Kindred Spirits (4 page)

“What’s your favorite Star Wars movie?” Gabe asked. Uncharacteristically. Elena looked over at him.

“You might as well ask me who my favorite child is,” Troy said.

“Do you have children?” Elena asked him.

“I meant hypothetically,” Troy said. He exhaled hard. “This is tough, this is really tough. I’m going to have to go with
The Empire Strikes Back
.”

The next half-hour was taken up by Troy justifying his choice. At several points he considered changing his answer, but he kept landing back on Hoth.

“What about you, Elena?” Gabe finally asked.

She frowned at him. Suspicious. “
Empire
,” she said. “For all the reasons Troy just said. Plus the kissing. What’s yours?”

“
Episode Six
,” Gabe said.

“
Jedi
?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Solid choice,” Troy said. “Very solid.”

Gabe didn’t expound; instead he turned back to Elena. “So, what’s your least favorite?”

“Why do I have to go first?”

“You don’t have to,” he said.

She held her coffee cup in both hands. “No, it’s fine.
Jedi
. I still love it. But yeah.”

Troy acted like he’d been shot. “
Jedi
?”

Gabe was shocked, too. “You think
Episode Six
is worse than
Episode Two
? Worse than Anakin and Padmé frolicking among the shaaks?”

“The shaaks!” Troy said. “Geonosis!”

Those sounded like nonsense words to Elena. She didn’t want to be found out. She bit her lip. “I wasn’t really considering the prequels. You said least
favorite
, not
worst
.
”

“Ahhhh,” Troy said, “you did say that.”

“True,” Gabe said.

They moved on to Troy’s least favorite (
III
— “the violence just struck me as mindless”) and then to Gabe’s (
II
—“love on the fields of
Naboo”).

And then Troy had to take a call from his girlfriend.

“So,” Gabe said to Elena, “who’s your favorite character?”

“What are you doing?” Elena said.

“Talking about Star Wars.”

“Why?”

“I thought this was what you wanted.”

“So now you’re trying to give me what I want?”

Gabe sighed. “Not exactly. Just . . . maybe you were right.”

“When?” she asked.

“When you said that the point of being in this line was to be excited about Star Wars with other people who love Star Wars.”

“Of course I was right,” Elena said. “That’s obviously why people camp out like this. Nobody leaves their house to sit outside a theater for a week just so they can
ignore other fans.”

“So I was getting in my own way,” Gabe admitted. “OK?”

“OK,” Elena said carefully.

“So, who’s your favorite character?” he asked again.

“You’ll probably think it’s basic.”

“I’m not a jerk,” he said.

“People who are jerks don’t get to decide whether they’re jerks. It’s left up to a jury of their peers.”

“I disagree. I do not identify as a jerk, so I’m not going to act like one.”

“Fine,” Elena said. “Princess Leia.”

“Great choice,” he said.

She was still suspicious. “What about you?”

The thing about Gabe being nice to Elena for unknown, suspicious reasons was . . . he was still being nice to her. And interesting. And funny. And good company.

She kept forgetting that it was all an act and possibly a ruse—and just enjoyed herself.

They were
all
enjoying themselves.

“Excuse me,” someone said, interrupting a lively discussion about whom they’d each buy a drink for in the cantina.

The whole line looked up. There were two women standing on the sidewalk with bakery boxes. One of them cleared her throat. “We heard that people were camping out for Star Wars . .
.”

“That’s us!” Troy said, only slightly less enthusiastically than he’d said it yesterday.

“Where’s everybody else?” she asked. “Are they around the back? Do you do this in shifts?”

“It’s just us,” Elena said.

“We’re the Cupcake Gals,” the other woman said. “We thought we’d bring Star Wars cupcakes? For the line?”

“Great!” Troy said.

The Cupcake Gals held on tight to their boxes.

“It’s just . . .” the first woman said, “we were going to take a photo of the whole line, and post it on Instagram . . .”

“I can help you there!” Elena said. Those cupcakes were not going to just walk away. Not on Elena’s watch.

Elena took a selfie of their line, the Cupcake Gals and a theater employee all holding Star Wars cupcakes—it looked like a snapshot from a crowd— and promised to post it across all
her channels. The lighting was perfect. Magic hour, no filter necessary.
#CupcakeGals #TheForceACAKEns #SalaciousCrumbs

The Gals were completely satisfied and left both boxes of cupcakes.

“This is the first time I’ve been happy that there were only three of us,” Elena said, helping herself to a second cupcake. It was frosted to look like Chewbacca.

“You
saved
these cupcakes,” Gabe said. “Those women were going to walk away with them.”

“I know,” Elena said. “I could see it in their eyes. I would’ve stopped at nothing to change their minds.”

“Thank God they were satisfied by a selfie then,” Gabe said. His cupcake looked like Darth Vader, and his tongue was black.

“I’m really good at selfies,” Elena said. “Especially for someone with short arms.”

“Great job,” Troy said. “You’ll make someone a great provider someday.”

“That day is today,” Elena said, leaning back against the theater wall. “You’re both welcome.”

“Errrggh,” Troy said, kicking his feet out. “Cupcake coma.”

“How many did you eat?” Gabe asked.

“Four,” Troy said. “I took down the Jedi Council. Time for a little midday siesta—the Force
asleepens
.”

It was the warmest day yet. Elena wondered if she could take a nap too. Maybe not. It seemed even weirder to be asleep on the street in the middle of the day than at night.

“You hate the prequels more than anyone I’ve met,” Gabe said, licking his thumb. “These cupcakes are really good. You should tweet about them again.”

“I don’t hate the prequels,” she said.

“We ranked our top thirty characters, and the only prequel character you listed was Queen Amidala.”

That was the only prequel character Elena
knew
. . .

“I mean you must really
hate
them,” he said.

“All right,” she said, “I feel like I owe you a debt, after you helped me last night—”

“You do,” Gabe said. “Not quite a life debt. But I did save you from peeing your pants
twice.
”

“So I’m going to tell you a secret,” she said. “But you have to promise not to use it against me.”

Gabe reached over Elena’s legs to get another cupcake. “How could you possibly have a dark secret involving the Star Wars sequels? Are you responsible for Jar Jar Binks?”

“Do you promise?” she asked.

“Sure, I promise.”

“I’ve never seen the prequels.”

“
What?
” Gabe spit crumbs all over both of them. Elena shook them out of her ponytail. “How could that happen?”

“It didn’t happen,” she said. “I never saw them.”

“Was it against your religion? Are you some sort of Star Wars purist?”

“Sort of,” Elena said. “My dad was. He wouldn’t let me see them.”

“Did he lock you in a tower?”

“No. He just told me they were terrible. He said they’d . . .
corrupt
my love of Star Wars.”

“And you never thought of watching them anyway?”

“Not really. It’s my
dad
.”

“How does he feel about the sequels? Are you here undercover?”

“I don’t know,” Elena said. “I haven’t heard from him.”

Gabe looked confused.

“He’s sort of in Florida.”

“‘Sort of in Florida’ is our band name,” Gabe said.

“Don’t tell Troy,” she said.

“I won’t. He’d probably make us watch them all on his phone.”

Elena looked down. “Now you’re probably thinking that I really am a fake geek girl.”

“I try not to think that about anybody,” he said. “If anything, this makes you an uber Star Wars nerd. A Star Wars hipster. You’re like one of those people who only
listens to music on vinyl.”

“Do you think I should watch the prequels?” she asked.

“How would I know? I mean, I’d watch them. I couldn’t know there was more Star Wars out there that I hadn’t tapped. You could have double the Star Wars in your
life.”

“Did the prequels corrupt your love of Star Wars?”

Gabe gave her a very Han Solo-like grin. “It was already corrupt, babe.”

They both laughed. This was not the Gabe she’d been sitting next to for two days.

“I don’t know,” he said, more seriously. “I saw the prequels before the original trilogy.”

“What?” It was Elena’s turn to be shocked. “That’s all wrong. That’s a perversion.”

“It is not!” Gabe said. “I think it’s how George Lucas intended it. It’s the higher order.”

“George Lucas doesn’t even know what he intended,” Elena said. “He can’t even decide who shot first.”

“I saw the prequels in the theater,” Gabe said. “When I was a kid. I thought they were awesome.”

“And now?” she asked.

“They’re my first love,” he said. “I can’t be objective.”

Elena hugged herself. “I don’t think I’ll ever see them. I feel like I’d be letting my dad down. Like he’s going to show up some day, and ask whether I’ve
seen
Attack of the Clones
, and if I say yes, he’ll take off again.”

Gabe looked like he was thinking. “So . . .” he said, “you won’t mind if I spoil them for you.”

“I guess not,” she said. “I mean, I already know what happens.”

Gabe sat up straight and held both hands up between them. “
Turmoil has engulfed the Great Republic . . .
”

When Troy woke up from his nap, he didn’t even ask what they were doing. He just joined in. His Yoda impression was
uncanny
.

“I knew you hadn’t seen the prequels,” Troy confided in Elena. “There were some pretty obvious gaps in your understanding of the Galactic Senate.”

Troy’s girlfriend, Sandra, brought them all pizza that night, and when she got there she joined the dramatic re-enactment. She said they had to rewind so she could elaborate for Elena on
how dashing Obi-Wan was. “
Ewan McGregor
,” she groaned. “I made Troy grow a beard after the second movie.”

“I also grew a Padawan braid,” Troy said.

Troy and Sandra and Gabe acted out a lightsaber battle that brought tears to Elena’s eyes, probably because they were all three singing the John Williams music. (Elena knew the prequel
music; she’d listened to all the scores.)

Some movie-goers stopped on their way out of the theater to watch. Elena snapped a photo when Gabe fell to the ground. (
#Epic #KnightFall #OnLine)
Everyone clapped.

When the crowd cleared, Elena noticed her mom parked at the curb. Elena jumped up and ran over.

“Are you coming home?” her mom asked.

“Nope,” Elena said. “Do you want to get in line?”

“No way. You get this craziness from your dad, not me.”

The night was clear and cold. Sandra had talked Manager Mark into refilling Elena’s hot-water bottle at the coffee machine. Elena hugged it under her sleeping bag.

“Hey,” Gabe said, “I got you something.”

“What?”

He handed her a movie-theater cup, one of the new Star Wars ones. “Tonight you can pee in a collector’s item.”

“Ha ha,” Elena said. “Did we eat all the cupcakes?”

Gabe handed her the box. There was one left. A very lonely C-3PO. Elena picked up her phone and took a photo of it. Then went to Instagram.
#LastDroidStanding

Her phone battery was still seventy per cent charged, and she only had twenty-four hours to get through, so Elena decided to indulge herself by thumbing through her Instagram feed, reading the
comments on her posts from the last few days.

Her friends had all hearted them and left funny comments. God, Elena missed her friends. (Not that Troy and Gabe weren’t great. She’d definitely miss them.) (Even Gabe.) (Especially
Gabe.)

Her first post, from Monday, had the most comments. The photo of the line.

“
Is that Gabe?
” someone had posted.

“
GABERS
.”

“
It’s Geekle!
” Elena’s friend Jocelyn had posted. “
ICKLE GEEKLE
.”

Geekle?
Elena thought.

She quickly texted Jocelyn: “
Who’s Geekle?
”

“
Geekle!
” Jocelyn texted back. “
From Spanish class. He sits at the back. He’s kind of geeky.
”

“
Is that why you call him Geekle?
”

“
IDK
,” Jocelyn sent. “
ICKLE GEEKLE. Tell him I said hi.
”

Elena looked at Gabe. He did look sort of familiar. Now that she thought about it. Jocelyn had nicknames for everyone, usually mean ones. Ickle Geekle, whatever that meant, was mild. Jocelyn
herself wasn’t very mean, once you got to know her. She just thought she was funnier than she actually was. And she couldn’t stand silence. She’d fill every second with stupid
jokes.

Gabe. From Spanish class. Elena pictured him without his peacoat . . . While she was staring, Gabe took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“You don’t wear glasses!” she blurted.

“What?” he said, putting his glasses back on.

“In school,” she said. “You don’t wear glasses.”

Gabe’s face fell. “No. I don’t.”

Gabe. Geekle. His Spanish name was
Gabriel.
She’d never talked to him; she’d never really looked at him. (Which sounded worse than it was—Elena
didn’t go around
looking
at people. She minded her own business!)

This was bad. This was very bad.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Why?”

“I didn’t recognize you.”

“Why would you?” he said.

“We’re in class together!”