“I don’t even know what that means. Give me that; I’ll write it,” Fi deflected, grabbing for the pen.
Rowan moved the pen up and away from Fi’s reach. “I mean … okay, here. I’m going to trust you with something about me. And then maybe you can trust me with something about you. Okay?”
Fi hesitated. Rowan had been great today. Like … really great, actually. But did she want to go there?
Remembering that she really did need Rowan’s help to find the twins, Fi conceded. “Okay. Go for it.”
“So you know how everyone at school thinks I was in a cult.”
Fi was surprised. Rowan knew people said that about her? Fi must have sat there with her mouth open for just a second too long, because Rowan put two fingers under Fi’s chin and shut it for her.
“Yeah, I secretly kind of love that people think that about me, so I don’t correct them. Reality is, natch, way less rad.” Rowan laughed. “My folks are musicians. We traveled around a lot, and I was homeschooled. Now we have a real house, so I have to go to a real school.”
Fi shifted, pulling her knees up and resting her head on them. “That sounds so … exciting.”
“Sometimes,” Rowan agreed. “But mostly it meant I didn’t really know anybody. I didn’t have any friends, you know? We never stayed anywhere long enough. Instead, I had…” Rowan gestured around her vaguely. “Comics and games and shows and movies. And fandom. I got totally obsessed with so many things. And then I’d go online and find other people who were just as obsessed with the same things. And it’s, like, instant friendship. You just get each other. Even if you’re not around each other, you know?”
Fi didn’t know. Maybe it was like being fans of the same soccer team? Regardless, Fi liked listening to Rowan talk, so she nodded.
“The thing about that kind of friendship, fandom friendship,” Rowan continued, “is that it’s just completely genuine. Everybody knows exactly who you are and what you’re into. You can just be yourself. No games. No garbage. It’s huge. Fandom connects people all over the world. And then once a year, if we’re lucky, we get to meet up IRL here. At GeekiCon. And it’s … kind of magic.”
Rowan made it sound like magic. A magic Fi had been missing out on. And … for what? Why did all this make her so uncomfortable?
“I never really thought about it that way,” Fi said. “I guess I never really thought about it much at all—”
“No sitting in the booth!” A gruff voice interrupted Fi’s thought. Rowan and Fi scrambled to grab their notepad and pen and stood in a hurry. “I said, no sitting in the—”
“We got it, we got it!” Rowan responded, just as rough.
The angry guy stormed over to them. He was older, like Fi’s dad’s age, and had a big CON STAFF badge around his neck. It identified him as JAMES M. “What do you two think you’re doing here? Show me your passes,” he demanded.
Rowan held out her badge, rolling her eyes. Fi followed suit. James M.’s examined Rowan’s badge first, then Fi’s. In an instan
t, he snatched it out of her hand, tugging her forward by the neck.
“Hey—”
“This is a GUEST badge. It says here you’re a publicist. You don’t look like a publicist to me,” James M. said accusatorily.
All the blood drained from Fi’s face as she remembered—she had grabbed her parents’ publicist’s badge this morning in the rush to get out of the room. It didn’t really matter—nobody checked these things except to make sure you had a badge at all.
Except for this guy, Fi thought with growing dread.
“It’s just a mistake—”
“What’s your problem, anyway?” Rowan demanded, knocking Fi’s badge out of James M.’s hand and stepping between them. Under her breath as she made the move, Rowan whispered, “Just go!”
Fi froze for a second. Go where?
“What’s my problem?” James M. repeated, now visibly angry. “My problem is you pink-haired social justice warriors taking up space in my convention, disrespecting the art by sitting on the floor of the AC Comics booth when you probably couldn’t even name a single AC Comics character—”
“Now, Fi!” Rowan hissed under her breath while James M. continued his nonsensical tirade.
Fi didn’t hesitate this time. She spun on her heel and took off down one of the con aisles, James M.’s frustrated yells swallowed up by the crowd behind her. Fi never thought she’d be grateful for this giant convention crowd—but she sure was now. Rowan would find her later. She was certain of it.
She had to.
Fi had no idea where to turn, so she decided to do the only thing she could think of in the moment: keep moving forward, and as quickly as possible. She motored around the corner of the AC Comics booth, desperately searching for something she recognized, something that could jog her memory. Fi scanned the room as best she could while continuing to avoid the crowds: super hero movie costumes, people live gaming, a girl wearing wings two times her height, a giant sign for Pixel Comics …