Fangirl

room, holding a Simon Snow replica wand for a microphone.
    After a few songs, Cath didn’t need to pretend.
    If any of her neighbors had been home, they would have heard her shouting the lyrics.
    Cath danced. And rapped. And danced. And eventually there was knocking.
    Damn. Maybe the neighbors are home.
    She opened the door without looking and without turning down the music (Kanye-impaired thinking), but ready to apologize.
    It was just Levi.
    “Reagan isn’t here!” Cath shouted.
    He said something, but not loud enough.
    “What?” she yelled.
    “Then who is here?” Levi shouted, smiling. Levi. Always smiling. Wearing a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves unbuttoned at the wrists. Couldn’t even be trusted to dress himself. “Who’s in there, listening to rap music?”
    “Me,” Cath said. She was panting. She tried not to pant.
    He leaned toward her so he wouldn’t have to shout. “This can’t be Cather music. I’d always pegged you as the mopey, indie type.” He was teasing her; only genuine emergencies were allowed to interrupt the Emergency Kanye Party.
    “Go away.” Cath started to shut the door.
    Levi stopped it with his hand. “What are you doing?” he said, laughing, and pushing his head forward on the “doing.”
    She shook her head because she couldn’t think of anything reasonable to say. And because it wouldn’t matter anyway; Levi was never reasonable. “Emergency dance party—go away.”
    “Oh no, ” Levi said, pushing the door open and sliding in. Too skinny. Too tall.
    Cath shut the door behind him. There was no protocol for this. She’d call Wren for a sidebar consultation if there was any chance Wren would answer the phone.
    Levi stood in front of Cath, his face serious (for once) (seriously, for once ) and his head deliberately bobbing up and down. “So,” he said loudly. “Emergency dance party.”
    Cath nodded.
    And nodded. And nodded.
    Levi nodded back.
    And then Cath started laughing and rolled her eyes away from him, moving her hips from side to side. Just barely.
    And then her shoulders.
    And then she was dancing again. Tighter than before—her knees and elbows almost locking—but dancing.
    When she looked back at Levi, he was dancing, too. Exactly the way she would have imagined him dancing if she’d ever tried. Too long and too loose, running his fingers through his hair. ( Dude. We get it. Extreme widow’s peak. ) His eyes were absolutely gleaming with mirth. Putting out light.
    Cath couldn’t stop laughing. Levi caught her eyes and laughed, too.
    And then he was dancing with her. Not close or anything. Not any closer, actually—just looking at her face and moving with her.
    And then she was dancing with him. Better than him, which was nice. She realized she was biting her bottom lip and stopped.
    She started rapping instead. Cath could blow these songs backwards. Levi raised his eyebrows and grinned. He knew the chorus and rapped with her.
    They danced into the next song and through it and into the next. Levi stepped toward her, maybe not even on purpose, and Cath whirled up onto her bed. He laughed and jumped up onto Reagan’s, practically bumping his head on the ceiling.
    They kept on dancing together, imitating each other’s goofiest moves, bouncing at the end of the beds.… It was almost like dancing with Wren. (But not, of course. Really, really not.)
    And then the door swung open.
    Cath jumped back away from it and fell flat on her mattress, bouncing and rolling onto the floor.
    Levi was laughing so hard, he had to lean against the wall with both hands.
    Reagan walked in and said something, but Cath didn’t catch it. She reached up to her desk and closed the laptop, stopping the music. Levi’s laughter rang out in the sudden quiet. Cath was completely out of breath, and she’d landed wrong on her knee.
    “What. The. Major. Fuck, ” Reagan said, more shocked than angry—at least Cath didn’t think she seemed angry.
    “Emergency dance party,” Levi said, jumping off the bed and reaching out to help Cath. Cath held on to the desk and stood up.
    “Okay?” he asked.
    She smiled and nodded her head.
    “Have you met Cather?” Levi said to Reagan, his face still shining with amusement. “She spits hot fire.”
    “This is exactly the sort of day I’m having,” Reagan said, setting down her bag and kicking off her shoes. “Weird shit around every corner. I’m going out. You coming?”
    “Sure.” Levi turned to Cath. “You