Kindred Spirits (3 page)

When Gabe came back he was frowning more than Elena had ever seen a human being frown. Even her mother. It was the longest afternoon of her life.

By Tuesday evening, deep malaise had set in. Luke-staring-into-both-suns-of-Tatooine malaise.

Elena hid her face whenever movie-goers walked by. She only perked up when her mom came by around ten.
Gotta keep up appearances.

When Elena stood up to go to the car, her whole body felt numb with cold and disuse. Her mom shoved a hot-water bottle out the window. “Here.”

It was so hot that Elena dropped it. “Thanks,” she said, picking it up.

“I don’t think George Lucas would want you to do this,” her mom said.

“I didn’t know you knew who George Lucas was.”

“Please. I was watching Star Wars movies before you were born. Your dad and I saw
Empire Strikes Back
five times in the theater.”

“Lucky,” Elena said.

“George Lucas is a father of daughters,” her mother said. “He wouldn’t want young girls freezing to death to prove their loyalty.”

“This isn’t about George Lucas,” Elena said. “He isn’t even that involved in the sequels.”

“Come home,” her mom said. “We’ll watch
Empire Strikes Back
and I’ll make hot cocoa.”

“I can’t,” Elena said. “I’ll lose my place in line.”

“I think it will still be there for you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Mom.”

Her mom sighed and held out a venti Starbucks cup. “Stay warm. I’ll leave my ringer on tonight in case you change your mind.”

Elena sat down with her coffee and tucked the hot-water bottle into her sleeping bag. It felt
amazing
.

“Call your Mom,” Gabe said flatly. “I want to watch
Empire Strikes Back
and drink hot cocoa.”

She realized now that the coffee was a set-up.

It was two in the morning, and Elena was going to wet her pants. She looked up the line. Troy was wrapped in sleeping bags and a polar fleece, like a mummy. Gabe had pulled his knees up and
tucked his head down a few hours ago.

Elena had been sleeping. Badly. She felt groggy and out of sorts and her bladder actually
hurt
.

She kept fidgeting. Gabe lifted his head. “What’s wrong? Are you cold?”

“No,” Elena said. “I mean, yes, of course. But no—I’m going to wet my pants.”

“Don’t do that,” Gabe said.

“
I can’t help it.
What am I supposed to do?”

“Go pee somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Behind a car or something.”

“That’s illegal!” Elena said. “And gross!”

“Not as gross as peeing your pants.”

Elena closed her eyes. “Ughhhhhhhhhhh. Where have you guys been peeing?”

“Inside the theater,” he said.

“Don’t you ever have to go at night?”

He shrugged. “No.”

Elena felt tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” Gabe said. “That won’t help.”

She kept crying. It was going to happen soon.

“OK,” he said, standing up. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To let you pee.”

“We can’t leave without telling Troy,” she said. “Code of the Line.”

“The Code of the Line also includes not soiling it. Come on.”

Troy had an extra-large Coke cup, and Gabe grabbed it. Elena got up, carefully, and followed him around to the back of the theater.

“OK,” he said, holding out the cup. “You go behind the dumpster, pee in this cup, then put it in the dumpster.”

“What if there are cameras?” Elena said, taking the cup.

“I can’t help you there. This isn’t
Mission: Impossible
, you know?”

“But what if I need to pee more than this?

I don’t know how much I pee.”

“If your bladder held more than forty-four ounces, you wouldn’t have to go to the bathroom constantly.”

She stood there, biting her lip.

“Elena.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have any other options here. Pee in the cup.”

“Right,” she said. She walked, carefully, to the other side of the dumpster. “I don’t want you to listen!”

“Is this the first time you’ve peed around another human being?”

“Around a guy,” she shouted, “yes!”

“I didn’t ask for this!” Gabe shouted back. He started humming loudly—“The Imperial March”. It made Elena feel like her mom was coming.

She carefully peeled down her layers and hovered over the cup, trying not to touch it, and trying not to splash, still sort of crying. Gabe kept up the loud humming. When Elena was done, she put
the lid on the cup and walked out. “OK,” she said.

“Gross. You were supposed to throw it away.”

“I’m going to pour it down a storm drain! So it doesn’t spill on anyone.”

“Whatever,” Gabe said.

When she’d disposed of the pee, and the cup, she sat back down next to him and dug in her bag for a wet wipe.

“I should just go home,” she said, scrubbing her hands.

“Do you have to pee again?”

“No.”

“Then why do you want to go home?”

“Well, obviously I’m not prepared for this!” She waved her arm around, encompassing the cold, the line, the trash can, the storm drain . . . “And it isn’t how I
thought it was going to be.”

“How’d you think it was going to be?” Gabe asked.

“I don’t know—
fun
.”

“You’re camping on a sidewalk with strangers. Why would that be fun?”

“It always
looks
fun. In the pictures. Like, tent cities. And people meeting in line and making friends for life. Getting matching tattoos.”

“You want to get a matching tattoo with Troy?”

“You know what I mean.” She threw her wadded-up wet wipe on to the ground. “I thought it was going to be a celebration, like a way to be really excited about Star Wars with a
bunch of other people who are really excited about Star Wars. Like in Troy’s stories. Like the time they all camped out for two weeks to see
Return of the Jedi
and ended up with
soulmates and nicknames. The practical jokes that went on for days! The lightsaber battles!”

“You could still end up with a nickname,” Gabe said. “Right now I’m thinking something to do with pee. Or cups.”

Elena wrapped her sleeping bag tighter.

“Good Old Pees-in-a-Cup,” Gabe said.

“Why are you here?” she asked. “If you knew it was going to be miserable.”

“I’m here because I love Star Wars,” he said. “Same as you.” He folded his arms on his knees and tucked his head down.

“But you don’t even talk to me,” Elena said. “To either of us.”

Gabe made a sarcastic noise, like
hrmph
.

“No, seriously,” she said. “What’s the point of getting in this line if you don’t want to experience it with other people?”

“Maybe I just don’t want to experience it with you,” he said. “Have you thought of that?”

“Oh my God.” She scrunched up her face. “
No
. I haven’t thought of that. Is that true? Why are you so mean?”

“It’s not true,” he grumbled, lifting his head.“I’m just tired. And I’m not—a people person. Sorry I’m not meeting your Star Wars dream line
expectations.”

“Me, too.” She rubbed her hands together and blew in them.

“Why didn’t your friends wait in line with you?” Gabe said. “Then you could have had your party line.”

“None of my friends likes Star Wars.”

“Everybody likes Star Wars,” he said. “Everybody likes everything these days. The whole world is a nerd.”

“Are you mad because other people like Star Wars? Are you mad because people
like me
like Star Wars?”

Gabe glowered at her. “Maybe.”

“Well,” she said, “my friends
do
like Star Wars. They’re going to see it this weekend. But they don’t like it like I do. They don’t get a stomach ache
about it.”

“Why does Star Wars give you a stomach ache?”

“I don’t know. I just care about it so much.”

“I wasn’t trying to call you a fake geek girl,” Gabe said.

“I didn’t say that you were.”

“I mean, you obviously know the original trilogy inside out. And that’s not even important, but you obviously do.”

“I’ve yet to determine whether you’re a fake geek boy,” she said, pulling her sleeves down over her hands.

He laughed, and she was ninety per cent sure it wasn’t sarcastic.

“Here’s what bothers me,” he said, glowering slightly less, but still looking frustrated. “I’m a nerd, right? Like obviously. Classic nerd. I hate sports. I know
every Weird Al song by heart. I don’t know how to talk to most people. I’m probably going to get a job in computer science. Like, I know those are all stereotypes, but they’re
also true of me. That’s who I am. And the thing about nerd culture being mainstream culture now means that there’s no place to just be a nerd among other nerds—without being
reminded that you’re the nerd. Do you follow me?”

“Only sort of,” Elena said.

“OK. So. If I go to a football party at my brother’s house, I don’t know anything about football, and I’m the nerd. And if I go dancing with my friend who likes to dance,
well, I don’t dance, and I don’t like loud music, so I’m the nerd. But
now
, even if I go see a comic-book movie, the whole world is there—so I’m still the nerd.
I would have thought that a
Star Wars line
would be safe,” he said, waving his arm around the way Elena had. “No way am I going to feel like a social outcast in a Star Wars line.
No way am I going to have to sit next to one of the
cool girls
for four days.”

“Whoa,” Elena said. “I’m not a cool girl.”

“Give me a break.”

She held up her index finger. “I feel like I need to say that everyone should be welcome in a Star Wars line, socially successful or not, but also,
whoa
. I am a nerd,” she
said. “That’s what this was supposed to be, a chance to talk to people who wouldn’t care that I’m awkward in literally every other situation.”

“That’s not true,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“It is.”

“You have friends. You have a clique. You walk down the hall like you own the place.”

“You seem to have mistaken me for the movie
Mean Girls
,” Elena said. “Also, are you saying you don’t have friends at your school? Have you considered that maybe
it’s your silent pouting that drives people away?”

“I have friends,” Gabe said. “That’s not the point.”

“So you have
friends
, but you think I have a
clique
.”

“I’m pretty sure of it.”

“I feel like you’re projecting your clearly problematic girl issues on me,” she said.

Gabe rolled his eyes again. “I thought you said you couldn’t talk to people,” he said. “You don’t seem to have any problems talking to me.”

“I’m having
a lot
of problems talking to you.”

“OK, then, let’s stop.”

Was Gabe really mad? She couldn’t tell.

Was Elena mad? She also couldn’t tell . . .

Yes.
Yes
, Elena
was
mad. Who was Gabe to take her inventory like this? He didn’t know her. And he was giving her zero benefit of the doubt; she’d been giving him
nothing
but
benefit of the doubt for thirty-six hours.

“For what it’s worth,” she said, without looking at him, “I haven’t thought,
Whoa, Gabe sure is a nerd
, even once since I sat down.”

He didn’t say anything.

Elena squirmed. She wrapped her sleeping bag as tightly as she could and rearranged her legs. “Uggggggggch.”

“I get it,” he said. “You think I’m a jerk.”

“No.
Yes
, but no—I have to pee again.”

“You just went.”

“I know, I can’t help it. Sometimes it happens in waves.”

“Can you wait?”

“
No
.”

Gabe sighed and stood up. “Come on. Let’s go back to the dumpster.”

“I threw away the cup!” Elena said.

“You still have your hot-water bottle—”

“
No
.”

Gabe clicked his tongue like he was thinking. Elena started rooting through her backpack. Everything she’d brought was in plastic bags.

“Aha!” Gabe said. He reached behind her sleeping bag and pulled out her Starbucks cup. “This is perfect,” he said. “It’s already got your name on
it.”

They left their sleeping bags and shuffled to the back of the theater again. It was no less humiliating the second time around.

“You’re definitely getting a nickname,” Gabe said when she sat down again.

Elena crawled into her sleeping bag, feeling more unbelievably tired than unbelievably uncomfortable, like maybe she’d be able to get some sleep for real now.

“I was born at the wrong time,” she said. “And in the wrong climate. It should be 1983, and I should be sitting outside Mann’s Chinese Theatre in Hollywood,
California.”

“They’re camping outside the Chinese Theatre tonight,” Gabe said. “Troy says we’re all one line.”

“I’m probably last in that one, too,” Elena said.

She rolled away from Gabe and fell asleep.

“The Force awakens!” Troy shouted.

Elena pulled her hat down over her eyes.

“Come on, Elena,” Troy said. “We’re hoping you’ll get coffee again.”

“Because I’m a woman?”

“No. Because you probably have to pee,” Gabe said.

Elena did. “Fine, tell me what you want.”

Twenty minutes later she was staring at herself in the Starbucks mirror. She was starting to look like someone who slept on the street and washed up in Starbucks bathrooms.

There’d been an actual homeless person sitting outside the Starbucks when Elena walked in, and it made her feel like a big creep to think she was doing this for fun. (It wasn’t even
fun!)

She told the barista their names were “Tarkin”, “Veers” and “Ozzel”.

“Feeling your dark side today, huh?” Troy said when she handed him his cup.

“Pretty much,” Elena said, dropping to the ground. “Fear, anger, hate, suffering . . .”

“T-minus one!” Troy said. “One more day.
One more day!
I can’t believe we’ve waited ten years for this, though honestly I never thought it would come.
Real
sequels . . .”