It’s not as creepy as it sounds. During the summers, a film organization shows classic movies against the wall of a structure within the cemetery. It’s always a huge crowd spread out over an open area on beach blankets with picnic baskets. There’s nothing scary about it, but Maliah’s always refused to come. Until this time—once Jax was going and Trevor expressed interest.
Jordi meets me at my place to wait for Jax to pick us up, since he offered, and also because Jordi’s parents each have plans tonight and therefore an extra car is not available. I try to imagine my parents being cool enough to have separate plans on a Saturday night but am unable to.
“Come to my room,” I tell Jordi when I let her in.
“Whoa,” she says with a grin.
“Not like that. My parents are—just, come on.” I take her hand and pull her down the hallway. Okay, we still kiss for a couple minutes, but then I pull myself away from her and pick up the tissue paper–wrapped bag off my desk.
“What’s this?” Jordi asks with an eyebrow raised.
“Just open it,” I say, though, for the first time, I worry that it isn’t good enough or that Jordi doesn’t like people picking things out for her or who knows. Suddenly I can’t imagine what it’ll look like in her hands.
Jordi unwraps the tissue paper and stares at the bag.
“I made it,” I say. “If that wasn’t obvious. I mean, not too obvious, I hope. It’s not supposed to look like a sad crafts project.”
“You made this?” Jordi turns the bag over in her hands. “I love this. And you know mine’s in sad shape.”
“It’s not that sad,” I say, and I realize I’m breathing normally again. “Maggie helped me, I should say. I didn’t tell her it was for you, but …”
“I don’t care.” Jordi begins transferring the contents of her old bag to this one. “Oh my god, Abby. The inside is Hello Kitty?”
“I didn’t even know that material would exist, but it does. Can you believe it?”
She hugs me so tight that I’m back to not breathing normally.
“So it’s okay?” I ask, and she laughs.
“You dork,” she says, still hugging me. “Thank you.”
Mom leans into my doorway. “Jax’s car is outside, girls.”
Jordi and I pull away from each other.
“Hi, Mrs. Ives,” Jordi says while attempting to tame down her untamable waves.
“The fruit’s in the refrigerator, right?” I ask Mom, and despite walking in on us in full-body contact, she’s smiling. Probably because I volunteered to bring a healthy snack tonight.
“It is. Have fun, girls.”
“I feel like your mom hates me slightly less every time I’m here,” Jordi whispers to me as we walk to the kitchen. “A few more times and dislike will be dialed down to apathy.”
“And then we have ambivalence to look forward to.” I take the refrigerated bag out and follow Jordi to the front door. “I’m sorry. Your parents are amazing and—”
“And it’s fine.”
Jax is out of the car and leaning against the hood like he’s the teen dream from some 1980s movie. “Hey, ladies.”
“I have the fruit,” I say.
“I have four packs of Red Vines,” Jordi says.
“Red Vines?” Jax’s face crumbles. “I thought you were bringing Twizzlers.”
“Aren’t they the same thing?” I ask.
“NO,” they chorus.
“Oh my god,” I say. “Let’s go.”
Jordi climbs into the backseat, which leaves me up front with Jax. I turn down his banjo music and check my lipstick in his rearview mirror. I notice Jordi behind me, gazing down at the bag, and I’m convinced that my physical heart feels more like the metaphorical Valentine’s one right now. This must be like what it feels like to fall in love with someone, which means that somehow I, Abby Ives, am falling in love at seventeen and without any of my apparent flaws fixed. I’m just me, and this is still happening.
We park in a garage just around the corner from the cemetery and file into the huge line filling the entrance. The movie won’t start for hours, but if we don’t line up this early, we’ll never manage to grab a good spot. Luckily everyone manages to find each other, and Zoe’s brought pre-pre-movie snacks for this portion of waiting.
“This is amazing.” Maliah selects a pink macaron from the box Zoe’s opened for us. “It matches Abby’s hair exactly.”
“Hold it up.” Jordi digs in the new bag for her camera and takes a few photos of the cookie in front of my hair. “It’s literally the exact same shade.”
“What about this one?” Zoe points to a lavender cookie, and then suddenly everyone wants to suggest macaron colors for me to change my hair to match.
“I’d actually be really sad if you changed it,” Maliah tells me. “Not that you aren’t practically a grown woman who can make all her own decisions, Abbs. You just seem pink.”
“I agree with that,” Jordi says, though she is taking photos of the rest of the macarons. Now that I associate them with hair dye, they seem less appetizing.
“Don’t you think that Abby should put photos of herself on her blog?” Maliah asks Jordi.
“Hey,” I say. “Don’t do some sort of weird … turn my girlfriend against me thing.”
“How is that turning me against you?” Jordi asks. “Also, I haven’t actually ever seen Abby’s blog. She’s mysterious with the internet.”
“What?” Maliah gives me a look. “You know that my relationship advice is no secrets.”
“Everyone knows that about you, Mal,” Trevor says, which makes me laugh.
“Are you saying … it’s no secret?” I ask, and he high-fives me.
“You two aren’t as funny as you think you are,” Maliah says with a heavy sigh, though I can see in her face that she’s holding back
