Page 103 of What I Like About You

“I keep my double pinky swears,” Molly says. “Autumn and Iwere obsessed withFireflies and Youwhen it first came out.”

“Obsessedis a strong word,” Autumn says.

“Obsessed,” Molly reiterates. “It’s kind of the reason we’re best friends.”

“I’d prefer not to give Alanna LaForest credit for our friendship, k thanks.” Autumn shivers. “She doesn’t even want us here. Every opportunity she has, she says that her books aren’t for us—that this movie shouldn’t be for us.”

“Can’t you just, like, separate the art from the artist?” Molly asks. “And remember the good times? This means something to me.”

“Me too,” I whisper.

Autumn looks at me and her expression softens, then she turns back to Molly. “Halle gets a Grief Pass. You don’t. Alanna acts like her teen fans are less than. Look around. Look who’s here and who she’s profiting from. Doesn’t that piss you off?”

“Yet here we are,” Sawyer says, as the line inches forward.

“It sucks,” Nash says.

“Tell that to your girlfriend,” Autumn says.

Nash takes a step backward as if the wind has been knocked out of him.

I bury my face in my scarf.

“Autumn,” Molly says, her voice low.

Autumn crosses her arms over her chest. “What? Kels has a platform to call out Alanna, but instead chooses to post Twitter chats andfifteen feelings about fireflies and you, in memes, or whatever. I don’t know if she’s afraid to speak out because Alanna’sfandom is ruthless—or if she’s still very much a part of the ruthless fandom and doesn’t want to alienate the critics. Either way, she’s playing both sides like we’re too stupid to notice.”

Oh my God—Autumn reads OTP?

Nash opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “Maybe Kels doesn’t know what to say.”

I don’t.

“That’s not an excuse,” Autumn says. “Kels’s silence? It’ssoloud. She’s a total coward, Nash! Like, she can’tnothave an opinion.”

“Autumn.” Molly’s voice lowers. “I think we can all agree that Alanna is gross. But she’s not even affiliated with the movie so—”

“So what?” Autumn cuts Molly off. “You know what? I’m not giving my money to this movie, to her, especially not when there’s a new Barry Jenkins film that deserves support playing across town.” She picks her backpack filled with contraband snacks off the ground, tosses it over her shoulder, and marches toward the parking lot.

Molly chases Autumn and Sawyer follows Molly and somehow, only Nash and I are left in line.

“I get why you want to see this movie,” Nash says. “I do too.”

Do I want to see this movie? For the first time, I let myself think about this—what I think, without all the contributing factors and interests. Even without Grams.

Do I want to see it?

Not really. It hits me all once. Alanna has had every opportunity to apologize to the teens she has hurt. She has not. Alannabrushed off my cupcakes in an interview like it didn’t matter. I didn’t let it hurt until Autumn called out a truth that’s so painfully obvious, even Grams would agree. This is just wrong. This whole time I let myself be caught in the middle, believing I didn’t have a choice. But I can loveFireflies and Youas Halle and criticize Alanna as Kels. That’s supposed to be the whole point of Kels! Clearly, Halle has influenced One True Pastry just as much Kels has complicated my real life.

We’re not the same—but maybe we’re not as distinct as I’ve always believed.

So it’s clear to me now that Kels would never see this movie.

And as for me, I can love the book that Grams helped create, but that also doesn’t meanIhave to see the movie either.

“Autumn is right,” I say. “If Alanna doesn’t think her teen audience is valid, why are we throwing the little money we, as teens, actually have at her?”

“I guess I don’t think about it like that,” Nash says. “I think I loved the book, the creative team behind the movie is awesome, and I want to support them—not Alanna.”

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