Page 9

As I walked closer, I heard Amanda’s excited voice and then some laughter.

She had vanished at Spectrum last night and apologized for ditching and making Jon drive me home.

As payment, she offered to open the store.

I think it was her way of justifying a speedy exit from her new friend’s bed in the morning.

I pressed my face against the glass of the store.

A cameraman wandered around the store while — Gail Simmons.

Everybody recognized Gail, the street reporter willing to get her hands dirty to get the story.

Except this time, she stood next to a cardboard cutout of Mister Supreme leaping into the air.

“Amanda, what have you done?” My anxiety picked up, forcing my heart to pound against my ribcage. A thirty-second promotional video had almost done me in. Now I had to face a reporter? I couldn’t prove it, but Amanda had something to do with this. She’d cackle while I stewed in my discomfort.

She caught me snooping outside the store and waved me in. I had missed my opportunity to run away. Okay. Hi, I’m Jason Cowan. I’m only scared of snakes, clowns, and oysters. I could do this.

With a deep breath, I walked to the door, easing it open as I reconsidered running away. I stepped inside, and the cameraman spun about, focusing on me. The thumping in my chest moved to my throat. Add reporters to my list of fears.

“Gail, this is Jason. He’s the one you want to speak with.”

Amanda came out from behind the counter and threw her arm over my shoulders. It wasn’t for camaraderie. She tightened her grip, making it impossible to run away. There was no escaping. It was kindergarten all over again.

“Maine News saw your video,” she said. Leaning close to my ear, she added, “You’re welcome,” in a whisper.

Gail wore a blue blazer with a white blouse underneath.

It would change depending on the weather.

Her asymmetrical haircut, thick black glasses, and brilliant green eyes served as her signature look.

Every person in the state of Maine had seen her on the news.

She had exposed corruption in the capitol, uncovered shady practices in the Lewiston school system, and even launched a campaign to support local animal rescue. Gail had become Maine royalty.

“Hi,” I squeaked.

Gail strode forward with an unworldly confidence. “Gail Simmons with Maine News.” She needed no introduction. “We saw your video online and would love to interview you about Firefly Con.”

“You’re welcome.” Amanda leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “He’s all yours, Gail.” She retreated behind the counter, leaving me to defend myself.

“Thanks, Amanda.” Wait, did Amanda know Gail? Or did she know Gail? It wouldn’t surprise me. There wasn’t a beautiful woman in the state that Amanda didn’t have saved in her phonebook. “As she said, your video popped up on my radar. I have to say, the blooper reel is what grabbed my attention.”

I didn’t need to look to know, Amanda muttered, “I told you so.”

“Kid, it sounds like you could use a hand getting the word out.”

Kid? She couldn’t be more than a year or two older than me. If Gail Simmons helped promote Firefly Con, I’d shelf my protests. I could be brave. No, I would be brave. The success of this event sat on my shoulders, and I wouldn’t let the town down.

“If you’re here to cover the convention, I can’t take all the credit.”

“You’re Jason Cowan, the organizer, you?—”

“You’re right. I’m the organizer behind Firefly Con, but it’s the town making it happen.

Since we lost the paper mills, the town has been struggling to stay relevant.

You know us northerners, we’re a durable folk.

Harsh winters and brutal summers, we take it all in stride.

But we need something to look forward to. ”

“And that’s your convention?”

I didn’t realize the cameraman had turned in my direction. One of his eyes pressed against the camera, the red dot blinking on the front. The interview had already started.

“Comics aren’t the strips in the newspaper. They’re as diverse as any book. There are stories about superheroes, sure. But also mysteries about hard-boiled detectives and even a few beautiful romances. Comics take intricate stories and split them between the character’s dialogue and the artwork.”

“You mentioned this is a town affair…”

“Firefly Valley is going to give the big conventions a run for their money, and we’re going to do it like true Mainers.

Twice-Told Tales has been collecting vintage comics to sell.

One of our local artisans is creating chainsaw statues of well-known heroes.

Everybody chips in here. Bistro on Maine has barely opened, and they’re going to be offering bite-sized treats for the convention. ”

Gail Simmons smiled. The flatlanders wouldn’t understand the importance of community involvement, especially not in such a tight-knit town. Here, we rose and fell as one. Firefly needed this almost as much as I did.

“Why now?”

Two words. Two simple words, and yet, the question hit like a ton of bricks.

Did I tell her I toyed with the idea of selling the store and moving to the city?

Would it be appropriate to say that after living here my entire life, I might need something more?

While I imagined the luxuries of moving to Portland or Boston, something tugged at my heart.

No, this wasn’t just about me. I needed to answer on behalf of all the people in Firefly Valley.

“Because right now, we need more heroes.”

Gail’s smile widened. She pivoted, turning to the camera.

“This is Jason Cowan, owner of Legend Comics and organizer of the first annual Firefly Con.” First annual?

The weight resting on my shoulders doubled.

“It sounds like it’ll be a great time for the whole family.

” She continued with the specifics, and I stood there, hands in my pockets, trying not to be awkward.

“That’s a wrap,” Gail said. “We should air on the six o’clock news, and it’ll be on the website tomorrow. Amanda gave me all the details. I’ll make sure it goes out on our socials.”

Lost for words, I nodded.

“Us northerners have to stick together.” She winked and then waved for her cameraman to follow. I assumed a television personality had to be from the southern part of the state. I wanted to ask what high school she attended, but she was already out the door.

Amanda squealed as she charged at me. Her arms flung around my neck as her legs gripped my waist. “We’re going to be on the news!” It took a moment before reality set in. The entire state would hear about Firefly Con. She leaned back, staring me in the face. “Are you going to say something?”

I gasped. “We’re going to be on the news.” I jumped up and down with her. “We’re going to be on the news!” It was more than I could have hoped for. Not only were the residents of Firefly going to see the power of comics, but now half the state would know.

“Things are going your way.” She let go before poking me in the chest. “When were you going to tell me about Simon?”

“I invited him to Spectrum. I didn’t think?—”

“Didn’t think he’d show up in the park and ask you on a date?”

“How did you… That was an hour ago!”

“Abraham told Gladys. I heard something about a Viking helmet? But then Gladys was at the market to pick up eggs. She mentioned it to Dorothy. She texted me to confirm the rumor. And what do you know? I couldn’t confirm it.”

“God, I hate this place.”

“Why? We’re all rooting for you.”

“That doesn’t make it any better. You’re all a bunch of snoops.”

“I…” It had barely been an hour since we finished our game. Firefly gossip, the only thing faster than the speed of light. “It’s not a date. He wants me to show him around town.”

“Haven’t you shown him enough? Or does he want another tour of the back room?”

I fought to keep my jaw from dropping. I had been careful, making sure Amanda didn’t see him leave after our hookup. If I asked how she knew, I’d be confirming her suspicions. However, the lack of blood in my face did the same thing.

“Don’t say anything.” She spun about and headed toward the stairs to her loft. “I heard what I heard.” Now I could cringe. Were we that loud? If I tried to remember, I’d have to adjust myself in my jeans.

“But if you don’t think it’s a date,” she shouted, “you’re being dense.”

I wouldn’t be surprised the moment she got upstairs if she texted Dorothy.

Even if she partook in the rumor mill, Amanda wouldn’t mention the encounter in the back of the store.

We had a pact to not disclose the specifics of our sex lives, an agreement of mutual destruction.

If she blabbed, then I’d be free to tell Gladys that her daughter fancied Amanda between boyfriends.

Having heard it from the guys, and now Amanda, I wondered if I had it wrong? Was I being dense? I hadn’t thought it possible, but maybe Simon asked me on a date? The question of his sexuality made me nervous… and excited.

“I have a date with Simon.” It sounded too good to be true.