Fangirl (32 page)

“How is doing your hair—and maybe putting on some lip gloss—being tricky?”

“It’s like I’m trying to distract him with something shiny.” Cath circled her spoon hand in front of her face, accidentally flicking cottage cheese on her sweater. “He already knows about all this. This is what I look like.” She tried to scrape the cottage cheese off without rubbing it in.

Reagan leaned across the table and grabbed the clip out of Cath’s hair. It slumped over her ears and into her eyes.

“There,” Reagan said. “Now
that’s
what you look like.
Presto chango.
”

“Oh my God,” Cath said, grabbing her clip out of Reagan’s hand and immediately twisting her hair back up. “Was that a Simon Snow reference?”

Now Reagan rolled
her
eyes. “Like you’re the only one who’s read Simon Snow. Like it isn’t a global phenomenon.”

Cath started giggling.

Reagan scowled at her. “What are you eating anyway? Are those peaches in your cottage cheese?”

“Isn’t it disgusting?” Cath said. “You kinda get used to it.”

*   *   *

When they turned down the hallway, they could see Levi sitting against their door. In no circumstances would Cath ever run squealing down the hall into his arms. But she did her version of that—she smiled tensely and looked away.

“Hey,” Levi said, sliding up the door to his feet.

“Hey,” Reagan said.

Levi ruffled the top of his hair sheepishly, like he wasn’t sure which one of them to smile at. “You ready?” he asked Cath while Reagan opened the door.

Cath nodded. “Just … my coat.” She found her coat and slipped it on.

“Scarf,” Levi said. So she grabbed it.

“See you later,” she said to Reagan.

“Probably not,” Reagan said, shaking her hair out in front of her mirror.

Cath felt herself blushing. She didn’t look over at Levi again until they were standing together in front of the elevator. (
Condition: smiling, stable.
) When it opened, he put his hand on her back and she practically jumped in.

“What’s the plan?” she asked.

He grinned. “My plan is to do things that make you want to hang out with me again tomorrow. What’s your plan?”

“I’m going to try not to make an ass of myself.”

He grinned. “So we’re all set.”

She smiled back at him. In his general direction.

“I thought I’d show you East Campus,” Levi said.

“At night? In February?”

The elevator doors opened, and he waited for her to step out. “I got a great deal on an off-season tour. Besides, it’s not
that
cold out tonight.”

Levi led the way outside and started walking away from the parking lot.

“Don’t we have to drive?” Cath asked.

“I thought we’d take the shuttle.”

“There’s a shuttle?”

He shook his head. “City folk.”

The shuttle was a bus, and it rolled up almost immediately. “After you,” Levi said.

Inside, the bus was lit up brighter than daylight and nearly empty. Cath chose a seat and sat down sideways with one knee up, so that there wasn’t room to sit down right next to her. Levi didn’t seem to mind. He swung sideways into the seat in front of her and rested his arm on the back.

“You have very nice manners,” she said.

“My mother would be thrilled to hear that.” He smiled.

“So you have a mother.”

He laughed. “Yes.”

“And a father?”

“And four sisters.”

“Older or younger?”

“Older. Younger.”

“You’re in the middle?”

“Smack-dab. What about you? Are you the older or younger twin?”

She shrugged. “It was a C-section. But Wren was bigger. She was stealing my juice or something. I had to stay in the hospital for three weeks after she went home.”

Cath didn’t tell him that sometimes she felt like Wren was still taking more than her fair share of life, like she was siphoning vitality off Cath—or like she was born with a bigger supply.

Cath didn’t tell him that, because it was dark and depressing. And because, for the moment, she wouldn’t trade places with Wren, even if it meant getting the better umbilical cord.

“Does that mean she’s more dominant?” Levi asked.

“Not necessarily. I mean, I guess she
is.
About most things. My dad says we used to share the bossiness when we were kids. Like I’d decide what we were gonna wear, and she’d decide what we were playing.”

“Did you dress alike?”

“When we were little. We liked to.”

“I’ve helped deliver twins before,” he said. “Calves. It almost killed the cow.”

Cath’s eyes got big. “How did that happen?”

“Sometimes when a bull meets a cow, they decide to spend more time together—”

“How did you end up being there for the delivery?”

“It happens a lot on a ranch. Not twins, but births.”

“You worked on a ranch?”

He raised an eyebrow, like he wasn’t sure whether she was serious. “I
live
on a ranch.”

“Oh,” Cath said. “I didn’t know people lived on ranches. I thought it was like a factory or a business, someplace where you go to work.”

“You’re sure you’re from Nebraska?”

“I’m starting to feel like Omaha doesn’t count.…”

“Well”—he smiled—“I live on a ranch.”

“Like on a farm?”

“Sort of. Farms are for crops. Ranches are for grazing livestock.”

“Oh. That sounds … are there just cows wandering around?”

“Yeah.” He laughed, then shook his head. “No. There are cattle in designated areas. They need a lot of space.”

“Is that what you want to do when you’re done with school? Work on a ranch?”

Something passed over Levi’s face. His smile faded a bit, and he scrunched his eyebrows together. “It’s … not that simple. My mom shares the ranch with my uncles, and nobody really knows what’s going to happen to it when they all retire. There are twelve cousins, so we can’t just split it. Unless we sell it. Which … nobody really wants. Um…” He shook his head again quickly and smiled back up at her. “I’d like to work on a ranch or with ranchers—helping them be better at what they do.”

“Range management.”

“And you try to pretend like you’re not paying attention—hey, this is our stop.”

“Already?”

“East Campus is only two miles from your dorm; it’s shameful that you’ve never been here.”

Cath followed him off the bus. He stopped to thank the driver by name.

“Did you know that guy?” she asked when the bus pulled away.

Levi shrugged. “He was wearing a name tag. Okay—” He stepped directly in front of her and spread a long arm out toward a parking lot. He was smiling like a game show host. “—Cather Avery, as a student of the Agricultural College, a member of the agricultural community, and a citizen of Lincoln, Nebraska, I would like to welcome you to East Campus.”

“I like it,” Cath said, looking around. “It’s dark. There are trees.”

“You can park your snark at the gate, Omaha.”

“Who would have thought that being from Omaha would make me citified?”

“On your right is the East Campus Union. That’s where we keep our bowling alley.”

“Another bowling alley—”

“Don’t get excited, there’s no bowling on the agenda tonight.”

Cath followed Levi along a winding sidewalk path and smiled politely at all the buildings when he pointed to them. He kept touching her back to get her attention or to make sure she was facing the right direction. She didn’t tell him that East Campus (in February, at night) looked a lot like City Campus.

“If we were here during the day,” he said, “we’d stop at the Dairy Store and have some ice cream.”

“Too bad,” she said. “It’s the perfect freezing night for it.”

“Are you cold?” He stopped in front of her and frowned. “Is that how your mother taught you to put on a scarf?”

Her scarf was hanging around her collar. He pulled it snugly against her neck and wrapped it, tucking in the ends. Cath hoped her coat hid the embarrassingly shaky breath she’d taken.

Levi moved his hands up to the side of her head and gently pinched the top of her ears. “Not too bad,” he said, rubbing them. “
Are
you cold?” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to go in?”

She shook her head. “No. I want to see East Campus.”

He grinned again. “As well you should. We haven’t even gotten to the Tractor Museum. It’s closed, of course.”

“Of course.”

“But still worth seeing.”

“Of course.”

After a half hour or so, they stopped to use the bathroom in the Dental College. People were spread out on blue couches in the lounge, studying. Levi bought a cup of hot chocolate from the coffee machine for them to share. Cath had a weird thing about sharing drinks, but she decided it would be stupid to say anything. She’d already kissed him.

When they stepped outside again, the night seemed quieter. Darker.

“I saved the best for last,” Levi said softly.

“What’s that?”

“Patience. This way…”

They walked together along another curving sidewalk until he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Here we are,” he said, pointing down an unshoveled path. “The Gardens.”

Cath tried to look appreciative. You wouldn’t know there was a path here at all if it weren’t for one set of footprints in the melting snow. All she could see were the footprints, some dead bushes, and a few weedy patches of mud.

“It’s breathtaking,” she laughed.

“I knew you’d like it. Play your cards right, and I’ll bring you back during the high season.”

They walked slowly, occasionally stopping to look at educational plaques that were sticking out through the snow. Levi would lean over, clear one off with his sleeve, and read out loud what plants were supposed to be growing there.

“So what we’re really missing out on,” Cath said as they bent together over a sign, “is a variety of native grasses.”

“And wildflowers,” Levi said. “We’re also missing the wildflowers.”

She stepped away from him, and he took her hand. “Wait,” he said. “I think there might be an evergreen over there—”

Cath looked up.

“False alarm,” he said, squeezing her hand.

She shivered.

“Are you cold?”

She shook her head.

He squeezed her hand again. “Good.”

They didn’t talk about any more of the flowers they were missing as they finished their loop through the Gardens. Cath was glad she wasn’t wearing gloves; Levi’s palm was smooth, almost slick, against her own.

They walked over a pedestrian bridge, and she felt her arm pull. He’d stopped to lean against the trusses.

“Hey. Cath. Can I ask you something?”

She stopped and looked back at him. He took her other hand and pulled her closer—not against him or anything, just closer—fingers crossing like they were about to play London Bridge.

Levi was a black-and-white photograph in the dark. All pale skin, gray eyes, streaky hair …

“Do you really think I just go around kissing people all the time?” he asked.

“Sort of,” Cath said. She tried to ignore the fact that she could feel every single one of his fingers. “Up until about a month ago, I thought you were kissing Reagan all the time.”

“How could you think that? She’s seeing, like, five other guys.”

“I thought you were one of them.”

“But I was always flirting with
you.
” He pushed Cath’s hands forward for emphasis.

“You flirt with
everything.
” She could tell that her eyes were popping—her eyeballs actually felt cold around the edges. “You flirt with old people and babies and everybody in between.”

“Oh, I do not.…” He tucked his chin into his neck indignantly.

“You do so,” she said, pushing his hands back. “That night at the bowling alley? You flirted with every human being in the building. I’m surprised the shoe guy didn’t give you his number.”

“I was just being nice.”

“You’re
extra
nice. With
every
one. You go out of your way to make everyone feel special.”

“Well, what’s wrong with that?”

“How is anyone supposed to know that they
are
special? How was I supposed to know you weren’t just being nice?”

“You can’t see that I’m different with you?”

“I thought I could. For like twelve hours. And then … For all I know, yeah, you do go around kissing people. Just to be nice. Because you have this weird thing where you get off on making people feel special.”

Levi winced, his chin almost flat against his neck. “I’ve been hanging around your room, and inviting you to parties, and just trying to be there whenever you might need anything for
four months.
And you didn’t even notice.”

“I thought you were dating my roommate!” she said. “And I repeat, you’re nice to everybody. You give away nice like it doesn’t cost you anything.”

Levi laughed. “It
doesn’t
cost me anything. It’s not like smiling at strangers exhausts my overall supply.”

“Well, it does mine.”

“I’m not you. Making people happy makes me feel good. If anything, it gives me more energy for the people I care about.”

Cath had been trying to maintain eye contact through all this, like a grown-up human being, but it was getting to be too much—she let her eyes skitter down to the snow. “If you smile at everyone,” she said, “how am I supposed to feel when you smile at me?”

He pulled their hands toward him, up, so they were practically over his shoulders. “How
do
you feel when I smile at you?” he asked—and then he did smile at her, just a little.

Not like myself,
Cath thought.

She gripped his hands tightly, for balance, then stood on tiptoe, leaning her chin over his shoulder and brushing her head gently against his cheek. It was smooth, and Levi smelled heavy there, like perfume and mint.

“Like an idiot,” she said softly. “And like I never want it to stop.”

*   *   *

They sat next to each other on the shuttle, looking down at their hands because it was too bright on the bus to look at each other’s faces. Levi didn’t talk, and Cath didn’t worry about why not.