Page 42 of Level Up for Love

Chapter

Eleven

Mona has outdone herself this year—and I’m far from the only person to notice.

Wide-eyed and blushing furiously, a kid encouraged by her smiling guardian shuffles up to Mona and asks, “Please, can I take a picture with you? Your cosplay is amazing.”

Mona obliges with a happy grin, and I admire her costume again as she poses for the photo.

Mona’s blond hair is caught up in a bouncy ponytail, and her hot pink lipstick, sparkly blue eye shadow, and thick mascara scream Barbie. But her outfit comprises dozens of pieces of pink foam armor, complete with a heart-shaped chestplate and a short, flirty warrior’s kilt. Even her four-foot-long fake axe is a glittery pink, and as the preteen stands next to her for their pic, Mona offers to let her hold it.

The entire outfit is spectacular. Barb-arian, she calls it.

“Like I said, best one yet,” I say as Mona returns to my side, practically glowing from all the attention.

Mona and I have been coming to ComicConnecticut without fail every year since we were kids, save for when she was in the hospital and during the pandemic. Dad had started the tradition—of course he had—back when the convention was just a jumble of tables in a single large reception room. It’s grown exponentially since then, with dozens of panel chambers and a sprawling convention floor crowded with actors signing autographs, artists, booths for various games and publishers, and more. And ever since Mona caught sight of her first cosplay, she hasn’t stopped creating her own.

“Where to next?” she asks.

I pull up the con’s map on my phone. I occasionally cosplay when the mood strikes, but I didn’t prep anything this year. Not to mention, I’m here to make an important introduction, and I want to be dressed as myself when I do it.

“Well, I have plans to meet—”

“Holy shit, Pickles is here?” Mona gasps. She snatches my phone from my hand and squints at the list of artists. “Oh my god, she’s so niche, I didn’t even know she did conventions! We have to go find her.”

“Pickles? Who’s that?” Mona’s way more plugged in than I am.

“She’s an online creator I follow, draws for all sorts of fandoms. Can we go?” Mona is literally bouncing on her toes. I have no idea where she found the pink faux fur for her knee-high boots to complete the look, but it’s holding up well in the wake of her restlessness.

I retrieve my phone and glance back down to the map. “There’s a booth I want to check out first, and they’re closing soon. I’ll meet up with you later?”

Mona is already walking away. “Yeah!”

I huff a laugh through my nose and look back up to survey the convention floor. This area—the Dealer’s Room—houses mostly local and popular vendors who are here to sell merch. But they have a few tables set up to publicize other nerdy events happening throughout the year, including an anime convention, a horror-themed con, a cosplay contest, and, early next year in Boston…NEWT.

I wind through the maze of tables, passing a merchant selling wigs, a child wearing a light-up Transformers costume, the entirety of the Lord of the Rings fellowship walking in a linked line down the aisle, and a crowded stall with buyers looking through collections of Magic: The Gathering cards.

The cards remind me of Colin, and I briefly wonder where the others have run off to.

I hadn’t wanted to invite everyone, not with things still so freshly awkward after my outburst last week, but Mona convinced me that this might be a good opportunity to smooth things over.

I bite the inside of my cheek at the irony as I wander the booths alone, thinking about how well that went.

We’d parted ways almost as quickly as we’d met up. Arthur and Shay had a long list of panels and presentations they wanted to attend, while Colin planned to camp out in the gaming room and crush every competitor who dared challenge him in Magic. Mona and I ran off on our own, content to people-watch and engage with whatever caught our eye first—it’s how we’ve always done it.

I haven’t seen Wesley at all. Colin mentioned he wouldn’t be coming until later, but I’m not counting down the minutes. Lately, being near him has been…confusing. The moment of understanding we shared at East Rock Park really mixed things up for me, and the way he opened up the story in our last D&D session made me hungry, impatient to keep playing. Every time I want to settle into the comfort of being engaged in a game again, I have to remind myself exactly who is running it. It’s been only a few weeks, and already I’m interacting with him more than I ever did in college.

So if I let him get the best of me again, especially after I let Owen do the same—

Well, I’ve got further to fall.

I try to shake him out of my thoughts as I reach NEWT’s booth. It’s at the end of the row, staffed by a woman with a bright purple bob and a shorter guy whose dark hair is slicked into a bun at the nape of his neck. Behind them hang several posters showing off some of their contest winners from past years. They have separate competitions for board games and video games, and some of the previous winning submissions are for sale at the booth.

The purple-haired woman seems preoccupied with running the sales, so I approach the man standing behind his laptop. He adjusts his glasses and offers me a smile. “Hey there. How can I help you?”

“I’m entering your demo contest this year; it’s my first time.” Technically, I’ve already registered online, but I figured stopping by the booth to introduce myself and check things out couldn’t hurt.

His expression brightens. “That’s awesome. What kind of games do you make?”