know,” he says. “It’s hard to admit fandom when the creator turns out to be trash. Miriam would be so pissed.”
I blink. “You knew my grandmother?”
It’s shocking, hearing her name come out of Nash’s mouth so casually. Kels’s Nash is—was—on a first-name basis with Grams? I swallow the lump in my throat and fight the pressure that builds behind my eyes. How is it possible that she never told me this? Did the last name throw her off too or did she know the whole time? I’ll never get to ask her.
Nash nods. “Yeah. She saw me reading during an oneg one time. I think I was, like, nine. The next week, she gave me an advance copy of the sequel. It was the best day ever.”
Grams knew Nash. “What book?” I ask.
“Ridley Myers Had a Bad Day.”
I nod. “Grams loved working on those. Good choice.”
I’m so desperate to have a normal conversation about Grams, to talk about her, I ignore the fact that talking about books with Nash is not a good idea. Still, I’m grateful when we’re cut off by Molly announcing that karaoke is finally set up. Le Crew surrounds us with plates of food and laughter and Autumn says scooch and plops down between Nash and me. I’m grateful there’s a person separating us and the subject is changing, but then my phone lights up against my thigh.
Nash Stevens
Omg the Alanna drama? Shit is going DOWN.
8:17 PM
I peek out of the corner of my eye to confirm he’s not paying attention before I answer.
yeah. it’s SO bad
8:18 PM
i don’t know what to do
8:18 PM
You don’t have to do anything?
8:19 PM
everyone is waiting for me to say something. Like I’m just supposed to not love F&Y anymore. alanna is SO wrong and her takes are so bad that I want to stick up for my people, but i still think i want to see the movie. does that make me terrible?
8:20 PM
I don’t think you owe anyone an explanation. Plus, the people who are making the movie probably aren’t big fans of Alanna right now either.…
8:22 PM
It’s not their fault or yours that she’s isolating her audience in the name of some backwards idea of Literary Merit, or whatever.
8:23 PM
I frown at my phone, confused because this is so different from Nash’s reaction IRL. To Halle, Alanna is trash and it’s hard to admit fandom. To Kels, he says it’s okay to still love the book. Is it me, Halle, who gets the truth? Is he just telling Kels what he thinks she wants to hear?
do you think so?
8:24 PM
huh, i actually kind of feel better about it all. thanks.
8:25 PM
I’ll see the movie with you.
8:26 PM
Well, not, like, WITH you. Obviously. But we could go opening night and debrief after?
8:27 PM
let’s do it
8:28 PM
We sit like this on Molly’s couch, together as Nash and Halle, but talking as Nash and Kels. And I can’t help but think it’s funny, the way you can be literally so close to someone, but somehow closer with words and social media accounts and pixels in between.
Nash to Kels, at the party
Also quick Halle update: There has been Progress! We had a conversation that didn’t end in awkward silence!
8:45 PM
And honestly, it’s all thanks to the F&Y mess?
8:46 PM
[typing]
8:47 PM
[bubbles disappear]
8:48 PM
NINE
Karaoke is terrible.
By terrible, I mean amazing. One dude, Adam, stages a dramatic reading of “Achy Breaky Heart.” Two girls named Louisa and Rebecca belt an off-key rendition of “Don’t Stop Believin’.” Turns out, being surrounded by so many strangers isn’t as anxiety-provoking once everyone starts singing off-key.
I’m hanging by the air hockey table with Autumn and Nash, away from the main karaoke action. Molly appears in the space between us, her previously perfect curls loosened to soft waves in the humidity of the crowded basement.
“It’s so great you’re here,” she says to me.
“She knows about the bet,” Autumn says.
“Autumn.” Molly’s eyebrows pinch with concern when she turns to face me. “I really thought you wouldn’t come. But that doesn’t mean I’m not glad you’re here.”
“It’s fine,” I say, looking down.
“No, but seriously,” Molly says. “You know we want you around, right? Sometimes I think you don’t know that.”
When it comes to my anxious brain, it’s less about knowing and more about believing.
“I’m not Le Crew,” I say.
“You’re not,” Autumn says. “You could be, though.”
It’s surprising, the words coming from Autumn. There have never been any one-on-one opportunities to get to know her—I don’t work with her and she’s not