Definitely another MS fan at this school. Pros: Awesome; Not alone; Pretty girl. Cons: Pretty girl. #Fuuuuuuuuck
Oct 28 2016
Heyyyy let’s not talk about the pretty girl anymore okay she’s probably looking at this.
CHAPTER 11
Wallace thinks I’m pretty.
Wallace thinks I’m pretty?
Did he put that there because he knew I’d see it later? Is he trying to lure me into some kind of trap? Wallace doesn’t seem that conniving, but I don’t know, I’m not a teenage boy.
Wallace thinks I’m pretty.
This is weird.
I have on a sweatshirt two sizes too big and jeans worn so often you can’t see the shape of my legs inside them. My hair’s okay, I guess, when it’s not covered in glitter. It’s not that I think I’m ugly, I just don’t think about what I look like. I don’t liveout there. If I had my way, I wouldn’tlooklike anything at all. I would bea free-floating consciousness that can also somehow draw. I don’t care how I look. I don’t want to care.
It is weird for him to point it out. No one points out how I look. I am not a “point out how she looks” kind of girl.
I really want to bring this up with Emmy and Max to see what they think, but I can’t, because I don’t want them to know Wallace is rainmaker. Like telling them about the transcription, it seems like a betrayal of trust. I could say he said that to my face, but I know for a fact Emmy skims through the Angels’ update feeds at least once a week, and she’ll definitely see it on rainmaker’s page. It doesn’t take an engineering prodigy to put those two things together.
But Wallace gave me another chapter ofMonstrous Sea, so he can’t be kidding. He put time and thought into this. He cares aboutMonstrous Sea—he wouldn’t use it to hurt someone. Right?
CHAPTER 12
On Wednesday, Wallace and I hang out at school like nothing different has happened. And by “hang out,” I mean we pass notes in homeroom and sit together at lunch. I try not to gush too much over the second chapter of his transcription ofMonstrous Sea. When I pass him on the bench outside school at the end of the day, he looks up and waves good-bye, and I don’t feel the need to sprint to my car and lock myself inside.
Thursday’s the same, but when I get home that day and check my messages to see if Emmy and Max have gotten their packages yet, I find a new message thread from Wallace.
2:47 p.m.
rainmaker:So, how about that Halloween party? :D
rainmaker:If you don’t have a costume, I bet you could put a sign on your shirt that says “lurker.” I know my friends would think that was the best thing ever.
rainmaker:btw they’re all huge MS fans. Don’t know if I mentioned that.
rainmaker:Also I’m driving, so don’t worry about getting there.
Well. I suppose he really wants me to go. That must be a good sign. I thought he was as quiet and weird as me, but he’s not at all. He’s not exactly the center of social life at Westcliff, but this is way more forward than I’d be with anyone. If I invited someone somewhere—unlikely—and they told me they’d think about it, I’d end up barricading myself in my room and never speaking to them again.
Here’s what I know about this party so far:
•Wallace wants me to go
•Wallace’s friends will be there
•There will beMonstrous Seacosplay
•I will miss theDog DaysHalloween special
•It will be at a bookstore, which is not particularly partyish
It doesn’t sound completely terrible. And I’m sure if I don’t like it, I can find some excuse to leave. But I’ll miss doing my live commentary onDog Days.
Wait. I get up from the computer and stick my head out my bedroom door, looking over the balcony railing.
