Page 58 of Fangirl
I roll my eyes, shoving a bite of food into my mouth.
“See?” She gestures dramatically. “You can’t even deny it.”
I swallow, then sigh, pressing my hands together. “Maya. I didnotreject Will Winters because I’m ‘loyal’ to Eli. I rejected him because I have zero interest in being some Hollywood actor’s arm candy.”
Maya hums again, unconvinced.
I glare. “AndbecauseI’m loyal to my hot nerd.”
She gasps, clutching her chest like I just confessed to murder. “You admitted it!”
I groan, dropping my head onto the table as Maya cackles in triumph.
“I’m screwed.”
“Not yet, but if you buy that ticket for LA, you would be. Well and often.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll talk to him tonight. I’ll… I’ll offer to come visit.”
She stops smirking. “You know he’s dying to meet you, too, right? You showed me some of the messages. The boy is smitten.”
I exhale, picking at the edge of my napkin. “I hope so.”
Idohope.
I see hints of it—his messages, the way he makes time for me even when he’s exhausted, the way he never lets a day go by without checking in. But there’s always that sliver of doubt, that whisper in the back of my mind, reminding me that screens make everything easier. That typed words are safe, that real life isreal—and sometimes, real is disappointing.
What if I go all the way to LA, and he looks at medifferently? What if the easy, endless conversation stalls under the weight of reality?
What if I ruin the best thing I’ve had in years by trying to make it somethingmore?
This is not a fan fiction or a romance novel; this is life, and it’s never that easy… never.
Maya watches me, and for once, she doesn’t tease.
“You’re scared,” she says simply.
I let out a breath. “Of course I am.”
She nudges my foot under the table. “You wouldn’t be if it didn't matter so much.”
I stare at my plate, tracing the condensation on my water glass. “He does mean something to me. I just don’t know if I mean something to him in the same way.”
Maya doesn’t argue, doesn’t try to force an answer. Instead, she just tilts her head. “Then maybe it’s time to find out.”
I swallow. Hard.
“I’ll talk to him tonight,” I say.
Maya softens, her teasing tone fading into something gentle. “Good.” Then, after a beat, her smirk returns. “Because if you don’t, Iwillbuy your ticket myself, force you onto that plane, and send you off with a ‘go get railed, nerd lover’ banner.”
I groan, launching a napkin at her head. “Youhaveto stop.”
She just laughs, dodging it with the reflexes of a gremlin who thrives on chaos.
And as much as I roll my eyes, as much as I pretend to be exasperated… I love her for it.
For being my personal cheerleader. For believing in this—believing in me, even when I can’t always believe in myself.
