Not really. She’s a version of me, a narrative, not truth.
Nash loves a narrative.
I pick up the remote and re-pause in the middle of a Dwight monologue.
“So,” I say.
“So,” Ollie says.
“Don’t pretend there’s not more to the Talia story and you’re not dying to tell me. I’m sorry I’ve been distracted. Spill.”
Ollie crosses his arms and we have a stare-off.
The tension is killing him, I know it. Even if he’s annoyed with me, he wants to spill.
Ollie breaks. “Fine. Okay, don’t freak out.”
“I won’t.”
“Talia kissed me,” Ollie says.
My brain is all exclamation points at this information.
“I kind of kissed her back,” he adds.
“Oliver! What!”
“And … I liked it? I think. I don’t know, we were dancing and then out of nowhere her mouth was on my mouth. And then her tongue was in my mouth. And I didn’t hate it. At all.”
“Wait, your first lady kiss was PDA?” I ask.
Ollie snorts. “A truly hetero moment.”
“You don’t have to, like, know what this means,” I say.
“If you give me one more ‘sexuality is fluid’ spiel—”
“It is!”
“I know. It’s still confusing, though.”
“Fair,” I say.
“Talia is super cool, I just never thought of her like—like that. But now that it happened, I can’t stop thinking about it,” Ollie says.
“Theory: You’re attracted to Davidsons. Exclusively.”
Ollie laughs. “Shut up.”
“At least one of the Levitt siblings got some action last night.”
Ollie launches a pillow at my face and everything else in my life is a mess, but we are okay again. We watch a couple of episodes of The Office together, quoting the lines of our favorite characters in real time. Ollie is a Dwight stan. I’m Pam forever. It feels good, just hanging out with Ollie. It feels like I need to do this more.
After one too many that’s what she said jokes, I head upstairs to OTP and midterms. Ever since the Fireflies and You drama resurfaced, I’ve turned off my social media and email notifications. It’s easier to conquer the trolls when I’m in the right headspace rather than letting them sneak up on me whenever. It’s always the worst in the twelve hours following a new post. I’m trying to stay neutral for Grams—but it’s hard.
First, I check my email, scanning the fifty-four unread messages for anything important, not really expecting to find anything. Until I see it. Re: BookCon Bloggers IRL Panel Application!
I stare at the subject line, unsure I’m reading it correctly. It’s from two days ago. The BookCon gods popped into my inbox and … I didn’t even know it? How is this possible? I should’ve been obsessing over this email, like I did when I was waiting for the Read Between the Lies cover reveal. Now it’s just here and my brain is not prepared. My heart hammers against my chest, anxiety coursing through my veins.
Oh my God.
I click.
From: [email protected]
Re: BookCon Bloggers IRL Panel Application!
Dear Kels,
Congratulations! We are so excited to formally invite you to be on the Bloggers IRL panel to represent your blog, One True Pastry.
This panel brings together the most popular young adult book bloggers for a Q&A moderated by
Bustle’s Stella McQueen. Blogger panels have been in demand for years, and we’re so excited to offer you a spot on our very first one!
A much more detailed email regarding the panel and BookCon itself will be emailed to all confirmed panelists this spring! To confirm your spot, please follow this link and RVSP via the Google form by no later than January 15th.
All the best,
Rebecca Holloway
BookCon Panel Coordinator
Congratulations.
BookCon.
RSVP.
I stare at the email for five minutes, overwhelmed by the validation. One True Pastry is good. I’m good. As far as the BookCon gods know, I’m just a teen who loves pairing cupcakes with books—and they still decided One True Pastry is worthy of being featured on a panel, that Kels is worthy of being a Blogger IRL.
BookCon wants me. I can put this on my NYU application.
Grams would be so proud.
I can’t believe I went two whole days without checking my OTP email. Was I that distracted by the concept of going to a school dance with Nash? Definitely.
Oh my God, Nash. Where is he? How did he not immediately burst into my DMs when the email came in? That’s not like him. This isn’t like us. We’ve been talking for weeks about the inevitable BookCon decision coming soon. So where is he? Has he been just as distracted as I have? By what? Me?
No. He made it pretty clear last night where he stood. There’s someone else. Kels.
My phone buzzes on my desk with a DM and my stomach twists.
Nash Stevens
Huh. So cone of silence, but I heard via Samira that Annaliese de la Cruz got a spot on the Bloggers IRL panel.
12:31 PM
I guess notifications went out to panelists a few days ago?! I didn’t get anything. I’m assuming you didn’t either.
12:32 PM
I’m still planning on going, I think. So if you still wanted to meet up, I like wouldn’t hate that.
12:33 PM
I stare at the messages from Nash, totally at a loss.
Nash has no clue I got the panel. But he’s going to find out.
Which means he’s going to find out everything.
I type and delete and type and delete.
Turn down the panel. He never has to know. Can you even handle speaking on a panel?
The reality of being on a panel, of speaking on a panel, hits me all at once. What if Stella McQueen asks me a question and I totally freeze up? Or what if I say the wrong thing and embarrass myself and ruin everything—for Kels, for OTP, for Halle?
Turn it down. It’s smart. It’s safe. Protect yourself.
Except … I can’t. I might be an anxious mess, but I’m a proud anxious mess. I worked on my application for weeks. I genuinely love books and the YA community. I was chosen. I am enough. If there’s anywhere I can be Kels, for real, it’s BookCon.
Also? If I turn down BookCon for Nash and don’t get into NYU, I’ll never forgive myself.
My phone buzzes with another string of messages.
Elle Carter
Hey, Kels. Not sure where you’ve been lately, but we heard that BookCon panel emails have gone out. Here for you if you need it
12:45 PM
Samira Lee
I’m honestly shocked. I mean, Annaliese is ridiculous, but you’re totally at her level.
12:46 PM
Amy Chen
do we know who else got it?
12:46 PM
Samira Lee
Nah. Everyone else is being pretty hush. Annaliese and I just go way back from our fanfic days.
12:47 PM
Elle Carter
I’m sure we’ll know soon enough.
12:49 PM
I stand up from my desk chair and fall backward onto my bed. I can’t tell my friends I got the panel without Nash finding out. Which means this is real. BookCon is happening.