no ellipses. I shove my phone in my pocket so I won’t obsess over it.
But then a second later, I pull it out again, and tap into my group text with the guys. Not that there’s any chance Drew and Felipe are going to drop what they’re doing to race to the mall. I should have texted them before I left. But I guess there’s no harm in putting feelers out.
Stuck at Perimeter with Sophie, anyone want to join me?
Just as I’m about to pocket my phone again, Felipe writes back.
Felipe: lol We’re already here! We’re bothering Nolan, he’s working
Jamie: wow, everyone’s hanging out, guess my invitation got lost in the mail
Felipe: Uh hello, what happened to mr sorry I can’t hang I’m canvassing today
Drew: With maaaaya
Felipe:
Drew: sorry not sorry dude
Felipe: Come hang, we’re just @ Disney store
The mall is always super hectic on Saturdays, packed with stroller-pushing parents and clusters of Sophie-clone tweens. When I step through the Mickey-shaped Disney Store entrance, there’s Nolan at the checkout counter, ringing up a set of giant plastic Elsa and Anna dolls for a father and daughter.
Nolan smiles and waves when he sees me. I’ve always liked Nolan, even before he and Felipe started dating. He’s preppy-looking, but not in a frat bro way like that intern from Dickers’s office. Nolan’s really polite too, so parents always love him. Even Drew’s über-Republican parents claim to love Nolan, just like they love Felipe. I can’t ever wrap my head around that. How can you love your son’s gay friends, but dick them over every time you vote?
There’s still a line at Nolan’s counter, so I don’t want to bother him, but he points his chin toward Drew and Felipe at the back of the store. Turns out, they’re camped out near the stuffed animal display, arguing over whether Anastasia counts as a Disney princess.
I jump right in. “She does now! Because of the Disney-Fox merger.”
“Nope. Doesn’t count. Disney princess is like a specific thing.” Felipe cranes his neck, peering over my shoulder. “Hold that thought. I’m gonna go check on Nolan.”
Drew waves him off with a Pumbaa doll’s stiff front leg. Then he turns back to me, shrugging. “So Maya ditched you.”
“For Eid. She has a potluck coming up, so she’s helping her mom cook.”
“Eid’s sort of like Muslim Christmas, right?” Drew asks.
“Does that mean I get to say Easter is like Christian Passover?”
“Okay, wiseass,” Drew says. “I just mean it’s a big deal and you send holiday cards and stuff, right?”
“I guess so? It’s the end of Ramadan.” I make a mental note to google Eid again, even though I might have spent an hour or two falling down that rabbit hole already. Maybe I’m being a little extra, but I don’t really care. All I know is there’s no way I’m making even one more Ramadan-related faux pas.
Drew’s looking at me with this curious half smile. “So, you’re really—”
“Hey, what did I miss?” Felipe asks, suddenly reappearing. “Nolan’s still slammed.”
“Jamie’s just bringing me up to speed on his girlfriend.”
I smack Drew’s arm. “Not my girlfriend, dodo.”
Felipe smiles. “But you’re working on it, right?”
I blush. “We’re just doing campaign stuff together.”
Drew laughs. “Felipe, remember when you and Nolan were ‘just doing a history project together’?”
“I do remember that.” Felipe beams.
“Okay, we’re done here.”
Felipe side-hugs me. “We’re just teasing you. I think it’s cool that you’re doing this stuff for Rossum.”
“Me too.” Drew nods firmly. He pauses, suddenly fixing his gaze somewhere over my shoulder. “Why are those baby princesses staring at me?”
“They know their father,” says Felipe.
“NO,” Drew says, pointing at the dolls. “I disown each and every one of you creepy fuckers.”
My eyes drift back to the stuffed animal display, landing on a big stuffed poodle. It looks so much like Fifi, it makes my stomach twist.
I turn back to Drew and Felipe. “Did I tell you guys someone put a Fifi poodle meme bumper sticker on Alfie?”
Felipe’s face falls. “Really?”
I nod. “Thursday, right when we were coming out of a meeting with Holden’s legislative director. I have no idea who did it.”
“Shit,” says Drew.
“Yeah, it was pretty bad. Hard to get off too.”
“I hear you,” Drew says, making a face. “I had to get all my mom’s Hilton Head stickers off before they sold their car, and it was such a bitch. You know they make stuff for that—you just have to rub it on there—”
“I know. I got some. I took care of it.” My heartbeat quickens. “You know,