Famous in a Small Town(34)

“Hello?”

A pause. I touched my fingers to my lips.

“Yeah, okay … Yes … I don’t know, what time is it? … Okay. Yeah, soon …” His eyes widened suddenly. “No, no, no. Here, talk to Sophie—” He flung the phone at me.

I managed to grab it and sat up too. “Hello?”

“Sophie?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know you guys were together.”

Something in my chest seized. “We’re not. We’re just friends.”

A pause. “I meant, like, hanging out right now.”

“Oh. Oh yeah.”

“Well, anyway, Cady wanted to talk to August but I guess he’s busy?”

August had gotten up from the blanket and walked away, stopping a few yards off with his back to me. The way his shirt hugged his shoulders was … not terrible.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Okay, well, let him know she expects him for dinner. It’s pizza night. Last time he did this thing where he ordered in a funny voice? She thinks it’s, like, the absolute height of prank comedy.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“Hey, and while you’re here, can you do Tuesday at five instead of six?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Soph!” She hung up.

I set the phone aside. August turned back, his face chagrined.

“What was that?” I said as he approached the blanket again. He flopped back down but facing me now, leaning back on his hands.

“I couldn’t talk to Cady! After we were just … when we were all … worked up.”

“Worked up? You were worked up?”

“Actually, no. Never mind. I felt nothing.”

I grinned.

He grinned back. “So. Did we do Megan Pleasant justice?”

My smile dimmed a little. It was over. We weren’t going to go back to making out. This exercise, this adventure, whatever it was, was finished.

I nodded. “Yeah. She’d be super proud.”

“Good.” He bobbed his head. “Good, yeah.”

“What do you think, having done the whole thing now?”

“I think I have a new appreciation for it?” He wrinkled his nose. “Or at least for Acadia.”

“So you love it now?”

“Maybe not full-on love. Maybe just like L-O.”

“You’re halfway there,” I said.

So was I.





twenty-two


Flora brought home food from work that night, and we sat outside at the patio table in her backyard to eat. She still had on her uniform, and smelled like french fry grease, but she chatted easily anyway, like she hadn’t just been standing for eight hours, like she wasn’t exhausted from dealing with free refills and mixed-up orders and the general public. Further validating Brit’s argument that Flora might just operate on an elevated plane of existence.

I knew she got cranky sometimes, like anyone else. She missed her dad when he was away. She’d get annoyed with Brit over little things. But she was one of those people, my mom would say, who have a light inside of them that you can’t help but be drawn to. The kind of person who makes other people feel warm. When Flora looked at you, you felt like she saw the best version of you. Or at least, she made you want to be that version.

Tonight, she said “firefly” whenever we saw one, which was pretty often on a summer evening. We had been talking a bit about something on TV last night (“I don’t think he’ll survive elimination, but if he did—firefly—I wouldn’t be mad”) until Flora said, “Let’s make-believe.”

I stared up at the sky. Make-believe was Flora’s favorite—it’s when we talked about Other Acadia, and our fabulous lives there.

“You’ve just gotten back from the mall,” I said. Other Acadia had a luxury mall, of course. “You bought a super expensive purse, and you picked up exactly what you wanted for dinner—”

“Chicken nuggets,” she supplied, mouth full.

“Perfect. You’ve picked up the chicken nuggets, you drive home in your fancy car, and eat dinner—”

“Outside, with you.”

“You know, Other Acadia isn’t that different from regular Acadia tonight.”

“We’re next to a pool, though.”

“Cool. Are we wearing caftans?”

“Oh yeah. Designer caftans,” she said, and licked some sauce off her fingers. “What have you been doing all day in Other Acadia?”

“Just hanging out.”

“With August?”

“Sure.” My voice stayed so even, I surprised myself: “Other Acadia August actually likes me back.”

I didn’t shift my gaze away from the treetops, but I didn’t need to. I could feel Flora’s eyes on me.

“Actual Acadia August likes you, though.”

I shook my head. “Not like that. Not like how I do.”

“He does.”

I paused. “How do you know that?”

It wasn’t unthinkable that someone had seen us out in the field today. Maybe Flora knew we kissed. Maybe she thought that was proof enough, but I knew the truth—Brit kissed enough people for me to know that you could do so without it meaning anything. Just because it’s fun, or you’re bored, or you felt like it.