“Should we continue to do the immature thing and not talk about what may or may not be happening between us?” I ask.

  “We just did something for Teenage Stella and Leland, so why not leave the hard decisions for Future Stella and Leland?” he suggests. “At least until the reunion.”

  Is continuing on this path and blurring the lines between fake and real the smart thing to do? Probably not. But if I only have another week like this with Leland, I’m going to savor every moment. Even if it’s dangerously close to something the old hot mess Stella would do. After all, Leland did say if I was a mess, I was his mess.

  “Until the reunion,” I agree. “How about that movie?”

  “One movie and all-you-can-eat candy and popcorn coming right up,” Leland says, waving over his shoulder at the security guard and leading me out into the chilly November night.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Leland: You clearly have no idea what you’re talking about. The salsa from Guaco Taco is way better than the stuff from Rex Mex.

  Me: ‘Better’ is subjective. It’s not that I don’t like the salsa from Guaco, it’s that it was so hot I couldn’t feel my face after eating it.

  My phone pings again and, rather than the rebuttal text I’m expecting, it’s simply a meme of the Mandalorian with the words ‘This is the way’ written across the top.

  I laugh and shake my head, shoving my phone into my jacket pocket. I do a double take when I realize I’ve walked through the entire Village with my eyes on my phone, and I’m now standing in front of FandomTown. My reflection in the store window shows a goofy smile on my face. In the short time Leland has been back in my life, I’ve seen or spoken to him daily. Every time my phone goes off with an incoming call or text, I dive for it, hoping it’s him. I find myself replaying conversations we’ve had, wondering what foods he’ll surprise me with next, and what he’ll say to make me laugh.

  And I have absolutely not been thinking about the kiss we shared the other night at the banquet. We both got swept up in the moment and the nostalgia of being back at the high school. It didn’t mean anything.

  Stepping back, I shift my focus from my reflection to the brown-paper-covered windows. Not much has changed since Felicity and Leland put the sheets up, but there are two new additions on the front door: a small handwritten sign that says ‘Opening Soon!’ and an LGBTQ+ Safe Space sticker.

  With that same goofy smile still plastered to my face, I head around to the alley that leads to the back door of FandomTown, which is propped open an inch in preparation for my arrival. It’s only been a day since I was here, but things inside the store have changed. More shelves have been erected around the perimeter of the main room, and the shelves Felicity and I had stocked with boxes of Funko Pops are now empty.

  Felicity appears from the back room and gives me a tired, rueful smile. “I’ve been overthinking things.”

  “Okay…”

  “Part of me wants to replicate FandomTown in Toronto since it works so well. That whole ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ thing, you know? But the other part of me wants to use this carte blanche opportunity to do something different. I’d still carry most of the same stock because there’s no doubt it sells well, and I’m going to expand the online shop too, but…”

  She blows out a slow breath through pursed lips. Her eyes glaze over, as if she’s pulling up a picture in her mind’s eye. “I want it to be more than just a store. I want to have game nights and viewing parties and maybe even themed gatherings. I was picturing setting up tables with rotating interactive merchandise like puzzles and Lego. We could put out feelers to see what our clientele are interested in and then get experts to host various workshops or seminars related to those topics.”

  Felicity pauses long enough to suck in air, and then barrels on before I can say anything. “The store in Toronto was just that: a store. We had tons of loyal customers, and a few sponsored events, but we never held events of our own. I witnessed plenty of blossoming friendships and even romances between people who randomly struck up conversations over shared interests. That was one of my favorite things to see, and it felt amazing knowing something meaningful was beginning in my little store. I want more here, though. I want this place to be a community, the way the Village itself is a community. People meet in groups here to shop and go on rides and play games. They meet at the bookstore and Cravings and the diner. I want people to feel like they can meet here too.”

  Felicity’s impassioned speech has my throat tightening. I close my eyes, partly to ward off the stinging in my eyes, and partly to envision the possibilities of what FandomTown could be. A gathering place for like-minded people. People who have trouble fitting in elsewhere. People who don’t have anyone in their lives who understand their hobbies and interests.

  “Your store was the first one of its kind I ever visited.” I open my eyes and turn to face Felicity. “I thought I’d died and gone to nerd heaven.”

  She laughs. “That’s exactly what I was going for when I opened it.”

  “Well, you succeeded.” I meander toward the center of the large, open room, holding out my arms and spinning in a half circle. “There was a Star Wars display in the window for May the fourth; that was what drew me in. I almost didn’t go in because I was expecting a bunch of kids, and thought I’d stand out too much.”

  “But then you came inside and realized most of the people were your age?” Felicity guesses.

  I nod, remembering it all so clearly. “A pair of middle-aged women squeeing over the Disney collectables. A guy in his thirties perusing the video games. A few teens checking out the comic books and graphic novels. People of all ages, but mostly adults. I spent over an hour wandering around that day. I saw dozens of things I wanted to buy, but I only let myself get one thing—”

  “An R2-D2 pin,” Felicity says.

  My mouth literally drops open and surprised laughter spills past my lips. “How on earth did you remember that? That was years ago.”

  One side of her mouth quirks up. “I saw you come in that day, but one of my sales associates greeted you before I could. After you’d been there for about twenty minutes, she pointed you out and said she was afraid you might be a shoplifter.”

  More laughter sputters from my mouth. “A shoplifter?”

  “Your posture was really tense and you kept reaching to touch things and then stopping yourself. After watching you for a few minutes, I recognized your body language as a combination of nerves and excitement. I’d seen it countless times from first-time shoppers who weren’t used to stores like FandomTown. I wanted to approach you so many times, but I just let you browse on your own. I thought I might spook you if I tried to engage.”

  I try to picture myself the way Felicity must have seen me that day. By that time, I was unhappy in my marriage, playing the dutiful housewife. I was supposed to be shopping for groceries for a dinner party Lars and I were hosting the next night, so I felt guilty being in FandomTown, and yet I couldn’t pry myself away. There were dozens of things I wanted to buy, but I knew Lars would criticize and likely even mock me if I came home with a single fandom item. That R2-D2 pin was my own silly little form of rebellion; I pinned it inside my purse where no one else could see it. Every time I saw it, it felt like an inside joke of sorts, and it made me smile.

  I shake my head, dislodging the image of that lonely, lost woman. “I love your ideas for the store. More adults need to learn it’s okay to have fun and be silly and play. My old therapist used to tell me I needed to let my inner child out more. She said I’d repressed her, first with my skating, which was a mature interest that required discipline and dedication, and then after my accident when…when I basically gave up for a while.”

  I swallow hard, my gaze darting away from Felicity’s sympathetic expression. “My friends have always loved and supported me, but they’re really the only ones who know about my nerdy tendencies. I didn’t hide that side of myself from my ex at first, and he seemed to accept it…until he didn’t. So I tucked that part of myself away again until I moved back to Bellevue. I feel like I can be myself here. Here, as in Bellevue, and here as in this store, with you.”

  “And me, I hope.”

  Felicity and I spin in unison to face Leland. He’s leaning against the wide doorway between the main part of the store and the back rooms. I wonder how long he’s been there and how much of our conversation he heard. Enough to chime in, anyway.

  I examine my feelings about that as Felicity admonishes him for scaring us. He smiles at me with his brows raised slightly as if waiting for a response. It hits me suddenly that I don’t care if he heard our entire conversation; I have nothing to hide from him. I don’t need to be anyone but myself here. I can safely let both Leland and Felicity see the parts of me I’ve kept hidden from so many people over the years for fear of ridicule.

  “You’ve seen me in my Mandalorian pajamas,” I finally say. “There’s no going back from that.”

  The smile that unfurls across his face is a thing of beauty. Affection mixes with the humor dancing in his eyes, making my heart beat a little faster.

  “Wouldn’t want to go back even if I could,” he says. “I brought lunch if the two of you are ready for a break. You’ve clearly been working hard considering absolutely nothing has changed since I was here earlier.”

  Felicity shoves him toward the back room and I follow, the three of us laughing as we settle at the new table and chairs that arrived the other day. I already miss our floor picnics, but my back is happy about sitting in a proper chair to eat.

  “Mom called me last night to tell me she was going out for coffee this afternoon with your mom and Evie’s mom,” Leland says as he places a wrap and a coffee in front of me.

  “Today? Wow, they didn’t waste any time.”

  “I hope you don’t regret putting our moms back in each other’s orbits,” Felicity says. “I’m imagining one or both of you getting a phone call tonight saying they’ve started planning your wedding or something.”

  My answering laugh sounds nervous even to my own ears, although Leland just smiles softly and digs into his lunch. The three of us talk about FandomTown in Toronto, and Felicity tells us about some of her favorite regular customers she’ll miss and a few she won’t.

  When we finish eating, I brush the crumbs off my hands and sit back in my chair. “All right, boss, put me to work.”

  Felicity is quiet for a minute, her mouth twisted to the side as she thinks. “Why don’t you both take the rest of today off? And the weekend too. I need to get some proper plans drawn up before we move forward. Setting everything up is hard work, especially with moving around shelves and displays. The last thing I want is to get everything in place and then decide I’d prefer it a different way.”

  “We appreciate that,” Leland says dryly.

  “I thought you would,” Felicity says. “Stella, maybe over the weekend you could think about the blog aspect of the website. I was playing around with the idea of having one person run the blog and maybe even our social media, and then have other staff members contribute if they’re inspired to do so—opinion pieces, pictures of their collections, thoughts on specific fandoms, that sort of thing.”

  “I love it.” I make notes in my phone as she speaks. When I’m finished, both she and Leland are looking at me, their expressions unreadable.

  “That’s something you could be in charge of if you let me hire you full-time,” Felicity says. “Just saying. No pressure.”

  I can’t help but laugh at her casual tone paired with an easy little shrug. The thing is, I don’t feel pressured. I know Felicity will accept whatever decision I make, even if it’s to continue job hunting after this temporary gig helping her and Leland set up the shop. A huge part of me can’t understand my own hesitation and why I don’t accept the job right now. The other part of me—the part that has become cautious and tends to overthink—tells me not to rush into any decisions.

  Wanting to change the subject, I ask, “Any plans for this weekend other than mapping out the store’s setup?”

  Felicity’s eyes brighten and she sits up straighter. “I’m going to that ’90s roller skating thing at the Village’s event center on Saturday night. The one your brother is DJing.”

  When I simply stare at her, Felicity’s gaze slides to Leland. Mine follows; Leland shifts around in his seat, avoiding both of our gazes.

  “That sounds like fun,” I say around what feels like a mouthful of sand. “Are you…is it…the Village events center, you said? Is it an invite only thing or…”

  “I think technically it’s open to anyone.” Felicity’s eyes dart between Leland and me, her brows drawn together as if she’s trying to figure something out. “They didn’t advertise it this time since the center hasn’t been open long and they’re testing out different types of events. You know Ivy, right? The co-owner of the Village and the Village’s bookstore? We’ve become friendly since I took over the lease here, and she invited me. She loves ’90s music and she said there used to be this amazing roller rink in town when she was younger, so the night’s theme was her idea.”

  When Leland and I remain silent, Felicity lets out a quiet huff. “Okay, what am I missing here? How did you not know about this? It’s not too late to attend. The three of us could go together if you want.”

  “Oh, I don’t skate,” I say quickly. “Roller skate, I mean. I don’t…I can’t…” I trail off, although the words I’ve left unspoken feel like they’re hanging in the air in front of me, taunting me.

  Felicity lets out a quiet gasp. “I’m so stupid! I’m sorry, Stella, I didn’t even think about—”

  “It’s okay.” I wave a hand as if to bat away her completely unnecessary apology. “It’s such a silly thing, really. I haven’t been on skates of any sort since the accident. Even ones with wheels instead of blades.” The laugh that escapes me sounds slightly crazed, and I cringe. I hop up from the table and sort the takeout containers into piles for recycling and garbage. “I hope you have a blast. My brother is an amazing DJ and ’90s playlists are one of his specialties. You’ll have to take a bunch of pics and show me on Monday, okay?”

  “Of course.” Felicity watches me with wide, uncertain eyes.

  “Let me help you with that,” Leland murmurs, collecting the pile of garbage and putting it in the nearby trashcan while I toss the recycling in the bin. “If you’re ready to leave, I can walk with you to your car.”

  “Get out of here, both of you,” Felicity says lightly. “I’m going to putter around and work on my plans. Being here will help, and if I’m alone I can blast some music, dance around, and let the ideas flow.”

  Leland and I say our goodbyes and leave the store. Neither of us speaks as we make our way down the alley between shops. As soon as we emerge into the main part of the Village, I turn my face toward the weak sunlight, hoping to draw strength from it.

  “Sorry for being weird in there,” I say.

  “Were you being weird? I hadn’t noticed.”

  A quick glance in Leland’s direction shows him looking straight ahead, his hands jammed in his coat pockets, and a smile flirting with the corners of his mouth.

  I make a humming sound, but don’t say anything else.

  “Do you miss it?” he asks. “Skating? I know it’s been a long time.”

  “Almost twenty years. Sometimes it feels like another lifetime or like a really elaborate dream.”

  It’s not a direct answer to his question, but saying ‘yes, I miss it’ would be the understatement of the century. I miss everything about it. The sounds: skates gliding over ice, the heavy silence of the rink first thing in the morning, the echo and boom of my favorite playlist being blasted over the speakers. The ever-present chill in the air and the faintly chemical-laden smell of the rink. The wind in my hair and against my skin as I flew across the ice. I think the sensation of flying, of complete and utter freedom, is what I miss most. That, and the feeling I got when I learned something new or nailed a particularly difficult bit of choreography.

  Aside from all of that, I miss the life I had dreamed of. The possibilities. I try so hard not to think about it, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder what life would be like now if I hadn’t been in that accident and I’d been able to carry on skating. Would I have taken my coach up on her suggestion to try pairs skating? Would I have eventually trained for the Olympics? Would I have tried out for Disney on Ice like my friends joked I should do? I would have made an amazing Belle, and it would have been fun bringing joy and laughter to people, plus getting to travel all over North America.

  “I went to visit you,” Leland says suddenly. “In the hospital. After your accident.”

  His words cause my feet to stop working. I trip over nothing and Leland surges forward, catching me before I can fall flat on my face. Even when I’m upright and steady again, he remains in front of me, gripping both of my arms just above the elbows.

  “One day after basketball practice, Wes asked me to drive him to the hospital to visit you,” Leland says. “You’d been there for a couple weeks at that point. He didn’t say a word the whole drive there and, when I pulled up, he didn’t get out immediately. After some prodding, he confessed it was torture seeing you like that. He said he had to psyche himself up every single time, but he had to see you. He said he thought sometimes you didn’t even know he was there because you were sleeping or you were so out of it from the heavy drugs, but he needed you to know he was there and that he loved you.”

  Tears stream down my face. I don’t make any move to wipe them away; the movement would likely dislodge Leland’s grip on me, and I need that steady pressure to hold me together right now.

  “After he told me all that, I put the car back in drive and looped around to the parking lot. He gave a half-hearted protest when I told him I’d go in and wait in the waiting room for however long he wanted to stay. When we got up to your room, Evie and Hollie were just leaving, and they suggested I go in with Wes, said it seemed to help you to have people around. I only stayed a few minutes. I did most of the talking, just about random stuff, I don’t even remember what. Then I left and waited outside for Wes.”