“Thanks, but I’m looking for—”
I don’t bother finishing my sentence seeing as I’m already two feet inside the gate, well past the attendant, pushed forward by the momentum of the crowd. I manage to maneuver myself out of the flow of traffic into a corner so I can check the map and schedule.
I’m fumbling with the map, trying to open it with one hand while holding onto the thick program with the other, when someone taps me on the shoulder.
“Need some help?” It’s steampunk Princess Leia, the woman who was ahead of me in line coming into the convention center.
I hold up the partially unfolded map with a sheepish smile. “I look that lost and out of place, huh?”
She returns my smile with a mega-watt grin that lights up her face. She’s the type of girl I normally go for. Petite. Curvy. Cute, if maybe a tad too perky. In different circumstances, I might have worked up the courage to ask her out. But that was before another petite, curvy, cute-if-maybe-a-tad-too-perky girl bullied her way into my apartment, upended my world, and dragged me into the craziness that is Comic Con.
“Not lost and out of place,” steampunk Leia reassures me. “Just new and confused. Where do you want to go?”
“The Mortal Misfits panel. It starts in—” I turn my wrist over to check my Ulysse Nardin tourbillon watch. It’s the one and only thing I have in common with my douchebag dad. A fondness for high-tech, designer timepieces. “Ten minutes.”
“That’s where I’m headed, too. I’m meeting some friends there. We can walk together.”
“That would be great.” I fold the map back up and stick it in the program. Thanks.”
We head down a long passageway to Exhibit Hall 1A, where Leia tells me all the panels and screenings are taking place.
“So, you’re a fellow Mortal Misfits fan?” she asks.
I dodge a couple dressed as Dr. Who and the Tardis, meaning I have to hustle to catch up to my escort before I answer. “You could say that.”
“Are you meeting someone at the panel, too? Or are you here alone?” The side-eyed look she gives me lets me know which answer she’s rooting for.
“I’m meeting someone,” I say. “My girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. As good as it feels to say it out loud, the word also feels small. Unsatisfactory. Inadequate to express the breadth and depth of my feelings for Brie.
“Oh.” To Leia’s credit, her smile only falters for a moment. Then she recovers and launches into an enthusiastic discussion about the panel we’re about to see. “I’ve read all the Mortal Misfits comics. I was super stoked when they announced that they were making a series based on them. Although I’m not sure about some of the casting.”
My fingers curl into tight fists at my sides. If what she’s implying involves Brie, I don’t like it one damn bit.
“What’s wrong with the casting?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light and breezy, like I’m not seething internally at the thought of anyone being less than pleased that Brie’s part of this series.
“Don’t you follow that chat boards?”
“Chat boards?” I echo dully.
“It’s all over the forums. Comic Book Realm. CGC Comics. Comic Book Resources Community. People are upset that they basically went with a bunch of unknowns. There was some excitement at first when everyone thought Brie Larson was going to play Sage. But turns out it’s another actress with a similar name.”
“Brie Lawson,” I mumble.
“Yeah, that’s it. Lawson.” We’re outside the exhibit hall, and she grabs my wrist, pulling me inside. “So you do follow the forums after all.”
“Not really. I heard it onEntertainment Tonight,” I lie, gently shaking her hand off.
“My friends are over there,” she says, pointing to a group of steampunkStar Warscharacters. There’s steampunk Luke, steampunk Han Solo, even steampunk Darth Vader. “Do you see your girlfriend anywhere?”
I scan the room. The stage is still empty but the audience is jam-packed, barely a free seat to be found. For the first time the enormity of how much Brie’s life is about to change really hits me. Of how much my life is going to change if I’m with her.
Jake’s warning rings in my ears, but I ignore it. I’m determined to prove him wrong and shove his stupid I-told-you-so down his throat. He may be my best friend, but that doesn’t mean I can’t want to make him eat his words.
“Wanna join us?” Leia prods since I haven’t answered her initial question. “With your girlfriend, of course, when you find her. It looks like my friends have a couple of extra seats saved.”
My phone buzzes, and I pull it out of my pocket. It’s a text from Jake with a question about our liquor permit, which I renewed last week. But Leia doesn’t know that.
