Fangirl

“It smells like freshly mown clover.”
    “I don’t think you mow clover.”
    “Can you imagine how sweet it would smell if you did?” Levi sat back, which was a relief—until he picked up her pillow and started rubbing his head into it.
    “Oh, God,” she said, “stop. That’s such a violation.”
    Levi laughed, and she tried to grab her pillow from him. He held it to his chest with both hands. “Cather…”
    “Don’t call me that.”
    “Read me some of your secret, dirty fanfiction.”
    “It’s not dirty.”
    “Read me some anyway.”
    She let go of the pillow; he’d probably already filthed it beyond redemption.
    “Why?”
    “Because I’m curious,” he said. “And I like stories.”
    “You just want to make fun of me.”
    “I won’t,” he said. “I promise.”
    “That’s what you and Reagan do when I’m not here, right? Make fun of me. Play with my commemorative busts. Do you have a stupid nickname for me?”
    His eyes sparkled. “Cather.”
    “I don’t exist to amuse you, you know.”
    “ One, are you sure? Because you do. And, two, we don’t make fun of you. Very much. Anymore. And, three …”
    He was counting on his fingers, and his cheeks were twitching, and it was making Cath laugh.
    “Three,” he said, “I won’t make fun of you, to anyone but you, from now on, if you’ll just once, right now, read me some of your fanfiction.”
    Cath gave him a level stare. A mostly level stare. She was still giggling a little. And blinking hard. And occasionally looking up at the ceiling. “You’re curious,” she said.
    He nodded.
    She rolled her eyes again and turned to her laptop. Why not. She didn’t have anything to lose. Yes, but that’s not the point, part of her argued. What do you have to gain?
    It’s not like Levi was going to be impressed by her fanfiction; entertained wasn’t the same as impressed. He already thought she was a weirdo, and this was just going to make her seem that much weirder. Did the bearded lady get excited when cute guys came to her freak show?
    Cath shouldn’t want this kind of attention. And Levi wasn’t even that cute. His forehead was lined even when he wasn’t making a face. Sun damage, probably.
    “Okay,” she said.
    He grinned and started to say something.
    “Shut up.” She held up her left hand. “Don’t make me change my mind. Just … let me find something.…”
    She opened the Simon/Baz folder on her desktop and scrolled through it, looking for something suitable. Nothing too romantic. Or dirty.
    Maybe … yeah. This one’ll do.
    “All right,” she said, “you know how, in the sixth book—”
    “Which one is that?”
    “Simon Snow and the Six White Hares.”
    “Right, I’ve seen that movie.”
    “Okay, so Simon stays at school during Christmas break because he’s trying to find the fifth hare.”
    “And because his dad has been kidnapped by monsters in creepy costumes—so no happy Christmas dinner at the Snow house.”
    “They’re called the Queen’s Ogres,” Cath said. “And Simon still doesn’t know that the Mage is his dad.”
    “How can he not know?” Levi demanded. Cath was encouraged by how indignant he sounded. “It’s so obvious. Why does the Mage show up every time something important happens and get all weepy, talking about how ‘he knew a woman once with Simon’s eyes—’”
    “I know,” Cath said, “it’s lame, but I think Simon wants so badly for the Mage to be his dad that he won’t let himself accept the overwhelming evidence. If he were wrong, it would ruin him.”
    “Basil knows,” Levi said.
    “Oh, Baz totally knows. I think Penelope knows, too.”
    “Penelope Bunce.” Levi grinned. “If I were Simon, I’d be all-Penelope, all the time.”
    “Ech. She’s like a sister to him.”
    “Not like any of my sisters.”
    “Anyway,” Cath said. “This story takes place during that Christmas break.”
    “Okay,” Levi said, “got it.” He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, holding Cath’s pillow. “All right. I’m ready.”
    Cath turned to the computer and cleared her throat. (Then felt stupid about clearing her throat.) Then glanced back at Levi one more time. She couldn’t believe she was doing this.…
    Was she really doing this?
    “If you keep pacing like that,” Baz said, “I’m going to curse your feet into the floorboards.”
    Simon ignored him. He was thinking about the clues he’d found so far, trying to see a pattern … the