Chapter 2
When Jake and his family were packing up their old house at the beginning of summer, I tried to stay out of their way, I really did.
But one morning there were boxes and suitcases being packed up at my house, too, so I snatched up a roll of brown tape and left for Jake’s. I was smiling when he opened the door, and waved the tape in his face, saying, “Honorary member of the Team Wandsworth house move, reporting for duty!”
Jake took one look at my red-rimmed eyes and pulled me into a hug. When he let me go, it was to grab his shoes from the rack next to the door. He called over his shoulder to his mom that we were going out.
“Won’t you get in trouble? I thought you had to help…”
He shook his head. “Nah, they’ll be fine for a few hours. Come on.”
We ended up walking along the canal for a while. As usual, Jake chatted a mile a minute about anything and everything. I was pretty crap company. I kept fidgeting with the tape, turning it around and around and picking at the end.
Eventually we got to one of the locks, and Jake clambered along the thick wooden beam to sit, his legs dangling. The No Climbing sign glared at me from the opposite side of the bank, but Jake beamed at me, so I followed him.
I’d been harboring a crush on Jake for a little while, but when he put his hand on mine, I couldn’t even think about how this was A Huge Deal and whether I should lean my head on his shoulder or turn in for a kiss. I just gulped down a shaky breath.
“Your dad’s moving out, then?” he said.
“Yeah. I know I’ve been saying I wish they’d just get on with it, and I can’t wait to have some peace and quiet once they’re not living in the same house and constantly arguing, but…I don’t know, it’s just weird.”
“Weird doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
“I know. I know, but…” Tears started welling up, and I didn’t have it in me to blink them away.
Jake patted his pockets for tissues he definitely didn’t have, then scooted closer and tucked me into his side instead.
“Everything’s changing, you know? Dad’s moving out, we’re heading into sixth form, you’re leaving—”
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere, Cer. Well—all right, technically I’m going somewhere, but that doesn’t change anything. Not between us! We’re still best friends, aren’t we? We’ll always have each other. Geography’s got nothing to do with how much I love ya.”
He said it so casually, and it wasn’t like it was the first time either of us had ever said “Love ya!” But it was the first time I realized I wanted it to mean something more. It was the first time I had this pang in my chest like, I want you to be in love with me, though.
Which, obviously, I didn’t say out loud, because I didn’t want to ruin such a nice moment. He was reaffirming how much I meant to him, and I really, really needed to hear that from someone right then.
So we just sat on the canal lock, legs swinging, leaning into each other. We talked about all the things we’d do this summer, when we’d see each other after he moved, what films we’d see in the cinema…
And I thought: This is him. This is the boy I’m going to fall in love with.
—
Faced with Jake and his new best friend in the convention hall, I have two immediate choices.
Run sobbing to the nearest bathroom because I thought it was just going to be the two of us, and my plan to be Jake’s number-one fandom friend and then his girlfriend has been ruined by the fact he’s already found a fandom friend, and end up alienating both of them with my reaction; or
Be super chill and act super nice to Max, thus infiltrating their new friendship so I can swiftly undermine him and remind Jake that I am his best friend, not this interloper he barely knows.
It’s not that difficult to decide.
Which is why I give Max the very best smile I can muster and say, “Wow, great wig! That’s such a cool, um, cosplay.”
A word I know thanks to Jake, and which I can’t believe I’ve actually just had to use in real life. I’m reeling—too busy trying to take it all in to care if they think I’m staring.
Can you blame me, though? This guy is dressed up like—like—well, I don’t know what, because I haven’t actually seen the show, but he’s in armor and a cloak and wearing elf ears.
He doesn’t even have a backpack with him; did he get on the bus looking like this?
Actually go out in public and leave the house wearing that stuff?
I genuinely can’t fathom it. The mental image is so outlandish to me, it’s pure static in my brain. And, oh God, is Jake going to start dressing up in cosplay too now? Am I going to have to, if I want to fit in and be part of all this?
The skin on the back of my neck prickles and I’m aware of a pair of eyes boring into me. I find Max looking at me, taking in my sundress and obvious lack of “I’m an Of Wrath and Rune fan!” accessories, and he actually smirks.
Like I’m the one dressed up like an idiot.
“He looks totally badass!” Jake crows, slinging an arm around Max and giving him the same affectionate shake he’s given me a hundred times. I feel a stab of jealousy.
Jake is oblivious.
He runs a hand over one of the pieces of shoulder armor Max is wearing, studying it closely. “Damn, I just cannot get over how awesome these are. You look like a real fighter; it’s so freaking cool. I wish I could pull that off.”
Max’s face relaxes a little as he tosses Jake a smile. “I told you I’d help you with a Daxys cosplay, if you wanted.”
Feeling cut out already, I clear my throat. Jake startles slightly, but his grin is focused full force on me once more within a split second, and it’s so easy to smile back at him.
“Max, this is Cerys, the girl I told you about.”
I balk. Is that it? Five years of being best friends, of sharing in-jokes and cutting class together and swapping homework to help each other out, and the grand sum of my introduction is the girl I told you about?
Unless…unless Jake’s already told him so much about me, I need no introduction?
Maybe he’s gushed about me nonstop to all his new pals and I’m “the girl Jake has a crush on,” or at least “the girl Jake doesn’t realize yet that he has a crush on, but he won’t shut up talking about her and it’s obvious to everyone. ”
Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. It’s got to be.
This is the classic friends-to-lovers story; I know how it goes.
It’s like in The Duff—he’s my Robbie Amell and just needs to see me in a new light, that’s all!
I force myself to relax, to pay attention as Jake carries on talking, now waving a hand in Max’s direction, his arm still slung around his shoulders.
“Cerys—this is Max. He’s at my new school. Remember, I’ve told you about that guy in my physics class, I met him at soccer earlier this summer when I switched teams after the move? This is him! And get this—he’s a huge OWAR fan, too! Talk about serendipity, huh?”
“Really?” I say dryly, and let my eyes skirt over the cosplay again. I can’t help it. Even his pants aren’t, like, just normal pants. Where do boys even get leather pants? “I’d never have guessed.”
“And you’re the newbie,” Max says. His voice is lower than I was expecting. Slower. He sounds bored, which is a very nice way to treat his new friend’s best friend. He clearly did not choose to take the high road, like I have. What an ass.
But if this is the kind of guy Jake wants to be friends with—if this is what he bonds with people over, the sort of thing he loves…it just drives home the genius of my plan: get into the fandom to spend time with him.
I’m not about to let Max steal my friend. I’m not going to be usurped by some guy who wears arm guards and a blond wig out in public. Especially not one who has the audacity to somehow still be smirking at me. Is he trying to go for the world record, or am I that much of a joke to him?
I must be staring (glaring) at him too much, because he adds, “So Jake was telling me you’re pretty new to the fandom?”
If that’s his attempt at an olive branch, it’s a fail. He only succeeds in sounding snarky.
I need to get ahold of myself. I can’t stoop to this guy’s level and be as judgmental as him.
I need to prove myself to Jake, not risk this distance between us widening more than it already has.
I paste on a smile, shrug my shoulders back, and shift my weight to one hip in a more visibly relaxed posture—pointedly mirroring Jake’s body language.
“Yes. Yeah! Well, sort of. I’ve heard plenty about OWAR from this guy here.” I giggle, giving Jake a playful shove. See, look at me, using the lingo, calling it “OWAR”! Jake laughs, too, and winks at me. My stomach flutters with butterflies.
“I’ve been trying to get Cer into it for ages, man—and she finally caved! Couldn’t resist the ol’ Jake Wandsworth charm, huh?”
“Oh, don’t you know it.” I give him another little push, right on the bicep.
Between that and the eye contact, it’s a total Moment.
Then, to really drive home my commitment to this thing (and to Jake), I tell Max, “I don’t know why I put it off so long, it looks so interesting.
I bought all the books last week. Jake thinks I should start with the show, then read the books, but it’s always better the other way around, right? ”
“Hmm, it depends. The books are pretty dense, especially the first one. Things don’t really get going until book three. I think the show’s probably more accessible if you’re not huge on fantasy…Kind of like with Game of Thrones, you know?”
“Oh, for sure.” I nod, despite the grand sum of my knowledge being that some guy called Ned Stark dies in, like, the first episode, and people really love Pedro Pascal’s character.
I may be way in over my head here.
“Cerys is more of a romance gal. You know, She’s the Man, To All the Boys…I gotta say, she talked me into watching that one, but that series was so good. But yeah, you’re not usually that into fantasy stuff, are you?” Jake adds, turning to me.
O ye of little faith.
“That changes today!”