“Nobody.”
“Mm-hmm, who are younottexting, then?”
“... Nobody.”
“Why do you lie to me, Finch?”
I shrugged and ducked my head. “Because the truth is mind-numbingly stupid?”
Maggie gave a dramatic sigh—honestly, she was wasted on set design—and lay on her side, head supported on an arm and braids spilling casually over one shoulder. She looked like the centerfold forDone With Your CrapMagazine.
“So”—she examined the nails of her other hand—“is he straight or taken?”
“Neither!” I said defensively, then gazed up to the heavens, spread my arms wide, and fell backward onto the grass. “Both.”
“Wow.”
“I mean,kinda. Not really, though. He could be queer. Also he’s single.”
“Wow.”
“It’s a long story. I asked him out, but he couldn’t tell. And now he wants to be myfriend.” I watched a few clouds go by and did my very best to sink to the center of the earth. After a while, when I still hadn’t succeeded, I said, “Maggie?”
“Yeah?”
I sat up and started beheading individual blades of grass. “What’s wrong with me?”
She rolled her eyes. “You want it alphabetically or by category?”
“Category. Specifically, matters of the heart.”
“Well,” she said slowly, “you’re alittledramatic.” Then she turned over and reached into her bag, pulling out the PB&J her girlfriend had made her this morning.
No one was ever going to makemea PB&J.
Maggie saw the way I was eyeing her sandwich and bit into it, maintaining steady eye contact. “Alfo,” she said through a mouth full of bread, “you ne’er faw faw ree peepoh.”
I looked over the arm I’d used to shield myself from the spray of crumbs. “I what?”
She just offered me her crusts. I accepted them like the garbage can I am.
“So you’re saying I should text him back?”
“No, keep ghosting him. I bet it’s making him feelawesome.” Then she frowned, a rare show of interest. “I thought you saidyouaskedhimout.”
I gave a guilty shrug. “I’m a bad person.” My natural defensiveness kicked in. “But it’s only been a couple days. I could be busy. Iambusy.”
“Ugh.” She grabbed my script and hit me over the head with it. “Can we get back to work? There’s no point in you distracting people from my beautiful sets with your bad acting.”
“No. I’m still sad.” I finished the last of her sandwich crusts and just looked as pathetic as I knew I was. “Be nice to me?”
Maggie groaned. “Fine. I bet if you text him back, he’ll textyouback. And then you’ll be friends. And then he’ll realize he’s loved you all along.”
I started to smile at her shyly. “Really? You think so?”
“Oh my god,yes. Now can we work?”
“What should I text him?”
