Ship It by Britta Lundin

Author:Britta Lundin [Lundin, Britta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781368016988
Publisher: Freeform
Published: 2018-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

I CLOSE THE laptop.

Okay.

All right.

So that’s fanfiction.

WE MAKE IT back to our room, and I’m so busy worrying about what Tess is thinking that I don’t even remember that my freaking mother might be in our room when we get there. I open the door and say, “Mom?” but there’s no answer. She must still be out. Where does she even go all day?

The hotel Ms. Greenhill got for us is absurdly nice, and seeing it now, through Tess’s eyes, I’m a little embarrassed of it. A “suite” is, I guess, what it’s called.

“Nice room,” Tess says, impressed, putting her backpack down by one of the beds.

“Yeah, we don’t pay for it or anything,” I feel obligated to say so she doesn’t think I’m rich. “Our food is free, too. We can order room service if you want….”

“Do you know how lucky you are?” she asks, running her hand along the shiny countertops.

“I do,” I say.

“Not just the room. This whole trip. Meeting Forest and Rico. Getting to know them, being ridiculously lucky enough to be the one chosen for this out of everyone….”

I feel a pang of guilt because I’m here and a lot of other people wish they would’ve won instead of me. All I can do is try to represent the fans the best I can and use my brief position adjacent to Jamie to try to get him to see the show from our point of view.

“Because you’re super lucky,” Tess repeats. She must be warm because she takes her shawl off, and now she’s all bare wide arms.

“Let me give you the tour of the place,” I mumble and move away from her—all the way across the room—and open the curtains. “This is our amazing view… of that strip mall over there.”

She laughs and comes over to look out the windows, her shoulder nudging up against mine. Why is she undressing? Why is she touching me? Is she just warm? Or is it a secret signal? I’m not good with secret signals. I’m better with clear and direct communication. Surely she’s picked that up by now. I close the curtains and move back across the room to the kitchenette.

“This is the kitchenette. It’s mostly useless, but I use the coffeepot to make tea. Do you like tea? I have peppermint, chamomile, green, Earl Grey—it might be too late for Earl Grey, I guess, but I have it.” I’m rambling. I know I’m rambling, but I can’t stop myself. “Do you want some? I’ll make some. Is mint okay?”

I pick up the coffeepot and hold it up to show her. She’s still over by the windows, watching me with a funny look on her face. OH GOD, WHY AM I LIKE THIS? I DIDN’T ASK TO BE LIKE THIS.

“Claire…” she says slowly, “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but we don’t have to do…anything.”

I’m going to puke. What does she mean? Does that mean what I think it means? I’m going to faint. I’m gonna pukefaint.

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