Famous in a Small Town(36)

“Rage headache?” Terrance’s voice.

“Brit headache.”

“Same thing.”

Three phones dinged.

I checked mine—a message from Brit.

If he’s in the chat, we can’t talk about your M A J O R B O N E R for him.

“Brit. Come on.”

“Say it in the chat, that’s what it’s there for,” she replied.

I hate you.

OPPOSITES, she replied, followed by a string of hearts.



* * *



We went into the house for snacks later, but Brit and August stayed outside, lingering on the back patio.

I could hear them through the screen door as Terrance poked through the fridge and Dash investigated the cabinets. Terrance and Dash had their own kind of shorthand established: “There should be more—”

“Uh-huh. Do you want—”

“You know it.”

So I was free to listen in on Brit and August.

“You get it about the chat, right?” Brit was saying. They had settled on the steps outside the back door, facing out into the yard. “It’s more than just jokes, you know. It’s like … our friend-group thing. Not that you’re—it’s nothing personal, I’m just saying. We’ve known each other for … our whole lives, basically. Compared to that, you’re a blip. We’ve been friends for long before you got here, and we’ll be friends long after, you know?”

That was harsh as hell, wasn’t it? I wanted to keep August with us, not lose him to some other friend group, to Chelsea and Becca from band or whoever.

I almost pushed through the door until I heard August speak.

“I get it. Just … seemed important to Sophie.”

“Everything’s important to Sophie. She cries when people get voted off reality shows.” She shook her head. “But she would never let you see her crying when someone gets voted off a reality show, because then you might feel sad or uncomfortable, and she doesn’t want anyone to feel anything less than happy all the time. She’s … the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

August paused. “Is that a joke?”

“What about her would make you think that was a joke?”

“Not Sophie, you. You just … usually make jokes.”

“I can take shit seriously,” she said. “I would jump off a bridge if she asked me to. Because I know she wouldn’t ask without a really good reason.”

August was quiet. Where’s the joke? I wondered, because the same could be said for him.

“She’s a thousand times better than both of us,” Brit said. “So just … keep that in mind, okay?”

I didn’t understand Brit. She was the one saying she’d wingman the shit out of this for me. I didn’t get how this fit in.

I pushed through the door.

Brit glanced back at me, then stood. “You guys need snack supervision? I want melted cheese on everything.”

“Better get on that, then,” I said.

So she went back in, and I sat down next to August.

We hadn’t hung out alone together since the last day of “Gave You My Heartland” week. The kiss day.

It was only weird if we made it weird. Right?

I was thinking about what to say to convey that it wasn’t weird when August spoke: “So, uh, I asked Kyle. About Megan. For the whole … investigation thing.”

“Oh.” Megan was, for once, nowhere near the forefront of my mind. “Cool. What’d he say?”

“She was a year behind him in school. He said he knew her a little, but she was out of town a lot when she was on the TV show, and after it ended, she wasn’t around much. I don’t think she actually graduated.”

Her first album came out when she was sixteen. It made sense she wouldn’t have a lot of time for school.

“Does he know anyone who kept in touch with her?”

August shook his head. “No. Sorry.”

“Heather know anything?”

“She said they had gym together, and Megan was, quote, terrible at everything involving balls.”

I let out a breath of laughter. “I’ll make a note of that.”

And just like that, it wasn’t weird.





twenty-four


The Fourth of July parade was one of my favorite things in Acadia.

It always had an abstract theme, like “Let the Good Times Roll” or “A Town of Neighbors and Friends,” that seemed nearly impossible to translate into an actual float. The businesses and churches in town would do their best, decorating pickup trucks or pulling a flatbed covered in crepe paper and poster board, pinwheels and banners.

The scouts decorated their bikes and rode together in a pack. The sports teams from school and the cheerleaders would ride in the back of trucks or walk alongside. The Yum Yum Shoppe would go up and down the street pulling coolers filled with cups of ice cream for sale.

The band marched, of course. It was too hot at midday for full uniforms, so we wore khaki shorts and our blue Marching Pride of Acadia T-shirts. We lined up in the parking lot at school and joined the queue of floats heading to Main Street.

As we marched, I passed my parents seated with Flora’s mom and grandma. A little farther down were the Conlins. Heather had Harper on her lap, and Cadence stood next to August, who was sitting on the curb. Cadence was clutching a bag to collect candy that people threw from the floats.