Page 14 of Do You Ship It

Max’s car is so clean, I’m almost terrified to put my feet on the floor mat in case some dirt comes off my shoes. I hug my bag on my lap, sitting bolt upright and tense, not sure whether that has more to do with the pristine car or him.

Who am I kidding?

It’s at least ninety-five per cent to do with him.

I’m fully prepared to eke out the silence for as long as we can get away with, if only to stretch out the snatches of stilted small talk I fully anticipate. I’m even already considering which directions I can mention as he drives, just for something else to talk about.

But as soon as Max turns on the engine his phone connects automatically and a voice begins droning out of the speakers: ‘ … phantom pain lanced through his damaged wings, once more magnificent than any of his Greater Fae brethren. Daxys thought again of the friends he had left behind in the palace, the brothers-in-arms who had turned their backs on him …’

An incredulous bark of laughter bursts out of me, even as Max is already reaching to turn down the volume and fumbling with his phone to find something else to play.

‘Is that the OWAR audiobook?’ I say, even though I already know. Daxys is Jake’s favourite character – a huge, buff, winged warrior, played by an actor that Jake’s described as ‘a real teddy bear with golden retriever energy’. I raise an eyebrow at Max. ‘How many times have you read these books?’

‘This is only the second time,’ he says, looking awkward. ‘It took me a year to work through them, but they’ve just released the complete audiobook series, and I’m finding those way easier to get through. It’s nice to experience them again and find all the details I missed the first time around, now I’m more comfortable with the whole worldbuilding side of things and know the ins and outs of most of the series.’

‘Er … right.’

There’s a beat of silence – awkward and stilted and oppressive – before Max asks, with an almost deliberate politeness, ‘How’s your foray into the books going?’

I readjust my bag on my lap. My copy hasn’t left the bottom of it in about a week and, despite being pretty battered at this point, is largely unread.

‘It’s not,’ I admit, and Max lets out a short, sharp laugh. I scowl. ‘Hey, you can’t judge me when you’re so much of a die-hard fan you go out in cosplay and –’

‘I’m not judging you,’ he says, and I scoff because yeah, right . ‘I’m just not surprised.’

‘That kinda sounds like you’re judging me.’

‘Hmm.’ He clears his throat then, and when he starts another playlist I see on his phone screen it’s the soundtrack from The Witcher . He skips it, and something that I can only describe as a jaunty folk tune on a lyre starts up. I raise my eyebrows; I didn’t ever imagine anyone listened to this sort of stuff. Max skips through a few more weird-sounding songs and finally settles on an album from a moody indie punk rock band. That must be about as mainstream as he can think of, and I don’t feel like I can really question or insult his music tastes further when he’s doing me a favour and driving me home.

But I can’t help asking, ‘Is this the sort of stuff you normally listen to?’

‘What do you normally listen to?’

It sounds so accusatory, I question if my own tone was that sharp, but I’m sure it wasn’t. It’s just Max being his usual difficult, prickly self.

I flounder for an answer to give him, confused because I thought my music taste was fairly normal – Sabrina Carpenter and Olivia Rodrigo and a lot of Taylor Swift. Finally I say, ‘Not that .’

‘See, now it sounds like you’re the one judging me , Cerys.’

Max gives me an arch look, then puts the car in gear and pulls off, with me sufficiently chastised. I bite the inside of my cheek, the lack of conversation between us stewing, thickening, like some physical thing in the car with us. I’m glad of the music, even if it doesn’t provide much of a buffer.

Feeling like I may have gone a bit far, I offer a truce. ‘This stuff isn’t too bad, though. They sound good.’

‘Argonauta. It’s these three sisters from Leeds. All their songs have some kind of reference to Greek myths – mostly the tragedies, I think.’

I repress a sigh; just when I thought we might have found some common ground that isn’t Max having a nerdy, niche interest … But this time when we lapse into quiet it’s to listen to the music, and nothing jumps out at me as being the story of the Trojan Horse or Medusa or anything like that. It’s just a catchy song about revenge after a breakup, with gorgeously layered vocals and a violin blended with otherwise modern sounds in a way that’s kind of entrancing.

‘What’s this one about?’

‘Clytemnestra.’ He says the name carefully, like he’s trying to remember each syllable correctly. ‘I forget the details, but I think her husband was awful, so she ended up cheating on him, stealing his throne, and killing him?’

I’m momentarily speechless, but recover enough to say, ‘Well, if this song is any reflection of the story, I think I want to say “good for her”.’

Max laughs, and at once the mood shifts, eases, lightens. He relaxes a bit, shoulders shuffling against the back of his seat, his fingers drumming absently on the steering wheel in time to the song. ‘Why does that sound rich, coming from someone who obviously loves a romance?’

I shrug, not knowing how to reply to that. It’s jarring that he knows that about me, even if I guess I have made it obvious; and I think it only feels so weird because I know so little about him, outside of the context of him as Jake’s new fandom/football/college buddy.

Maybe he wouldn’t be so bad if I tried to get to know him?

But then he says, ‘They’re coming to Cardiff next month. Me and Jake have got tickets. I don’t know if there’ll be any left …’

It’s half an invitation, but not really, and sounds almost reluctant. And it twists a knife in my gut, reminding me exactly why I don’t like Max just on principle. Jake never mentioned he liked this band to me, has never said anything about listening to this sort of music, but suddenly he’s enough of a fan to go to their concert with Max?

I swallow the lump in my throat. ‘I’m sure that’ll be great fun for you guys.’

We’re quiet another few minutes while Max concentrates on driving. The next Argonauta song starts, but I decide not to ask him what this one’s about. The vibe and lyrics are packed full of sorrow and longing, something about unrequited love, and that hits a little too close to home for me right now.

Instead, I think of a hundred questions I suddenly want to ask Max, but they’re all so invasive – borderline judgemental – that I don’t dare open my mouth. I don’t need to stoop to his level.

But doesn’t he care how he comes across? Doesn’t it bother him that he’s gone so far into this fandom and other non-mainstream things that he’s alienating himself from those of us in the real world?

Does he think I should give the audiobooks a go, instead of trying to tackle the paperback?

Finally, we turn on to the main road that leads to my estate. It’s pitch-dark, the lengthy, dusky summer nights that lingered having vanished all at once, and I’m glad I didn’t have to get the bus this late.

‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘For the lift home. I know Jake put you up to it and that must’ve made it a bit awkward to say no, but …’

‘It’s alright. You’re not very far out of my way.’

‘Well, thanks,’ I say again, and even though I mean it, it comes out sounding so stilted that I wince. Max, noticing, smirks, and it makes irritation prickle beneath my skin just enough that it feels more normal between us.

‘By the way, I don’t know if Jake got around to mentioning it yet, but Cardiff Comic Con’s in two weeks. We booked it back at the start of the summer – they’d announced the guest list and a couple of OWAR actors are going to be there. There’s definitely still tickets available for that one. We were planning to go on the Saturday. You work then, right?’

Is this another non-invite? I can’t work it out.

Hedging my bets, I say, ‘I could probably try to swap my shift.’

‘Cool.’

My nose wrinkles before I can stop myself. ‘Are you going in cosplay again? Is Jake ?’ Is that why he hadn’t told me – was he embarrassed? Or is it because he’d booked it so long ago he forgot and didn’t know if I’d be engaged enough with the fandom to want to go? That sounds more likely.

Max’s mouth cracks into a crooked grin. ‘Obviously I am. Don’t know about Jake. He was toying with it, but I don’t know how committed he was to actually making the costume. You know what he’s like,’ he adds with an affectionate chuckle that rubs me the wrong way. ‘Lady di Silver would be pretty easy to cosplay. I’ve got some spare elf ears you could borrow.’

Oh my God.

Is this truly what my life’s come to? Second-hand elf ears from a boy who’s practically my arch-nemesis in my quest to prove myself to Jake?

Using words like ‘arch-nemesis’ and ‘quest’ like they’re part of any halfway reasonable person’s daily vocabulary?

‘I’ll think about it,’ I mumble, which feels like the most polite reply I can muster. I’m not even sure I’ll wear the T-shirt Jake bought me at the last con; I don’t know how Max can expect me to get on public transport in full cosplay. Just because he doesn’t care what he looks like …

‘Sure, just let me know.’ We’re at my house now; I point it out by the cars outside, and Max jolts up on to the curb, engine idling as I unbuckle my seatbelt. Just as I’m about to thank him one last time for the lift, he says, ‘I can’t make next Wednesday by the way. I’ve got some stuff on.’

‘Oh! You do?’

Yes! YES!!! This is the best thing he’s said all night! I’ll have a full evening alone with Jake at last . Maybe we can even sack off watching any new episodes and actually talk, actually spend time together like we haven’t been able to do for the last couple of months. That’ll be so nice. Even though I’ve only just seen him, even though we talk most days, I miss him.

And maybe next week we can finally get that kiss it felt like we’d been leading up to tonight.

Max nods, hesitates, and I’m not sure if he’s being purposely elusive or simply doesn’t like me enough to bother telling me. I guess he must decide he looks rude by ignoring my prompt, though, because he finally mutters, ‘Just some family stuff. But I look forward to hearing your play-by-play breakdown of the next couple of episodes.’

That’s definitely a dig, because I’m so not forthcoming about any debrief and dissection of the episodes we’ve all watched together so far.

‘Believe me, my thoughts will be every bit as riveting as the books themselves,’ I quip, and throw open the car door. ‘Thanks for the lift,’ I say one last time, and then mutter, not quite under my breath, ‘Rascal.’

It’s really the only word for him. He’s such a pain. Causing trouble and stirring up best laid plans and just – just – UGH.

He’s laughing when I slam the door shut.

Shut up in my bedroom a little while later, I decide to bite the bullet, book the Comic Con ticket – which thankfully is not much more expensive than a trip to the cinema with some popcorn – and send a screenshot to Jake via text.

He replies almost instantly, first with a string of party emojis and then:

Jake

WHOOP! A full convert! You’re officially one of us now! You going to cosplay? Max has tried to persuade me, and I am kind of tempted. I’ve totally got the good looks to pull off a Daxys costume, right? Or maybe Roach …?

Me

Maybe Rogdan …? Grizzled and a bit like Fagin from Oliver Twist, very you

And you DID smash your glasses that one time …

Jake

You wound me, Cer

He makes his point with a broken heart and knife emoji, and I laugh.

Me

Or Devon would be an easy costume?

Which, fine, maybe is only an idea I put out there because if I’m going to be strong-armed into cosplaying too, then I can be Lady di Silver and we can go as Silversmith, a bit of a couple’s costume, and that might just be cute enough to mitigate the general weirdness of wearing a set of rubber elf ears out in public. And it’d definitely fit in with The Plan. It might even be romantic?

Jake

DEVON! Yes, that’s a shout! I’ll keep you posted!

Although thinking about it, Max has said he’d help me make some wings for a Daxys cosplay … I’ll see!

Also, really sorry but got to bail on next week and the week after Thomas is visiting (he’s looking at some houses and thinking about moving back here!! How awesome would that be?!) so can’t do then either

Maybe you can go ahead and watch the next few eps without us? You could probably finish season two easy before Comic Con, and even s3 if you’re not waiting around to watch with us!

Me

Exciting about Thomas maybe moving back this way! I know you’ve been missing your Dungeons and Dragons stuff with him

How come you can’t do this week btw? But no worries, will go ahead and watch! I’ll keep you posted on all my reactions can live-text them to you to make up for it haha

Jake

Definitely do! I love how invested you are! Wish we’d done this ages ago lol x

Me

Me too x

Why has he cancelled? Is this because of Max not being able to make it – does he not want to spend time with me, like he doesn’t want to with the gang from school? Is it total coincidence? Why did he ignore that part of my message?

I take a breath to calm my racing thoughts. Knowing Jake, it’s because he responded faster than he thought and just didn’t even notice that he hadn’t answered my question. And he seems genuinely excited about me joining them for Comic Con; I believe that.

My stomach sinks as I stare at our text conversation, my message left on read even though I don’t really know what he would’ve replied to it anyway.

And then a notification slides down the top of my screen, a Discord message from Jake – a link to Instagram posts of Lady di Silver cosplays – and I open it with a little more enthusiasm than I’d shown Max in the car.

If wearing some elf ears is the way to Jake’s heart … Well, if I’ve learned one thing from all those romcom movies, it’s that a little dent to my pride and dignity is a small price to pay for true love.