You mean…LARPers?”

“Yeah, you know, when you go out into the woods and have pretend fights.”

“I know what LARPing is.” I just would have never guessed that she did.

“I want to start a group in Pine Bluff. Do you think your father will join?”

“Mom…this is what you’ve been doing this whole time?”

“Yeah! I’ve found a way to help out here! I met Winston in Portland.” A guy in a Utilikilt at the end of the table waves at me. “He was leading this workshop in weapon construction, and I had a few ideas for him about structural integrity….”

“Your mother is very knowledgeable about this stuff,” Winston says with a British accent. This is all so weird.

“And I just started sharing my ideas! You know, finally putting that MFA in sculpture and creative design to work!”

“Great,” I say. I’m covered in foam from hugging her, and I start to pick the pieces off. “I’m really happy for you. This is not weird at all.”

“What are you up to?” she asks.

“Well, I need a room for something, and it has to be private. Something like this one,” I say, flicking a foam piece onto the floor with the others, “but not a mess.”

“What do you need a room for?” Winston asks.

Do I tell them? Do I tell Mom? I think about how Tess says I’m the most confident person she knows. I’m really not, like really really not. But about this? About SmokeHeart? I’ll stop at nothing.

“I need to find a room to use to lure the showrunner of my favorite TV show in order to convince him to make his characters gay,” I say. “And I need AV, too.”

There’s a beat of silence before my mom says, “If it’s important to you, I’m in.”

A weight lifts. Winston waggles a key card in the air. “Will this help, love? Should open just about any conference room in this wing.”

I grin. “Um…yeah.”

Winston, Mom, and I pop upstairs to the third floor to try his key card in various conference room doors and assess the rooms. As we search for a room, I tell them everything. I tell them about the plan and the video and Jamie, leaving out the parts about Tess. Winston doesn’t know what shipping is, but once I tell him, he gets on board pretty quickly, and once I’m done explaining, he’s actually excited for me.

My mom gives me a hug and says she’s so proud of me and hopes that my plan works, but even if it doesn’t, the most important thing is I tried.

“Good luck,” she says, just as Winston shouts from down the hall that he’s found the perfect room, and it has a projector and everything.

And on top of that, Ballroom 6E is pretty darn big. Holy moly, I’m about to make a splash.


IT ONLY TAKES a single Google search for “heart of lightness Dairy Queen” to find the fic the girls back in the DQ were giggling about. First hit, a fanfiction called “Sugar and Cream” written two days ago. That means it was written after Claire met me.

I steel myself for whatever it is.

And I click on it.


FOREST’S FEET ACHED after another long night of shooting outside in the woods—always night shoots in the woods on this damn show.


WAIT—

Fuck. She’s writing about me, now?