Chapter Twenty-Four
Saturday I’m scheduled to work a shift at the Glen Vale High food stand at our county fair. The fair is a big deal around here, and we make most of the money we need for the rest of the year from the proceeds, so shifts are pretty nonnegotiable.
Despite the fact that it’s late September, it feels like July.
It’s in the mid-eighties and sunny, and no place in the fairgrounds has air-conditioning.
When I arrive, I’m happy to see that Max is also working the same shift as me and Nova.
She and I are given positions as servers, so it’s our job to pick up orders at the back counter and then take them out to the tables.
It’s not a hard job, and people are always happy to get their food, but I’m sweating within minutes.
I shouldn’t complain, though, since it’s nothing compared with Max’s job.
“Ahh!” he cries, not for the first time. I lean over the counter toward the back kitchen.
“How are you holding up in there?” I call to him through the little window that separates the serving station from the cooks.
“What is wrong with this doughnut baller! Every time I make a new batch, I end up burning myself!”
“At least they taste good?”
“That’s probably because each order comes with a small shard of my soul,” he mutters. “And my skin.”
All the seniors know to stay away from the doughnut baller.
It’s a countertop deep fryer that makes mini doughnuts very quickly, but it’s tricky to use without a lot of experience.
Usually a parent will unwittingly volunteer, but none of the adults argued when Max asked to do it.
Plus, all the cooks with hair more than a few inches long have to wear a hairnet for food safety.
Since Max’s hair is long enough to cover his eyes, he got that supercool accessory as well.
I’ve already taken a dozen pictures of him on my phone—secretly, of course.
We’re friends, but it never hurts to have blackmail material just in case.
“Three more orders, Max!” calls Nova’s dad from the cash register with a smile that’s a bit too big.
Usually my parents try to sign up for the same shift as me, but this year they’re caught up with 4-H, which is an organization that helps kids connect with the community and learn practical skills.
I did it when I was younger, and now Kelsey is involved, which means that—of course—Mom volunteered to be the adviser for her local 4-H club.
It keeps her busy all year, but during fair time it might as well be another full-time job.
Both of my parents are practically living at the fairgrounds—which isn’t unheard of if you’re showing farm animals—and I have no idea how they’re doing it all.
Luckily, they haven’t roped me into any extra activities for the afternoon.
Nova comes up next to me. “Still struggling?” she asks with a nod toward Max.
“He’s not very happy.” There’s another yelp before I can say more.
She chuckles. “You didn’t think to warn him?”
“And take away his bragging rights? Now no one can say he isn’t part of Glen Vale.”
When we’re released at the end of our (very long) three-hour shift, we walk out onto one of the main thoroughfares lined with carnival games and food stands and pull off the Glen Vale Knights shirts we’re required to wear over our clothes. Max rips off his hairnet with pure glee.
“How do I look?” he asks me with a serious expression and shakes out his hair. I want to tease him, but the reality is that he looks so hot right now it’s hard to pull my eyes from him.
“Stop fishing for compliments,” Nova tells him. “Everyone knows you’ve got great hair.”
“I’ll stop fishing when you stop giving.” He runs his hand through it like he’s a model. “And people say you’re rough around the edges.”
I shake my head in warning. “Don’t make her mad.”
“I’ll sic Zelda on Axolotl tomorrow if you aren’t careful,” Nova says.
Max laughs. “I’m gonna be honest with you, I’m not too intimidated by Zelda. Or Zoinks. The worst I’m likely to get is dog saliva on my face.”
“We’ll see what the dice say,” she retorts without heat. “Should we walk around?”
I’m happily surprised that Nova’s including Max.
She and I have been to the county fair every year since we met, and over the years, we’ve perfected our routine, including stops for lemon shake-ups (the ratio of lemon to sugar needs to be just right), the perfect fries (thin, greasy, and covered in salt), and our favorite sandwiches (Italian sausage and peppers from the stall at the entrance to the Dairy building).
“Yes! I could use a lemon shake-up first. Do we want to—” I break off when I see Li in the distance.
She’s all alone and walking in the direction of the education and art barns.
I still haven’t had that conversation with her.
There never seems to be a good time for it…
which is why I keep putting it off. If I don’t talk to her today, then we’ll be back in the same position at the D&D game tomorrow.
I bite my lip and glance at Max. He nods subtly.
“Actually, I just saw Li and I’ve been meaning to chat with her about the game.” I turn to Nova. “I think she’s upset that I haven’t included her backstory more.”
“I’m not sure she’s capable of being mad at you. You’re clearly her idol. But Max and I can hold our own, right?”
Max bobs his head. “Do you like corn dogs? I saw a vendor selling them down by the grandstand.”
“I do not. But I like fries, and the best ones are in the same direction.”
They nod in unison and I glance between them. Are Nova and Max actually friends? The idea is both weird and endearing.
“You’re going to lose her if you don’t go now. We’ll find you later.” Nova shoos me away and I jog in Li’s direction with a backward wave to them.
“Li?” I call when I get closer.
She spins around at her name, but I catch the moment of hesitation when she sees that it’s me who’s calling to her.
“Hey,” I continue. “Do you have a second to talk? That is, if I’m not interrupting your plans?”
“I’m just wandering around until my shift,” she says. “What’s up?”
We fall into step with each other, though we occasionally need to dodge strollers and wild bands of middle schoolers running past us as we walk.
I think I see Felix ahead of us in the distance, and I’m tempted to call him over just to put off having this conversation for a little longer, but I know I have to stop doing that.
“I was hoping to chat about D&D before the game tomorrow.”
Her face falls. “Oh, okay.”
It hurts me to see how disheartened she looks at the mere mention of the game.
“I want to apologize,” I say. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad Dungeon Master, and I understand if you don’t want to play anymore, but I hope you’ll stick with us and give me another shot.”
She glances at me with a furrowed brow. “You’re not kicking me out of the group?”
“What?”
I’m so surprised that I stop walking and someone immediately bumps into me from behind. We need to get someplace calmer, so I steer her into the dim quiet of the 4-H barn and then face her.
“Of course I’m not. Why would you think that?”
She sighs. “I could tell you were annoyed with the backstory Felix and I gave you for our characters. Clearly we went in the wrong direction with it. And I’ve been thinking you’d probably have more fun with people who are more experienced or are at least the same age as you.”
“Omigod, no!” I shake my head adamantly.
“You didn’t go in the wrong direction with anything.
You can’t go in the wrong direction—those are your characters.
You can do whatever you want with them.” She starts to argue, but I keep going.
“Listen, we’re all new to this, especially me.
I promise I’ll make sure to have you and Felix feel more included. ”
“Really? Because I don’t want to stop playing with you all. I really love it.” She looks like she’s about to cry, and it’s breaking my heart, so I pull her into a hug.
“I promise, you’re not going anywhere. So, we’re good?”
She gives me a joyful, but watery, smile. “Yes, definitely.”
“Oh, thank god.” I breathe out a sigh of relief, although it’s occurring to me that Max is totally going to gloat when he hears his advice was helpful. “Now that I know we’re good, I need to clear the air with Felix too. I just saw him a few minutes ago. Do you want to help me search?”
“Right now?” Her voice raises an octave. “You saw him?”
“Um, yeah.” I lift my brows. “Is everything okay with you two? He hasn’t been rude, right? Because I won’t stand for that.”
“It’s…um…maybe the opposite?” She adjusts her glasses.
“We were chatting yesterday at the away game, and then all of a sudden he squeezed my hand in this way that made it feel like something could possibly be going on between us—although that’s probably all in my head—but the thing is that maybe I’m starting to kind of have feelings for him, and now everything feels so weird and—”
“Li.” She’s speaking so quickly I can barely understand her. “Take a breath. You don’t have to search for him with me if you don’t want to.”
“Thank you. I know I’m being delusional. He’s a sophomore and so cute and popular—there’s no way.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too widely.
Felix is a nice guy as far as I can tell, but the way she’s talking about him isn’t exactly based in reality.
Max invited him to play with us because he was having a hard time making friends with the rest of the band.
As far as I’m concerned, he’s lucky to be friends with Li, let alone anything else.
“I won’t claim to know what’s going on in Felix’s brain, but it seems like you both have some things in common. Maybe you should try spending more time with him?”