“But I haven’t asked, either,” Maddie said. “And I should have.”
Mal shrugged. “Well, you are now.”
“So,” Maddie said, scooting even closer to Mal. “My answer is no, I will not be mad at you, and yes, I will miss the hell out of you, but if staying’s what you want, then I want that for you too.”
“I think it is,” Mal said.
“Then it is for me too,” Maddie replied, and snaked out her arms for a hug.
Mal consented, wiggling forward to wrap their arms around their sister. They fit awkwardly but tightly, with Mal’s face pressed against Maddie’s strong shoulder, their nose scrunched up.
“I’m really proud of you,” Maddie said. And when Mal snorted into her sleeve, she reiterated, “I mean it. I’msoproud.”
It was not a word Mal heard often—from their parents, or their teachers, or, until recently, from themself. To hear it from Maddie, who had somuchto be proud of, meant more to Mal than they could have expected.
“I’m proud of you too, duh,” Mal said into Maddie’s shoulder, and for a while they just stayed there, the warmth of that word hot in their throat and Maddie’s familiar scent in their nose. Then finally, through their squinched nose, they said, “Okay, I think we can watchBaking Showagain.”
Maddie laughed and pulled away, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands. “Ugh, I got your hair all wet. Okay, sure. Let’s rewind, though. Patricia got kicked off at the end of last episode, and it’s a good one.”
Mal smiled, patting the wet spot on their hair, and settled in to watch.
HEY, MAL!
HERE’S THE INFORMATION WE TALKED ABOUT THE OTHER NIGHT AT THE BOOTH. OR, WELL, PROBABLY WAY MORE INFORMATION THAN YOU EVER NEEDED ABOUT NKU’S INTERDISCIPLINARY STUDIES PROGRAM. I THREW IN A COUPLE OF BROCHURES ABOUT FRESHMAN HOUSING, TOO. DORM LIFE ISN’T GLAMOROUS, BUT THERE’S SOMETHING REALLY COOL ABOUT IT, I PROMISE. ALSO THERE’S SOME PRINTOUTS ABOUT SOME OF MY FAVORITE QUEER ORGS ON CAMPUS. BASICALLY, IF YOU CAN’T TELL FROM THE THICKNESS OF THE ENVELOPE, I WENT A LITTLE OVERBOARD.
ALSO JUST PUTTING THIS OUT THERE: IF YOU EVER WANT TO GO CHECK OUT THE CAMPUS OR TALK WITH ANYONE (I KNOW DR. BARNETT WOULD LOVE TO MEET YOU), I AM MORE THAN HAPPY TO GIVE YOU A RIDE!
LET ME KNOW!
SAM.
if you need a roommate,
hit me up
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINETHE MEETING TO END ALL MEETINGS
“Are you ready for this, Mal?”
Emerson’s voice came from beside them, her chair rolling up close to Mal’s. She dipped her head down low to find Mal’s eyes. Mal smiled and kissed her quickly, stealing a soothing taste of her peppermint lip balm.
The jittery nerves raged in their chest anyway, radiating through their belly, their fingers, the tip of their nose. It wasn’t bad, not entirely, but it was there: Mal was nervous, anxiety tugging at their edges. The nerves also felt a little like excitement; Mal always had trouble untangling those two.
“I’m ready,” they said, regardless.
The rest of theMixxedMediastaff had found their way to the Zine Lab on Friday evening, and the whole room was now alive with the sound of their chatter. Mal turned toward the noise and Emerson full-on spun around twice in her rolling chair to join them in looking at the gathered staffers.
Everyone was there: Nylan and Parker, sitting almost as close as Mal and Emerson and splitting a box of green-tea Pocky; James, with Kodi and Alex admiring his new Pride flag socks; Stella, at the far end of the table, looking disinterestedas Theodora chatted happily in her direction. And there was another new face, a person it took Mal a moment to recognize as Jade, who had written forCollagebut then dropped along with their funding. By her warm (if shy) smile and little wave, Mal guessed she was coming back.
Even as the fate ofMixxedMediawas up for discussion, the zine staff was growing.
For Mal, that settled it.
“Okay,” they said, to themself but also to Emerson, who Mal gave a resolute nod. “Let’s do this.”
Emerson leaned forward and pressed a quick but firm kiss to Mal’s forehead. She nodded. “Let’s do this.”
Mal stood.
