Then we worked our way across the exhibit hall. At the LEGO booth, we built a spaceship for the imaginary hero ofGalaxy Riderto travel the universe in. Xander paid for a picture in aStar Trek: The Original Serieschair, claiming his parents would disown himif he passed up such a rare opportunity. My mom’s favorite author, R. A. Loone, was signing copies of her newest release—the first in a paranormal romance series about a crimefighting succubus—so I tracked down the Acker Publishing booth and picked up a paperback. Finally, we ended at the Xbox station where we played a new first-person shooter game calledTheDread Hunt.
After I won twice in a row, Xander pulled off the provided headphones and set down his controller. “I yield.”
“Aw, come on,” I complained, peeling back my own headphones. “Best three out of five?” I puckered my bottom lip in a pout, not ready to give up our spot at the console. We’d waited in line for a solid thirty minutes to play.
“How about some fresh air instead?” he suggested.
“Fresh air?” I scoffed and crossed my arms. “Sounds like an excuse to me. Is someone afraid of getting his ass handed to him?”
A microscopic smirk appeared on Xander’s face. “On the contrary, I’m not afraid to admit I’m terrible at video games. Doesn’t matter how many times we play—you’ll beat me every time.”
I glanced over my shoulder, toward the line of con goers eager for a chance to experience the bloodthirsty world ofTheDread Hunt. “Fine, fine,” I said, relinquishing my controller. “I suppose some fresh air would be nice.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes and a taxi ride later, we strolled through the entrance to Central Park off Columbus Circle. Two main footpaths veered in opposite directions, and Xander made an executive decision, pointing toward the path with a better canopy. It wastoo early in October to witness a full autumn foliage, but some of the trees’ leaves were breaking rank with summer and transitioning into a crisp fall yellow.
“So was Comic Con exactly how you remembered?” I asked as we pushed past a blockade of men soliciting tourists for cycle rickshaw rides. A few people—tourists judging by the camera clutched in one woman’s hands and the fanny pack clipped around her husband’s waist—glanced in our direction when they noticed Xander’s makeup, but we ignored them.
He tilted his head, considering. “Yes and no. It’s bigger now, more mainstream, but at the same time, I feel like I stepped straight into my childhood. It’s amazing how certain details can take you back.”
“Like what?”
“Artist Alley for one, and all the badges and lanyards,” he replied as we fell into step behind a man walking his golden retriever. “But what really got me was the cosplay. I still remember the first time I saw someone dressed up as Princess Zelda. She was my first crush. My dad had an old Nintendo I played all the time as a kid. There were a bunch of games, but my favorite wasThe Adventure of Link. When I was ten, we went to Emerald City Comic Con in Seattle for my mom’s birthday, and there was a girl in a Zelda costume. As soon as I saw her, I told my parents I was going to marry her.”
“Any marriageable princesses in the crowd today?” I asked, nudging him in the side.
Xander coughed and cleared his throat. “Might have seen a few,” he mumbled.
I threw back my head and laughed. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“I had a killer time. Although this wasn’t exactly how I expected my day to go.”
“Is that a good thing or bad?”
“Good, definitely good.” He glanced over his shoulder as a woman holding a bunch of balloons jostled by him, two kids in tow. “Don’t get me wrong, I was super bummed about the panel, but exploring the exhibit hall more than made up for it. Never would have done that if you didn’t push me, so thanks.”
The joy in his voice made my chest feel light. “Don’t mention it,” I told him. “Besides, if you think about it, this was all your doing.”
“How do you figure?”
“Well, you introduced me to Melody, who gave me a prosthetics lesson, which resulted in your current disguise,” I explained. “And without that, there’s no way you could have walked the convention floor.”
“So I should be thanking myself?”
“Yup. I suggest sending a thank-you card. It’s the polite thing to do.”
Xander grinned. “Yeah, okay. I’ll get right on that.”
As we ambled deeper into the park, continuing our conversation about the convention, the soundtrack of our surroundings played in the background: chatter and laughter from passersby, birds chirping in the trees, the hum of traffic in the distance. Eventually, we reached a large stretch of exposed bedrock overlooking a playground. There were people everywhere: children swarming the swings and slides,parents watching from wooden benches, and groups of friends lounging in the afternoon sun. On the nearest patch of grass, a superhero-themed birthday party was in full swing, and I spotted the woman who’d bumped into Xander collecting presents from a mini Superman, Captain America, and Black Panther.
“Not sure why, but I’m pretty sure this is called Umpire Rock,” Xander announced, studying a map he’d pulled up on his phone. “Looks like a cool place to people-watch. Wanna sit down?”
I nodded, and we carefully picked our way across the rock, maneuvering around the other patrons until we found an empty spot. Only then did the name of the outcropping become clear. Through the trees was a scattering of baseball fields, some empty, others in use.
“So,” Xander said as I settled onto the smooth, mica-flecked stone. He plopped down beside me, his shoulder accidentally bumping mine as he sprawled out. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“Not at all.”
