Fangirl

about Levi’s grandmother’s quilt and the way they’d slept curled up in each other, like stackable chairs. “Have you? With Jandro?”
    Wren laughed. “Duh. So … are you going to?”
    Cath rubbed her right wrist. Her typing wrist. “Yeah,” she said. “I think so.”
    Wren grabbed Cath’s arm, then shoved her away. “Oh. My. God. Will you tell me about it when you do?”
    “Duh.” Cath pushed her back. “Anyway, I don’t feel like it has to happen now, like immediately, but he makes me want to. And he makes me think … that it’ll be okay. That I don’t have to worry about screwing it up.”
    Wren rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to screw it up.”
    “Well, I’m not going to nail it either, am I? Remember how long it took me to learn how to drive? And I still can’t backwards skate—”
    “Think of how many beautiful first times you’ve written for Simon and Baz.”
    “That’s totally different,” Cath said dismissively. “They don’t even have the same parts.”
    Wren started giggling and then couldn’t stop. She hugged the laptop to her chest. “You’re more comfortable with their parts than—” She couldn’t stop giggling.”—your own and … and you’ve never even seen their parts.…”
    “I try to write around it.” Cath was giggling, too.
    “I know,” Wren said, “and you do a really good job.”
    When they were done laughing, Wren punched Cath’s arm. “You’ll be fine. The first few times you do it, you only get graded on attendance.”
    “Great,” Cath scoffed. “That makes me feel better.” She shook her head. “This whole conversation is premature.”
    Wren smiled, but she looked serious, like she wanted something. “Hey, Cath—”
    “What now?”
    “Don’t kill Baz. I’ll even beta for you, if you want. Just … don’t kill him. Baz deserves a happy ending more than anybody.”
     
    “Shhh.”
    “I just—”
    “Hush.”
    “I worry—”
    “Don’t.”
    “But—”
    “Simon.”
    “Baz?”
    “Here.”

    —from Carry On, Simon, posted September 2011 by FanFixx.net author Magicath

 
    THIRTY-THREE
    “Have you started?” Professor Piper asked.
    “Yes,” Cath lied.
    She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t say no—Professor Piper was liable to abort this whole endeavor. Cath still hadn’t shown her any progress …
    Because Cath hadn’t made any progress.
    There was just too much else going on. Wren. Levi. Baz. Simon. Her dad … Actually, Cath wasn’t as worried about her dad as she used to be. That was one nice thing about Wren going home every weekend. On the weekends that Wren was stuck at home, she was so bored, she practically live-blogged the whole thing for Cath, sending constant texts and emails. “dad is making me watch a lewis & clark documentary. it’s like he’s DRIVING me to drink.” Wren didn’t even know about Cath’s Fiction-Writing assignment.
    Cath had considered telling Professor Piper—again—that she wasn’t cut out for fiction-writing, that she was practically fiction-phobic. But once Cath was here, looking up at Professor Piper’s hopeful, confident face …
    She could never get it out. She’d rather endure these excruciating checkups than tell the truth—that she only ever thought about her project when she was sitting in this room.
    “That’s wonderful,” the professor said, leaning forward off her desk to pat Cath’s arm, smiling just the way Cath wanted her to. “I’m so relieved. I thought I was going to have to give you another ‘blood, toil, tears, and sweat’ speech—and I didn’t know if I had one in me.”
    Cath smiled. And thought about what a repugnant creature she was.
    “So, tell me about it,” the professor said. “May I read what you have so far?”
    Cath shook her head too quickly, then kept shaking her head at a more normal pace. “No, I mean, not yet. I just … not yet.”
    “Fair enough.” Professor Piper looked suspicious. (Or maybe Cath was just paranoid.) “Can you tell me what you’re writing about?”
    “Yeah,” Cath said. “Of course. I’m writing about…” She imagined a big wheel spinning around. Like on The Price Is Right or Wheel of Fortune. Wherever it landed, that would be it—that’s what she’d have to write. “I’m writing about…”
    Professor Piper smiled. Like she knew Cath was lying, but still really wanted her to pull this off.
    “My mom,” Cath said. And swallowed.
    “Your mom,” the professor