“Eighteen hundred and sixty-five. It’s the single largest employer. Second place is Ballard County government at fourteen hundred ninety.”
“That’s an oddly specific set of facts to have in your head.” Especially given that Andie didn’t work for King’s Creamery or the county government.
Andie grinned. “I have a lot of odd facts in my head.”
“Why is that?” Mia asked, since Andie seemed proud of it.
“I guess because I read a lot and I have a good memory,” Andie shrugged. “I like trivia. I kill at Trivial Pursuit.”
Mia was terrible at trivia because the facts she had were always the wrong facts. She knew this because Paul had once dragged her to a pub trivia night and not a single one of the questions had been about Euclidean geometry but instead had been about football players and the cast of Friends. She assumed she’d be just as bad at Trivial Pursuit, but she’d never played it. Her family hadn’t done board games. Or many of the other traditional activities of childhood, for that matter.
“I never learned to ride a bike,” Mia said.
Andie smiled at her. “You’re a weird duck.”
Mia felt her face redden, although it was already probably red from the heat. “Sorry.”
“No, I like it.” Andie’s expression was open and friendly, and it eased some of Mia’s self-consciousness. “Weird’s a compliment.”
“Is it?” Mia had been called weird a lot, but it had never felt like a positive thing.
“In my book it is. Who wants to be normal? Normal’s boring.”
I do. Mia had spent most of her life wanting to be normal. She worked hard at trying to be more like everyone else. It was one of the reasons she found socializing exhausting. She was constantly studying the people around her and trying to guess what they expected from her.
It was impossible to imagine moving through the world without expending all that effort trying to conform. What else would she be able to do with her extra energy? Publish more often probably. Or even take up a hobby.
“Do you have any hobbies?” she asked Andie.
“Needlepoint.”
“Really?” Mia had expected Andie to say something more rugged and practical, like archery or cabinetmaking. Something that would be useful in a post-apocalyptic world. Andie seemed like she’d be a good person to have around during an apocalypse. “I can start a fire with a magnifying glass,” Mia said. “As long as the sun’s out.”
Andie nodded like this was a totally normal thing to say. “Is that your hobby?”
“No, it’s just something I learned when I was a kid. I don’t have any hobbies.”
“I mostly do subversive embroidery.”
Mia had never heard of this, but she was intrigued. “Subversive how?”
“Rude or snarky phrases surrounded by needlepoint flowers. Like ‘Fuck off and die,’ or ‘Whatever, bitches.’ It helps me channel my anger.”
“That’s kind of…weird,” Mia said cautiously. “But also cool.”
Andie smiled again. “I’m telling you, this town’s full of weirdos. We’ve got a dude who roller-skates up and down Main Street every day in a tie-dyed tank top and super-short jeans shorts singing Dolly Parton songs.”
“I think I’ve seen him,” Mia said, although she hadn’t recognized the song he’d been singing.
“His name’s Pete. He’s really nice.” Andie took a drink of her beer. “And look at my aunt Birdie. She’s always done whatever the fuck she wants. When she was in her twenties, she left a guy at the altar—pulled a literal runaway bride—and spent the whole summer following Lilith Fair around the country. She also chained herself to a tree in someone’s yard a few years ago to keep it from being cut down.” Andie paused to shake her head. “And of course my brother’s a total weirdo.”
Mia didn’t really understand Josh, but she didn’t find him weird. Inscrutable? Definitely. Private? Sure. Weird? Not so much.
“Even people who seem normal on the outside always turn out to be secretly weird when you scratch the surface. My mailman collects vintage Barbie dolls. He’s got like four hundred of them in his house. And that chick in there who sold us our beers? She’s a flat-Earther—do not ask her about it. Even the mayor—she dresses her French bulldogs up in costumes and takes pictures of them re-enacting famous scenes from movies. She’s got a whole Instagram account devoted to it. I’m pretty sure it helped her get elected, actually.”
“That is weird,” Mia agreed.
“My point is,” Andie said, “I think you’re going to fit in just fine here.”