Fangirl

glasses.”
    “Stop,” Reagan groaned, “don’t make me look at you. It’s like The Shining in here.”
    Wren cocked her head and squinted. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious.”
    “It doesn’t matter,” Cath said. “Ignore her.”
    Reagan scowled at Cath. “Are you Zack, or are you Cody?”
    Today they were in Wren’s room, just to give Reagan a break. They were sitting on Wren’s bed, the laptop resting on both their knees. Courtney was there, too, getting ready to go out; she was studying with the Sigma Chis tonight.
    “You can’t kill Baz,” Wren said, pressing the down-arrow key and skimming Cath’s Carry On outline. They kept coming back to this point; Wren was adamant.
    “I never thought I would kill Baz,” Cath said. “Ever. But it’s the ultimate redemption, you know? If he sacrifices himself for Simon, after all their years of fighting, after this one precious year of love … it makes everything they’ve been through together that much sweeter.”
    “I’ll have to kill you if you kill Baz,” Wren said. “And I’ll be first in a long line.”
    “I totally think Basil’s going to die in the last movie,” Courtney said, putting on her jacket. “Simon has to kill him—he’s a vampire.”
    “He’ll have to die in the last book first,” Cath said. She still couldn’t tell whether Courtney was actually stupid or whether she just couldn’t be bothered to think before she talked. Wren shook her head at Cath and rolled her eyes, like, Don’t waste your time with her.
    “Don’t work too hard, ladies,” Courtney said, waving on her way out. Only Cath waved back.
    Something had happened between Wren and Courtney. Cath wasn’t sure if it was the emergency room or something else. They were still friends; they still ate lunch together. But even small things seemed to irritate Wren—the way Courtney wore heels with jeans, or the way she thought “boughten” was the past participle of “bought.” Cath had tried to ask about it, but Wren always shrugged her off.
    “She’s wrong,” Cath said now. “I don’t think GTL could ever kill off Baz.”
    “And you can’t either,” Wren said.
    “But it makes him the ultimate romantic hero. Think of Tony in West Side Story or Jack in Titanic —or Jesus.”
    “That’s horseshit,” Wren said.
    Cath giggled. “ Horse shit?”
    Wren elbowed her. “ Yes. The ultimate act of heroism shouldn’t be death. You’re always saying you want to give Baz the stories he deserves. To rescue him from Gemma—”
    “I just don’t think she realizes his potential as a character,” Cath said.
    “So you’re going to kill him off? Isn’t the best revenge supposed to be a life well-lived? The punk-rock way to end Carry On would be to let Baz and Simon live happily ever after.”
    Cath laughed.
    “I’m serious,” Wren said. “They’ve been through so much together—not just in your story, but in canon and in all the hundreds of fics we’ve read about them.… Think of your readers. Think about how good it’ll feel to leave us with a little hope.”
    “But I don’t want it to be cheesy.”
    “Happily ever after, or even just together ever after, is not cheesy,” Wren said. “It’s the noblest, like, the most courageous thing two people can shoot for.”
    Cath studied Wren’s face. It was like looking at a lightly warped mirror. Through a glass, darkly. “Are you in love?”
    Wren blushed and looked down at the laptop. “This isn’t about me. It’s about Baz and Simon.”
    “I’m making it about you,” Cath said. “Are you in love?”
    Wren pulled the computer fully onto her lap and started scrolling back up to the top of Cath’s outline. “Yes,” she said coolly. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
    “I didn’t say there was.” Cath grinned. “You’re in love. ”
    “Oh shut up, so are you.”
    Cath started to argue.
    “Give it up,” Wren said, pointing at Cath’s face. “I’ve seen you look at Levi. What’s that thing you wrote about Simon once, that his eyes followed Baz ‘like he was the brightest thing in the room, like he cast everything else into shadow’? That’s you. You can’t look away from him.”
    “I…” Cath was pretty sure that Levi actually was the brightest thing in the room, in any room. Bright and warm and crackling—he was a human campfire. “I really like him.”
    “Have you slept with him?”
    “No.” Cath knew what Wren meant, knew she didn’t want to hear