Fangirl

circles on her shoulder with his thumb.
    “You know,” he said, “I keep wanting to say that it’s like Simon Snow threw up in here … but it’s more like someone else ate Simon Snow—like somebody went to an all-you-care-to-eat Simon Snow buffet—and then threw up in here.”
    Cath laughed. “I like it.”
    “Never said I didn’t like it.”
    *   *   *
    As long as they were talking, it was easy. And Levi was always talking.
    He told her about 4-H.
    “What do the H ’s stand for?”
    “Head, heart, hands, health. They don’t have 4-H in South Omaha?”
    “They do, but it stands for hard, hip-hop and Homey-don’t-play-that.”
    “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. You missed out on a lot of competitive rabbit breeding.”
    “You raised rabbits?”
    “Prize-winning rabbits,” he said. “And one year, a sow.”
    “It’s like you grew up on a different planet.”
    “Head, heart, hands, health … that’s really nice, don’t you think?”
    “Are there photos of you somewhere with rabbits?”
    “And blue ribbons,” he said.
    “I might have to make a pinhole camera just to look at them.”
    “Are you kidding? I was so cute, you’ll have to wear special glasses. Oh, hey, I just remembered the 4-H pledge—‘I pledge my head to clearer thinking, my heart to greater loyalty, my hands to larger service, and my health to better living, for my club, my community, my country and my world.’”
    Cath closed her eyes. “Where are those glasses?”
    Then he told her about the state fair—more rabbits, more sows, plus a year of serious brownie-making—and he showed her photos of his four blond sisters on his phone.
    Cath couldn’t keep track of their names. They were all from the Bible. “Old Testament,” Levi said. He had one sister Cath’s age and one who was still in high school.
    “Doesn’t this creep you out?”
    “What?”
    “Dating someone as young as your little sister?”
    “Dating my little sister would creep me out—”
    “I’m still a teenager.”
    He shrugged. “You’re legal.”
    She shoved him.
    “Cath, I’m only two and a half years older than you.”
    “College years,” she said. “That’s like a decade.”
    He rolled his eyes.
    “My dad thought you were thirty.”
    He pulled back his chin. “He did not. … Did he really?”
    She giggled. “No.”
    Levi saw that she had Simon Snow Scene It? and insisted that they play. Cath thought she’d cream him, but his memory was insane, and all the questions were about the movies, not the books.
    “Too bad for you that there aren’t any questions about homosexual subtext,” Levi said. “I want you to make me a blue ribbon when I win this.”
    At midnight, Cath started thinking about her dad downstairs and how he should really be getting some sleep.
    “Are you tired?” she asked Levi.
    “Do I get my own tent bed?”
    “It’s called a canopy, and no. You get your own couch. If I tell my dad you’re tired, it’ll force him to stop working.”
    Levi nodded.
    “Do you need pajamas or something?”
    “I can sleep in my clothes. It’s only one night.”
    She found an extra toothbrush for him, dug out a clean sheet, and grabbed one of her pillows.
    When they got downstairs, the papers had multiplied—but her dad gamely cleared off the couch and kissed Cath on the forehead. She made him promise not to keep working in his bedroom—“Don’t make me yell at you in front of company.” Cath made up the couch, and when Levi got out of the bathroom, his face and the front of his hair damp, she handed him the pillow. He set it on the couch and grinned at her.
    “Do you need anything else?” she asked.
    He shook his head. Cath took a step backwards and he caught her hand. She ran her fingers along his palm, pulling away.
    “Good night,” she said.
    “Good night, sweetheart.”
    *   *   *
    Cath woke up at three, her head too clear and her heart beating too fast.
    She tiptoed down the stairs, but she knew they’d still creak.
    She walked through the kitchen, made sure the stove was turned off, that the back door was locked, that everything was okay.…
    Her dad’s door was open; she stood in the doorway until she could hear him breathe. Then she walked as quietly as she could past the couch. The front door was locked. The curtains were drawn. A snowplow was crawling up their street.
    When she turned around, Levi had raised himself up on his elbow and was watching her.
    He’d taken off his sweater