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Pembroke wagged an eyebrow. “Lilac hasn’t sent me any. A handful of ‘look at me, I’m so perfect and fun and flighty’ photos she tagged all of us into, but nothing besides that.”
“Okay,” said Brielle, shaking her head. It was like dealing with a ninth grader. She almost made Nora look mature. Almost. “So what? Gavin and I have been trying to reach you…”
Pembroke shrugged. “I haven’t been online or on my phone much.”
Brielle cradled her forehead in the tips of her fingers.Then how did you know Lilac hasn’t sent you many messages?she wanted to say. But she clearly wasn’t getting anywhere here.
“Wait,” said Pembroke, studying Brielle suddenly as if she were an alien species, “is that disabled guy you mentioned cleaning for, the one who made you put your foot in your mouth so to speak, actuallyArcher Ward?”
“So youhaveread my messages!” Brielle clenched her fists at her side. “You were just ignoring them!”
“I’ve been too busy to write, okay?” Pembroke pushed her glasses up her nose again. “And I didn’t think you’d want to talk to me anymore.”
Brielle cocked an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Pembroke bit her lip and shrugged. She really was one of Nora’s peers. The quieter, more sullen, stubborn variety. She grimaced. “How could you not tell me it wasArcher Wardyou were talking about?”
Brielle crossed her arms. “Maybe I would have if you’d bothered to return my messages.” She looked over her shoulder, taking in the packed store. “Besides, I didn’t know he was famous at first.”
“‘Famous’ is a bit of a stretch,” said Pembroke, “but yeah, I guess.Within a certain community.”
Brielle frowned. There seemed to be an accusation there under Pembroke’s words, the kind the two of them used to vent about—the “you’re not welcome here, faker.”
Pembroke tapped her fingers against the back of her book. “Did he actually…inviteyou here?”
“Yes,” snapped Brielle, actually feeling herself raise her nose in the air. “I’m actually one of hisguests.”
Pembroke scrunched her nose. “Why would he invite hiscleaning lady? That he’s known for a week… Oh my god.” She covered her mouth and hissed. “Have yousleptwith him?”
“Don’t be crass,” said Brielle. She didn’t much like this post-graduation Pembroke. Or maybe that was how Lilac had seen her all along. Quiet but judgmental. Off doing her own thing and looking down on anyone who thought that dating was actually something humans did, not something to be completely avoided. So instead of admitting the truth, she let her draw her own conclusions. “That’s none of your business.”
“I wasn’t sure if he could even…” Pembroke gestured with one hand, not very clearly, but there was little else she could mean.
It was Brielle’s turn to scrunch her nose. “You know, I don’t get—”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” called a voice over an overhead speaker. “If you could take your seats—or your places, really. Sorry there’s practically standing room only. We’re about to get started.”
Pembroke pushed past Brielle to make her way back to the presentation area.
Brielle squared her shoulders and squeezed through people to walk beside her. “This isn’t over,” she hissed. “I’ll talk to you afterward.”
Even though Pembroke nodded, Brielle wasn’t very confident she’d heard her.
Chapter Ten
Archer often askedhimself why he did these things in the weeks leading up to his events. Hereallywasn’t sure why he did these things when they made him feel so… Looked at. Examined. Unreal.
But he knew that a part of him really liked it. A part of him liked moving his world beyond Pauline, his mother, and his basketball buddies. A part of him liked to see the people who sent him fan messages in person. (Fortunately, any trolls who sent him messages seemed reluctant to venture out to meet him face-to-face. The closest he got were some rambling people who thought he had a textbook knowledge of the comic and could follow every long-winded conversation they had about the story—which was also not even up to him.)
He’d made it both exponentially worse and exponentially more thrilling by inviting Brielle along. He still couldn’t believe he’d done that… And that she’d accepted.
He sat in his chair in the alleyway alone—it’d taken a bit to convince Pauline she didn’t need to wait there with him like a parent dropping an elementary school student off, and besides, her van was kind of in the way of the door swinging out—tapping his knees, trying to calm the discomfort he felt for so many reasons.
Finally, George opened the door and grinned, shaking his hand. “Thanks for coming, man.”
“Thanks for having me.”
George stepped out into the alleyway so he could hold the door. “Careful of all the boxes. We tried to clear a path.”
