Girls Save the World in This One - Ash Parsons Page 0,25
and Siggy are standing just a few steps past the center of the table, waiting for me without going down the steps.
“Hello,” James says, smiling at me.
“Hi there, hello, howyadoin, hey,” I reply, and want to clap my hand over my mouth.
Not. What. I. Practiced.
He leans forward and I lean forward and the table is between us but we’re still hugging and really, it’s perfect, it’s the perfect scenario. Have I ever hugged before? Has a hug ever felt so warm? So personal? Even with the rounded edge of a table pressing into my thighs?
Get a grip, June.
I’ve let go before I realize I forgot to notice what he smells like, but everything’s moving too fast, so I look down and he’s signing my autograph book, across from the page with the collage of his character, and he’s flipping through my book, smiling at the actors and actresses I’ve made pages for, I guess, ’cause he laughs and the next moment he turns and says something to one of his assistants, and the guy nods and starts messing with the tables.
“You and your friends want a picture?” James says, and I swear to God he holds out a hand at me, like a prince inviting me onto the ballroom floor, or like a hero saying come with me if—
“I want to live!” I say.
Oh. My. God.
James doesn’t bat an eye, that I can see, I mean, I’m sort of understanding those sunglasses now. He just gestures to the gap in the tables that the assistant made by pulling one back.
Imani lets out a cheer and hands over her phone to the assistant. Siggy makes a noise like a hiccup crossed with a sneeze, like Pikachu, and I thankfully don’t know what noise I make as James Cooper drapes one arm around Siggy and me and places his other around Imani and we all smile for the photo.
Then we’re saying thank you, I tell him I love him again, and before we’re even down the steps we’re yelling and looking at the picture.
I’m doing the chin thing but at least my eyes are open.
Imani sends us the picture and we all post it, and basically write a hymn of adoration on the spot for James Cooper, how nice he was, how lovely, how very sexy, and how we always liked him, didn’t we? But we didn’t KNOW before but now we KNOW and so we are going to need to rewatch some of his best episodes this week, right?
As we talk, we’re walking to the next stop on the itinerary, the main antagonist’s autograph line, but when we get there, Cuellar’s line is already too long for me. Especially if I’m going to get another autograph I really want and have a chance to look at some of the merchandise.
Besides, he’s no James Cooper.
Siggy and Imani agree. If they didn’t I would wait with them, but we’re all a bit too hyped to stand in another line anyway. We start walking through the rows, zigzagging our way to Autograph Alley, stopping to look at all the amazing stuff on sale as we go.
Siggy buys a Nordic-looking tarot card deck. Imani buys a Human Wasteland official T-shirt and an ornate crown for Tishala’s next photo shoot. I buy a necklace with a teeny bell jar suspended from it. Inside is a miniature scene of a tombstone, grass, tree, flowers, a bench, and a crow sitting on the bench.
The exhibit hall is getting more and more crowded; you can feel a surge of excitement, moving in the air above us like heat lightning.
At the bottom of one of the rows, a girl is sitting on the ground like she collapsed there, a spill of bags and posters strewn around her. A small crowd has gathered to watch or help, offering water, a hand up, a tissue for her very, very bloody nose.
“I’m fine,” the girl says, voice muffled from behind the Kleenex. “I just got a little light-headed.”
A ZombieCon! employee arrives with a paramedic. They crouch next to the girl.