Page 71 of The Crafting Con

Ava and I look at each other and laughter bubbles up between us. I grab her hand, twining our fingers together. “Sure you wanna do this?”

She beams up at me, squeezing my palm. “Wild Pokémon couldn’t keep me away.”

We pile into the truck, Ava sandwiching between Hiro and me. She takes out her phone, connecting it to the truck’s radio, and soon the Alkaline Trio’s version of “Movin’ Right Along” is pumping through the speakers. The air inside the truck’s cab is absolutely electric, and any lingering anxiety over the upcoming workshop disappears.

I feel invincible.

What could possibly go wrong?

Everything is going wrong. Two of the hot glue guns aren’t working, a cup of blue paint is spilled all over the floor—which is carpeted—and an obnoxiously loud dude in a Goku cosplay keeps complaining about the fact that the workshop is being run by, and I quote, snot-nosed brats rather than the Great and Mighty Grady Wells.

I take a deep breath in, willing myself to stay calm in the face of the latter.

“Grady regrets not being here, but unfortunately, something came up at the last minute. He asked me to cover for him so he didn’t have to cancel on you guys.” So stop being a jerk and try being grateful for this free event. I busy myself at the other end of the long table, rearranging the hot glue stations so that they’re more easily shared.

Ava catches my eye from the next table over and grins before returning her attention to the fox-eared teen she’s helping. “So you’ll want to trace the outline of this layer before you add glue, just to make sure you’re placing it back down in the exact spot you want it.”

The girl traces the foam with a pencil, her freckled face screwed up in concentration. “Like this?”

“Yep. You’ve got it.” Ava flashes her a thumbs-up and moves on to the next person, looking over their progress and murmuring her approval. She’s such a natural, it’s hard to look away. Only look away I do, because we’re already a half hour into the workshop, and I am one hundred percent certain none of these people are Jenni Messenger, in disguise or not.

I grab a roll of paper towels and start scrubbing away at the paint mess, gaze darting nervously to the door every few seconds. It’s entirely possible she forgot, or got waylaid walking over. It’s fine. I can still present her with the staff during the Q&A portion of her panel. So what if I’ll have to hand it off to some random assistant? At least she’ll have it.

Handing it to her in person, though? And like, actually having a conversation?

It’s almost too epic to bear.

Please show up, please show up, please show up⁠—

The door swings open, and my heart rockets straight into my throat. Sweet Serenity, it’s happening. Jenni Messenger is going to see my work. She’s going to see it and love it and want some more of it, and good lord, why am I singing old Tim McGraw songs? Get it together, man, and don’t you dare embarrass yourself out loud.

I shove the used towels into the trash and wipe my hands on the sides of my jeans. Paste a welcoming grin on my face as someone dressed in the dark green haori and geta sandals of Kisuke Urahara from Bleach walks in. Their face is obscured by the character’s green-and-white-striped bucket hat. “Hi, welcome. Are you here for the⁠—”

The person lifts their head, pushing the hat up off their forehead. “Declan Greene, as I live and breathe. Look at you. All grown up and running the show.”

My stomach plummets all the way to the floor as Archer Aimes steps forward and slaps me on the shoulder. Grinning like an idiot. A gasp whispers from the back of the room, soft and low. Almost inaudible, really, but it rings in my ears like the crashing of a cymbal. I glance over my shoulder, and there’s Ava, half-hidden behind one of the attendees. Her face is pale, her features stricken.

Rage unlike any I’ve ever felt burns in my gut.

How dare he show up here and act like he’s wanted?

My lips part, preparing to launch that anger straight into his face, but then someone else steps inside, and my lungs freeze altogether.

Because beneath the black wig and heavy robes disguising her form, is none other than Jenni Messenger. And she’s cosplaying as a character from the same anime as Ava’s dad. Which is to say, they most likely came together. As friends.

If I tell him off like I want to, Jenni may very well take offense and convince Grady to offer the collab to someone else. But if I don’t…

I shoot another glance back at Ava, who looks a breath away from puking.

Yeah, no question.

This jerkwad is getting an earful. Consequences be damned.

CHAPTER 29

AVA

Zero days until OA Con