The Pros of Cons by Alison Cherry, Lindsay Ribar, Michelle Schusterman (25)

We figured editing our mini-podcast wouldn’t take more than a few hours, but Phoebe stocked up on enough crepes to get us through a whole day, just in case. And it was a good thing, too; we ended up working right up until our deadline.

Well, working was maybe not the most accurate description of what we were doing. There was definitely work involved: figuring out how to make an actual story out of the dialogue we’d recorded (mostly Callie and me), and figuring out which audio clips to add, and when, to create the effect we wanted (mostly Phoebe).

But along the way, we kept getting distracted by, say, turning on actual episodes of A Thousand Words for inspiration (Callie), or sharing cool facts about the percussion instruments we were hearing in our clips (Phoebe), or imagining what it might be like to kiss Merry and totally zoning out on what was actually happening in the room (me). Luckily, though, we always got each other focused again. We were a good team.

At quarter to four, we stopped working and played back our whole finished podcast, just once, to make sure we hadn’t done anything horribly stupid in the editing process. Five minutes later, the recording ended—and for a second, the three of us just kind of sat there, smiling stupidly at each other.

Then Phoebe said, “Well done, ladies!”

And that was it. That was our project, finished.

I emailed the file to the moderators. We each ate one last crepe. We went through our suitcases and picked outfits for the Creativity Corner: a dress printed with hot air balloons for Callie, jeans and a red shirt for Phoebe, and jeans and the puffy-paint I <3 Harry Potter shirt for me. Yes, I’d already worn it once, and yes, there was apparently some unspoken set of convention rules that made my shirt uncool, but screw that, right? I loved that shirt, and the pits didn’t smell or anything, so I was going to wear it.

And then? Off we went, down to the A-wing ballroom.

I had a flimsy plan in mind for if we needed to sneak Phoebe and Callie in, but it turned out not to be necessary; for whatever reason, the security people waved us through without even a glance at our badges. So we snagged a trio of seats and waited for the show to begin.

At five o’clock on the nose, the house lights went down. Cheers rose up from the audience. And a short black girl in Hogwarts robes walked out on stage: Beth, the same person who’d moderated Soleils panel on that first day. My stomach twisted at the reminder of my ex–best friend—but I told it to shut up, because this wasn’t about Soleil, not anymore. This was about me and my two new friends.

Beth explained that she would be the emcee for the event, and explained how it worked. There were five categories: Visual Arts, Prose, Audio/Video (anything that starred fans themselves instead of featuring clips from the source material; this was where our podcast would be), Fanvids (clips of movies and TV shows and things, set to a song, like a music video), and Performances. And there were five judges: one who specialized in each category.

We got to see all the Visual Arts stuff first, projected in a slideshow on a screen that rolled down from the ceiling above the stage. And then there were fanfic readings, and, okay, I’ll be honest, I didn’t really hear or see any of them. Because as soon as they started showing stuff, my stomach erupted into butterflies, and all I could do was sit there between Phoebe and Callie, wait for our podcast, and hope there wouldn’t be a mass exodus from the ballroom as it played because we sucked so much.

The Audio/Video category was up next. There were some filks—people rewriting lyrics to popular songs so they were about fandom stuff instead of whatever they’d originally been about—and some original songs. And some seriously cool videos, some of which looked professionally edited—including this one called “Look, Ma, We Fixed It,” where two girls cross-dressed to re-create a scene from Sherlock that, in their version, ended with Sherlock and John making out.

And then Beth said, “Our final piece in Audio/Video is called ‘A Thousand Feels: A Mini-Podcast in the Style of A Thousand Words,’ created by Callie Buchannan, Phoebe Byrd, aaaand Vanessa Montoya-O’Callaghan.”

I reached out and took my new friends’ hands. Callie laced her fingers through mine. Phoebe squeezed so hard it almost hurt.

Here we go, I thought.

A Thousand Feels:

A Transcript

There wasn’t a mass exodus. People actually clapped. Sure, that didn’t necessarily mean anything, since people were clapping for literally everything—but there was something super cool about applause for a thing that I’d helped create.

Still, I couldn’t help looking back and forth between my friends and asking, “It’s actually good, right? I’m not just imagining that it’s good?”

“Oh yeah, it’s good,” said Callie.

“It’s great,” said Phoebe. “We’re amazing.”

The Fanvids category was next, but while there was some stuff in there that I liked (a couple Harry Potter vids, plus a seriously amazing Disney Princesses one, and even a really short Wonderlandia one), most of them weren’t fandoms that I knew very well. So I clapped politely along with everyone else, and waited for the Performances category to start. That was going to be fun.

Or so I thought, until Beth announced the first piece in the category: “Our first entry is called ‘The Many Loves of Draco Malfoy,’ created by Aimee Hughes, Danielle Kozlov, Marziya Malik, aaaand Soleil.”

No. No no no. No way. She wasn’t here. Our entry had been under my name, not hers. I’d misheard.

Except then Phoebe said, “Are you kidding me?” so loudly that a couple people turned around to glare at her—so, no, I hadn’t misheard.

“Gross,” said Callie.

My legs tensed with the desire to stand up and get the hell out of there as fast as I could. But I stayed in my seat. I had to. This was my convention as much as hers.

“She’s friends with the emcee,” I told them. “Bet you anything that’s how she got herself an entry.”

Callie gave me a sympathetic smile. Phoebe rolled her eyes and snorted.

A Beyoncé song started playing. No, wait, not solo Beyoncé. Destiny’s Child. “Say My Name.” A chorus of laughter rippled through the audience, because of course she’d pick something like that. It was classic and funny and ironic, all at the same time, and hey, you had to give Soleil this much: she knew how to please a crowd.

“Oh my god,” murmured Phoebe, as Soleil and her posse took the stage, one by one.

Soleil was dressed as Draco, in Slytherin robes and a spiky blond wig, because obviously she had to be the title character. Danielle was dressed as Harry. Marziya was Professor Snape, and Aimee was … Luna Lovegood, maybe? Or Fleur Delacour? I couldn’t actually tell which.

The dance was exactly what Soleil had described, back when she’d first told me the idea. A totally overwrought dance of epic, unrequited longing—made even funnier when Soleil’s three new besties changed costumes offstage and came out again dressed as Hermione, Ron, and Sirius Black. And then as Neville, Tonks, and Lucius.

Basically, it was a tribute to every fanficcer who’d ever shipped Draco Malfoy with anyone, and the audience clearly loved it, and the thing was, I probably would’ve loved it, too, except that Soleil’s performance kind of ruined the whole thing. Not only because it was Soleil, either, although that definitely didn’t help. The way she stretched and writhed and grimaced was so over the top, so incredibly look-at-me-look-at-me, that it probably would’ve made me want to puke even if we were still friends.

“Not as good as our podcast,” whispered Callie when it was over, as everyone clapped. Phoebe grinned. I tried to grin back, but mainly I just tried to believe her.

The other performances were a blur after that.

But I pulled it together when Beth came back out on stage and announced that the judges were deliberating—because that was when she asked all the contestants to gather beside the stage so we could line up and take a bow.

Phoebe shouldered her way through the crowd, Callie and me trailing in her wake. And when Beth called the Audio/Video contestants up on the stage, and we all lined up and waved at the crowd as they applauded us, I wasn’t thinking about Soleil at all.

Then the Performances contestants took their bows, too, and Soleil and her Fangirl Trio stepped off the stage—and came right over to me. She crossed her arms over her chest, smiling smugly as she approached, and the urge to flee crept over me again. But, again, I didn’t. Because I could feel Callie and Phoebe hovering right behind me, like Soleil’s three minions were hovering behind her—except, no, not like that at all. Callie and Phoebe weren’t minions. They were actual friends.

“Good performance,” I told Soleil, because someone had to take the high road, right?

“Thanks,” she said, eyeing my puffy-paint shirt with a smirk. “Same to you—although, wow, what was that I heard in your little podcast? Can’t stop using my voice for your own benefit, can you?”

“Literally nobody benefits from your voice,” said Phoebe. “And that’s literally as in literally.”

“Oh yeah. I remember you now.” Soleil spared a second to level a death glare at Phoebe, then looked back at me. “Well, whatever. It’s not like you even used the good parts of my interview, anyway.”

I snorted. I couldn’t help it. “Your alternative facts about Marty Green. Right.”

“Aw, Marty. I’ll tell him you said hi, okay?” She smirked. “By the way, how are all those novels of yours coming along?”

Behind her, Danielle and Marziya exchanged a look. I wondered what she’d told them about me and my writing—but it didn’t actually matter, did it? Especially not after my pitch session this afternoon.

“Actually, pretty great,” I said. “I showed something new to that literary agent again today. She said it was a huge improvement. Then she gave me her business card so I can send her my manuscript when it’s done.”

Behind me, someone murmured, “Aw yeah, she did.” Phoebe, probably.

In front of me, Soleil’s eyes were practically bugging out; this was clearly not the answer she’d expected. If she were a cartoon character, steam would be coming out of her ears.

So obviously, I kept going: “And actually, it’s all because of you. You said that thing about living my life and writing about what I know. So that’s what I’ve been trying to do. And it turns out you were right. So hey. Thanks.”

“I was— What’s that supposed to mean, I was right?” She sounded so confused. I didn’t blame her. Here she was, trying to insult me, and I totally wasn’t taking the bait.

“It means,” I said slowly, “that you and Wendi gave me constructive criticism, and I took it. You should try it sometime.”

Now she looked confused and pissed off. My work here was done.

So I turned to my actual friends and said, “Come on, guys. They’re about to announce the awards.”

We found a spot to stand in, far enough away from Soleil that I wouldn’t be tempted to look at her. And as Beth came back out on stage accompanied by the judges, Phoebe leaned over and whispered, “You? Are my hero.”

There were eight awards in total. First, each of the five judges gave a Best in Category award to a piece in their own specialty category. (In the Audio/Visual category, our podcast lost to some song about a character from Supernatural. Weird choice, but whatever.) Then, all five judges voted on first, second, and third place for the overall competition.

Third place went to a Doctor Who fanfic. I didn’t really have an opinion about it, since everything before the Audio/Visual category had been kind of a blur—but when the author went up on stage to accept her yellow ribbon, she looked like she was actually crying from happiness. So that was nice.

Second place went to the Disney Princesses fanvid. I cheered pretty loudly for that; it had been one of my favorites. The vidder, who was named BrandyBuckBeak and dressed as Captain America, complete with the mask and the shield, gave the crowd a patriotic salute as Beth pinned a red ribbon to his chest.

First place went to a video called “Missing Scenes From Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,” which consisted almost exclusively of footage of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black sneaking away from Order meetings so they could make out. The actors who played Remus and Sirius—who I was pretty sure were also the Sherlock and John who’d placed third at the Karaoke Extravaganza—were pretty awesome, and the whole thing looked like a blooper reel from an actual movie. I wasn’t at all surprised that it had won.

So yeah, Soleil’s stupid dance thing didn’t win anything, which, yay. And our podcast didn’t win anything, either—but I didn’t even care that much, actually. All the stuff I did care about had already happened.

After the ceremony was over, Phoebe said she had to catch up with a couple of her percussion people, and Callie said she had to find her dad. Which was fine, since they both promised to meet me back here for the Farewell Ball—but as soon as they left, I started feeling a little glum. I’d spent the whole day with them, and it was weird not to be around them now, even if it was only for a little while.

Someone tapped my shoulder. Soleil, I thought, and tensed. But when I turned around, it wasn’t Soleil at all. It was Captain America, wearing the second-place ribbon. The mask had come off—which meant now I could see who it was underneath. Dirty-blond hair and dimples and cuteness and oh god.

“Hey,” said Merry, grinning their face off.

“Oh, hey!” I said. “Oh. Oh, that was you? That Disney Princess fanvid?”

“That was me,” said Merry proudly.

“It was, um. It was really good.” Ugh, my tongue felt sluggish and horrible and completely incapable of making words.

“So was yours,” said Merry. “That was some of the coolest editing work I’ve ever heard. I’m really surprised you guys didn’t win anything.”

My face went hot, and I had to change the subject, because if they gave me one more compliment, I would explode right there. Fortunately, that was when someone in a convention center T-shirt came over and told us we had to clear the room.

“So, hey, what was that song?” I asked, as we moved with the crowd toward the door. “The one in your princess vid? I don’t think I know it.”

“You don’t know Meredith Brooks?” said Merry, their eyebrows shooting up. “Come on, that’s only the greatest song of all time! How have you been alive this long without knowing that one?”

“I haven’t been alive that long,” I said, which was probably number one on the list of the absolute dumbest things I could have said and where, where, where had my brain gone?

“It’s been my personal anthem since I was about eight.” Merry waggled their eyebrows. “And I know you’re older than eight.”

“Seventeen,” I said.

“Only two years younger than me,” they said. “Sweet. Plenty of time for you to learn about important music before you go to college.”

“Are … uh, are you in college?”

They nodded. “I’m a freshman at Valencia. Right here in the great city of Orlando.”

“Valencia?” I said. “Seriously? I’m totally applying there next year! I mean, a bunch of other places, too, but—that’s so cool.”

“What about now?” Merry asked. “Where are you from?”

“Right here in the great city of Orlando,” I replied. “Well, technically Winter Park, but nobody who isn’t from here knows where that is, so I usually say Orlando.”

There was a pause. My stomach fluttered, and Merry’s smile widened. “We’re neighbors.”

I nodded. We were out in the hall now, surrounded by a rapidly thinning crowd, and Merry didn’t seem like they had any intention of moving any farther.

Pause.

Pause.

Awkward, awkward pause.

I wasn’t allowed to just, like, grab them and kiss them right here in the hallway, right? That wasn’t a thing people could do?

“Hey,” said Merry. “So … I overheard you and Soleil talking before the awards got announced. It sounded like— Okay, stop me if this is none of my business, but … did you guys have a fight?”

“Oh. Yeah.” I sighed. “It turns out she’s a slightly horrible person.”

Merry didn’t look remotely surprised. “Wanna talk about it?”

I’d done more than enough talking last night. So I just shook my head and said, “It’s a long story.”

“Well, are you okay, at least?”

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “I think so.”

“Good,” said Merry. “Because I’m about to be really awkward at you, and it’ll go way better if you’re in a good mood.”

“… Oh yeah?”

“So, um. That thing I said before.”

“What thing?” I said.

“When you were interviewing me.”

Oh god. That thing. I pushed my glasses up my nose and tried very hard not to die.

“I was just sort of wondering,” they went on, “if you maybe—”

“Yes!” The word exploded out of me before I even knew it was there. “Ilikeyoutoo. Yesyesyes.”

So apparently I was a lunatic. Cool.

Merry burst out laughing. “I was actually going to ask you something else. But that’s very good to know.”

My face was on fire. Probably literally. “Uh. Sorry, what were you gonna ask?”

“If you’d go to the Farewell Ball with me. As my date. I mean, I figure we’re both going anyway, but we could maybe walk in together, at least? Maybe dance together …?”

“I’d … yes. That’d be awesome.”

Merry nodded thoughtfully. “And maybe … maybe I could get your number? Text you after the con is over so I can ask you out for coffee?”

Was this seriously happening?

“Probably a good idea,” I said. “And just in case you were worried, I’m gonna say yes.”

Merry put their hand dramatically to their chest. “Oh, thank heavens.”

“Especially to the ball part,” I added. “Especially if you’re up for, say, dancing together where we can be sure Soleil will see us.”

“Make her jealous?” said Merry. “I like it. And I can be like ‘Here’s my super-hot girlfriend Vanessa!’ really loudly where she can overhear.”

I laughed. “And here’s my super-hot … uh …”

Yikes. Was there a gender-neutral version of the girlfriend/boyfriend thing?

Merry raised their eyebrows. Not like a challenge. More like they were waiting to see what I’d come up with.

“My super-hot personfriend,” I said at last.

Merry laughed again. “Aw, I love that! Yeah, I’ll totally be your fake personfriend for the evening.”

“Fake for now.” Great. Yet another dumb thing that I probably shouldn’t have said.

But Merry nodded. “For now. Let’s go out for coffee next week, and then see what happens.”

I pushed my glasses up again. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Meantime,” they said, “wanna get something to eat before the dance?”

“You’re not, um, eating with Tiff and … what was her name again?”

“Jaya,” said Merry. “And nah, they’re waiting in line for autographs. Not really my scene. We’re all gonna meet up later. So … dinner?”

I checked my phone. It was a little past eight, which meant I had plenty of time before I was supposed to meet back up with Callie and Phoebe. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

“And maybe some ice cream after?” they said.

“That sounds good, too.”

“And also maybe you’ll let me kiss you?”

“That—” I cut myself off, realizing what Merry’d just said. I swallowed hard. “Yeah. That … yes, that also sounds … very good. Very.”

Merry reached up and touched a finger to my cheek, right above my jaw. It was a single, simple point of contact, but it sent little zings of yes yes yes all through me, and suddenly my whole body was awake, alert, and ready.

I’d written the words over and over again, in tons of different fanfics. Bodies being drawn together like magnets. Leaning closer without meaning to. All that stuff. I’d written it, but I’d never actually understood what it felt like until right this second. Because Merry was moving closer, and I was, too, and then lips on mine and then arms around me and then tongue and it was awesome and—

“Yeah, you get some, Cap!” shouted a voice from somewhere nearby.

Merry and I pulled apart, giggling like loons as we looked for the source of the voice. Turns out, it was some girl dressed as the Black Widow, which was pretty appropriate. She waved. I waved back. Merry gave her a Captain America salute.

“So how about crepes?” said Merry, holding out their arm like an old-timey gentleman.

“Or,” I said, putting my hand on their elbow, “we could forget dinner and just go right to the ice cream.”

“Skipping to the best part, huh?” said Merry, and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “I knew I liked you.”