Fangirl

wanting to buy a ticket to her freak show. “That’s not a good thing,” she said.
    “It is if it’s Levi,” Reagan said. “He loves that stuff. When he gets really sad, he likes to walk around Morrill Hall.”
    That was the museum on campus. There were wildlife dioramas and the world’s largest mammoth fossil. “He does?” God that ’s cute.
    Reagan rolled her eyes. “Come on.”
    *   *   *
    It was almost eleven when they got to Levi’s house—but not exactly dark, because of all the snow. “Will anybody still be here?” Cath asked Reagan when they got out of the car.
    “Levi will still be here. He lives here.”
    The house was exactly as Cath had imagined it. It was in an old neighborhood with big white Victorian houses. Every house had a huge porch and way too many mailboxes next to the door. Parking was ridiculous. They had to park four blocks away, and Cath was glad she wasn’t wearing pointy, high-heeled boots like Reagan’s.
    By the time they got to the door, Cath’s stomach had realized what was happening. It twisted painfully, and she could feel her breath coming and going too soon.
    She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Boy. Party. Strangers. Beer. Strangers. Party. Boy. Eye contact.
    Reagan glanced over at her. “Don’t be a spaz,” she said sternly.
    Cath nodded, looking down at the worn-smooth welcome mat.
    “I’m not going to abandon you in there,” Reagan said, “even if I want to.”
    Cath nodded again, and Reagan opened the door.
    It was immediately warmer and brighter inside—and exactly not how Cath had imagined it.
    Cath had pictured bare walls and the sort of furniture that sat out on curbs for a week before anybody decided to take it.
    But Levi’s house was actually nice. Simple, but nice. There were a few paintings hanging on the walls, and houseplants everywhere—ferns and spider plants and a jade tree so big, it looked like an actual tree.
    There was music playing—sleepy, electronic music—but not too loud. And somebody was burning incense.
    There were plenty of people still there—all older than Cath, at least as old as Levi—and they were mostly just talking. Two guys standing next to the stereo were sort of dancing, sort of just being silly, and they didn’t seem to care that they were the only ones.
    Cath stood as close as she could to Reagan’s back and tried not to be obvious about looking for Levi. (Inside her head, Cath was standing on tiptoe with her hand over her eyes, scanning the horizon for ships.)
    Everybody there knew Reagan. Somebody handed them each a beer, and Cath took hers but didn’t open it. It was Levi’s roommate. One of them. Almost everybody Cath met in the next few minutes was one of Levi’s roommates. She looked right through them.
    Maybe Levi was in the bathroom.
    Maybe he’d already gone to bed. Maybe Cath could climb into his bed like Goldilocks, and if he woke up, she’d just say “later” and run away. Goldilocks plus Cinderella.
    Reagan had finished half a beer before she asked somebody, “Where’s Levi?”
    The person, a guy with a beard and black Ray-Ban frames, looked around the living room. “Kitchen, maybe?”
    Reagan nodded like she didn’t care. Because she doesn’t really, Cath thought.
    “Come on,” she said to Cath. “Let’s go find him.” And then, when they’d walked away from everyone else: “Be cool.”
    The house had three big front rooms that were all connected—living room, dining room, and sunroom—and the kitchen was in the back, through a narrow doorway. Cath stuck close behind Reagan, so Reagan saw Levi before Cath was even through the door. “Shit,” Cath heard her whisper.
    Cath stepped into the kitchen.
    Levi was leaning back against the sink. (Levi. Always leaning.) He had a bottle of beer in one hand, the same hand he was pressing into a girl’s back.
    The girl looked older than Cath. Even with her eyes closed. Levi’s other hand was tangled in her long, blond hair, and he was kissing her with his mouth smiling and open. He made it look so easy.
    Cath looked down immediately and walked out of the kitchen, walked straight through the house to the front door. She knew Reagan was right behind her because she could hear her muttering. “Shit, shit, shit.”
     
    “But I don’t understand,” Simon stammered, “what is the Insidious Humdrum? Is he a man?”
    “Perhaps.” The Mage wiped the grit from his eyes and swept his wand out in front of them. “Olly olly