Or a finger.
I don’t miss her that much at all.
The line creeps forward and we finally do manage to forget about Blair and Scott again, and talk about the show. We rank our top five episodes across the three seasons that have aired so far. Siggy practically dances in place when she talks about the new characters, Hugh and Shella, played by Linus Sheppard and Annie Blaze and who Siggy ships like FedEx. They were added to the last three episodes of season three, and a huge fan campaign has sprung up during the hiatus to demand more storylines for them.
Before I know it, we’ve reached the front of the line.
I thought long and hard about what I wanted to get the actors to sign, and who I would pay for an autograph. To be honest, most of the money I saved over the summer went to the ticket and the photo op. But I have a bit extra and I can pick and choose who I want. I just can’t also afford to buy their headshots.
So I got all my fan magazines, some archive glue, and one of those little photo scrapbooks from the hobby store, and I made a collage page for each actor I know I want to get. And I left blank pages next to each one, so they can sign there, and it’ll be perfect.
“We’re next,” Siggy says.
Imani and I let out muffled shrieks.
Imani buys a black-and-white headshot of James Cooper, and so does Siggy. I get out my autograph book, and we wait patiently as the lady in front of us gets an autograph, gets a hug, and gives him a stream of things she’s brought in gift bags, and gets another hug.
When she’s finally done, she turns and pumps both arms in the air, like she’s just finished a marathon.
Then it’s Imani’s turn, and without thinking, we all kind of press forward together.
Also Imani is squeezing my hand so tight I think she’s forgotten she’s doing it, so she just tugs me along with her.
James smiles, and omigod.
He is really, really hot for a dad-aged guy.
“You all are all together, huh?” His voice is rough like an old quilt, okay, or something like that. A warm burr-type noise. Scratchy but warm. Like a thistle in a patch of sunny grass. I’m thinking about it too much.
“Yes,” Imani says.
Siggy nods. “We’re best friends.”
I smile. I feel like my face is all teeth, weird, dry teeth.
“Okay, well, hi,” James says.
“Good morning,” Imani says.
“Hey,” Siggy says.
“I love you,” I blurt out. Blood rushes into my cheeks.
I want to sink into the floor.
“Thank you, I love you, too,” James says, easily, fluently, because he does love his fans, anyone can see it. And he unleashes that brilliant smile at us again. Then he’s reaching out over the table, and Imani automatically sticks out her hand like she’s going to shake his, like this is some kind of receiving line at a wedding, or like she’s going up for a job, and he doesn’t see it because he’s already leaning over the table and he gives her a hug.
It mostly doesn’t look awkward, even though one of her arms is basically trapped against her chest and the other is patting the side of his ribs.
James leans back and asks Imani if she wants him to inscribe her picture, which is definitely not something he does for everyone—and she says yes and spells her name. He chats with her as he signs and then hands the photo back to her.
Then he turns to Siggy, who lets out this high-pitched giggle the minute he leans over the table to hug her.
Siggy octopus-wraps her arms across his broad shoulders and presses her nose into the collar of his shirt.
Then he has let go and she’s talking to him as he’s signing, but I can’t hear what she’s saying because all I can hear is my own hyperventilations and my heartbeat.
Then it’s my turn. Imani