“Hello, my person,” Emerson greeted them. It was the word they settled on instead ofpartner—something they felt included both that word and the So Much More of them—and she still did a hip-wiggling happy dance every time she used it. “What did you bring?”
“Hi, my person,” Mal said back, feeling the thrill of Correctness in their chest. “And sugar cookies.” They held out a Tupperware toward her, but Emerson ignored it, much too busy snaking her arm around their side and wiggling as close to them as she could. “Maddie helped. I bet you’ll never be able to tell which ones she decorated and which ones I did.”
“Oh, I will,” Emerson said, “because yours will beperfect.”
Mal snorted a laugh.
“I brought some derby pie too,” said Maddie, who came into the room after Mal, a sheepish smile on her face. “Where can I put it down?”
“Oh, Maddie!” James said, coming over and taking Mal’s cookies. “Here, we have a table set up by the coffee maker, I’ll show you.”
“You good?” Mal asked their sister under their breath, checking in.
“Totally,” said Maddie with a grin, as she followed James further into the bustling room.
Everyone was there: the writers, of course, but also their friends and at least one other sibling (Alex’s—a sister named Vanessa). It seemed like they were all happy to spend their Black Friday here in the back room rather than shopping (or, in Theodora’s case, in addition to shopping). Emerson had insisted they would be, but Mal suspected her real reason for insisting on this date was because she wanted to try everyone’s leftovers.
And with the mishmash of wonderful aromas now floating through the Zine Lab, Mal couldn’t say they blamed her.
“I still think we should turn this into a holiday decorating party,” Emerson said, smiling beside Mal in the editors’ corner. Despite the cold outside—it felt not like fall but like winter, and Mal was almost certain they’d seen a couple of snow flurries on the long walk here with Maddie—the Zine Lab felt warm, smelling of cinnamon from Nylan’s apple crisp and sage from Kodi’s mom’s corn bread dressing. Mal sank into their editor’s chair and surveyed the room, Emerson doing the same beside them.
“Nah,” they said, watching as everyone milled around, chatting happily as they filled their plates with food. “Let me have one last day of fall.”
“Fine, you fun-sucker,” Emerson huffed like she was mad, but she rolled over until her thighs were touching Mal’s anyway.
“This is really nice,” Mal said, resting their hand on her sparkly skirt.
“I mean, Idohave killer legs,” Emerson said.
Mal laughed. “I mean this—all of this. I’m glad we’re doing it.”
“I’m gladyou’redoing it,” Emerson said, doing a happy little wiggle beside them.
And surrounded by a room full of friends, Mal was too.
But they weren’t only here for friendship and a feast—they had things to do, too. And so Mal almost felt bad—almost—when they stood, clapped their hands once, and said, “Okay, team, let’s get to work.”
But instead of groaning, everyone gathered around the worktable, some with plates of cookies, or leftover sandwiches, or cups of Parker’s party punch (Sprite and rainbow sherbert and swirls of edible glitter, “for that extra queer flavor”). They looked as excited as Mal felt when they asked, “So, what do we want our January theme to be?”
“Holidays, obviously,” said Emerson, before anyone else got a chance to talk.
Parker laughed. “You had your chance last month, Emerson!”
“And y’all didn’ttakeit,” she lamented.
“But it’s theJanuaryissue,” Kodi added helpfully. “So it should be something New Year–themed, right?”
“Iguessthat’s a holiday,” Emerson said, perking up.
“We could do ‘Resolutions,’?” Alex proposed. “And explore what that means or what we’re wanting to do for the new year.”
“Those can get so preachy so fast,” said Kodi. “But I like the idea of looking forward.”
“What about ‘Reflections’?” James suggested.
“I thought we had a ‘Something Our Something’ theme?” asked Theodora.
“Yeah, but I have agreatidea for a Doriel short with mirrors,” he said.
