Ship It(9)

Paula looks directly at Jamie, who is scowling. “If you want a second season,” she says, “this is how you do it.”

Jamie looks at us with a resigned sigh. “You guys want to go to some conventions?”

“Hell yes!” Rico says.

“I guess I’m in,” I say with a shrug.

“All right!” Caty pumps her fist.

Paula smiles. “You’re gonna have a great time,” she says to me. “Really. Your first convention isn’t something you forget.”

Rico slaps me on the back. “Let’s go save our show.”


I PICK MY way up our front walk waving my arms in front of me to catch spiderwebs. Our yard is so overgrown that the neighbors have probably considered coming over and trimming everything for us, but I’m sure they were deterred by the numerous large sculptures of naked women on display among the greenery. (Okay, they’re just one woman. My mom. Self-portraits. I try not to think about it.)

As soon as I push open the door, I smell pesto. Oh god, she’s cooking something off the internet again.

“Hey, honey bunny, how was school?” Mom hollers from the kitchen.

“Tremendous.” I drop my bag by the door and head for the stairs.

“Something the matter, kiddo?” Dad asks, rounding the bend to find me. One thing about your parents being artists is they are always home. Which would be fine if they weren’t incredibly interested in my life at all times.

“Everything’s fine, just another day in Pine Bluff,” I say on the way upstairs.

“It’s eggplant pizzas in an hour!” Mom calls after me. Groan. I knew it was something off the internet.

“There better be bread in that,” I say, halfway up.

“No, the eggplant is the bread, isn’t that great?” she hollers.

No. It’s not.

“We’ll talk more at dinner!” Dad says.

God, parents are so annoying with all their caring.

The three Demon Heart posters hanging in my room aren’t quite enough to completely cover the horrible vintage wallpaper my mom plastered up when we moved in, but they don’t make more than three Demon Heart posters at the moment, so until the new season two merchandise comes out, I’ve covered the gaps with some old Citybreakers ads I took from my bookstore, and some Demon Heart fanart I printed out at the school library for five cents a page.

I only feel comfortable at last when I have my perfect screen setup—laptop on my stomach, playing last week’s episode in the background, and my phone in my hand, scrolling through the comments on my most recent fic. Pretty positive responses so far, with comments like YOU DESTROYED MY WHOLE LIFE WHYYYY and I’M DEAD I’VE FALLEN DIRECTLY OUT OF MY CHAIR AND I AM DEAD NOW.

Switching over to my Tumblr dash, I start scrolling when I see…

Holy…

What…

Oh my god.

I sit straight up and my laptop falls off my stomach onto the bed. My hands feel heavy and my vision blurs and I can’t quite read my phone screen anymore and my head is swimming.

Because the cast of Demon Heart—my Demon Heart—is coming to Boise—my Boise.

THIS. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

I didn’t even know I could hope for this. I didn’t even know this was in the realm of things that were possible.

Why the hell are they coming to Boise? Why would anybody come to Boise? Boise is a town you get stuck in, not a town to travel to.

Well, unless you live in Pine Bluff.

I have to see them. Me. With Forest Reed and Rico. And Jamie. My brain short-circuits just even trying to comprehend it, so I have to keep saying it. I’m going to see them. I’m going to share an hour with them. Maybe if I’m lucky, the air vents will be pointed just the right way and I can smell them.

That’s weird, I don’t care that that’s weird. DEMON HEART IS COMING TO IDAHO, I GET TO BE WEIRD IF I WANT.

I take the stairs two at a time and fly into the kitchen.

“Forest Reed, Rico Quiroz, and Jamie Davies are all going to be at Boise Comic-Con! They just announced it!” I am bursting in eleven different directions at once and Mom is taking mini eggplant pizzas out of the oven like this is just a normal Tuesday. Forget the non-pizzas, Mom, SmokeHeart in Idaho! Nothing ever happens in Idaho, much less this. It hits me all over again, and I have to lean against the kitchen counter because I don’t trust my legs to hold me up. My favorite ship, my OTP, my ONE TRUE FREAKING PAIRING, is coming to my home state, just a couple hours from me. It’s too much, it’s too much. My poor heart can’t take it. I am but one mere fangirl, how can I be expected to survive this?

Dad looks at Mom for help. “Who?” he mouths to her, uncovertly.

“Demon Heart. They’re the Demon Heart guys!” I cry, gesturing at my T-shirt.

“That’s exciting!” Mom says, at a fraction of the appropriate excitement level.

“So can I go?” I ask. “I have the money.”

“All the way to Boise?” Dad says, his eyebrows furrowing in worry. I can hear it already, his “my little girl” voice he uses when I want to do something he feels is dangerous.

“I’ve been to Boise by myself before,” I say. There’s a bus that goes there that I’ve taken to go to the mall and do school shopping. I mean, for pete’s sake, we used to live there before we moved to godforsaken Pine Bluff.