Page 34 of Do You Ship It

Anissa was right to make me come back in; even with no reply from @runicrascal aka Max , I’m suitably distracted by all the rules that come with playing Catan, trying my best to keep up with Anissa, Andreas, Jake and Heather in this nerdier, more strategic version of Monopoly. Luckily, not too many people overheard the details of my entire heartfelt confession to Jake, but they caught enough so that now everybody knows I have, essentially, You’ve Got Mail -ed myself.

‘Classic miscommunication trope,’ Heather trills. ‘I love it.’

‘Yeah, I’d love it a lot more if I hadn’t made such an idiot of myself. You don’t see them confessing all to the wrong man in the movies, do you? Meg Ryan never had to go through this.’

From the next table over, Sam tells me, ‘Meg Ryan picked the guy who put her mum’s bookstore out of business, kid, let’s not pretend she made only good decisions in that movie.’

Heather and I burst out laughing, while Jake asks Anissa what we’re talking about and who Meg Ryan is; she shrugs, none the wiser.

For the next hour, I manage to – if not forget about Max, at least not let him occupy my every thought. I throw myself into the meet-up, getting to know my Discord friends better, and even when I give up on Catan and swap to an even more complicated game about birdwatching, I’m having a great time.

Heartfelt confessions and world-changing realizations aside, it is a perfect day. It’s low-stakes, no-pressure, just as much in person as it always has been online, and it’s a refreshing change to not feel like I have to do or say the right thing, wear the right outfit, or play a part. I’ve been doing that less at college around the girls, but with them it’s more like unlearning a habit, disentangling myself from it; here, it’s something I relax into right from the off. I don’t worry about who they expect me to be, who I’m supposed to be.

I’m just … myself.

Wholly, unashamedly.

I play a blue counter, and pick up a new card, punching the air with a whoop. I slap it down on the board. ‘Yes! Take that Theresa, look who’s in the lead now!’

‘You can’t play that!’

‘She can,’ Fiona says, picking up the rulebook. ‘Look, if you …’

She trails off though, and while Theresa starts badgering her for an answer, Fiona nudges me, and I realize half the room has gone quiet – that someone’s just come in.

I stand, disrupting the gameboard. ‘Max.’

‘ What’s she waiting for? ’ Heather hisses from across the room, a bit too loudly.

Fiona scoots her chair out of my way as I scramble from my seat in the corner, and there are way too many eyes on us. Max looks at them, then at me, and says, ‘Shall we …?’ while jerking his head over his shoulder. I nod, and follow him outside.

I’m not running away this time, though.

The drizzle has finally let up. The pavement shines with puddles and the sky is a dreary, grubby shade of grey overhead. It’s hardly the picture-perfect scene, but I think I’m starting to finally accept that real life doesn’t always work out that way.

For a moment, we face each other in silence, and it’s as tense and difficult as ever to find something, anything, to talk about.

But I have so much to say now, I’m not floundering about for something to break the silence; it’s only how to say it, what to say first, and I draw a breath –

Max beats me to it.

‘I’m sorry,’ he blurts. ‘I never meant to lie to you, Cerys. I wasn’t trying to … I thought you knew it was me. I’d said at the Worlds Beyond con about adding you to Discord. If I’d realized, I would’ve –’

‘No, it’s not … It was my fault, I just … saw what I wanted to see. I didn’t think.’

‘And I get it,’ he says, his voice solid and firm, his eyes fixed on mine. ‘It makes sense now why you were so upset about Jake at the party, and why you just wanted us to be friends and forget – forget about … what happened. I know you guys are close, so I don’t want to –’

‘Max,’ I interrupt, before he can say the same thing as Jake and I did earlier, about not ‘getting in the way’. I really can see why he and Jake became such fast friends: they are very similar in a lot of ways. ‘Max, I said I wanted to forget about the kiss and go back to being friends when I thought I was talking to Jake . I – if I’d known …’

If I’d known, I honestly don’t know what I would’ve said.

If Max had messaged me away from Discord and I’d known it was him, I would’ve handled it differently. I think I would’ve wanted the chance to get to know him better, maybe without a bathroom door in the way.

‘I thought you didn’t like me,’ I tell him. ‘You’d barely look at me, like it was such a hardship to talk to me any time we were in a position to have a real-life conversation –’

Max gives a wry chuckle and drags a hand back through his hair, shaking his head before looking at me again. ‘Yeah, because I fancied you, Cerys. And I’m … I’m not like you. I’m not cool and – and put-together. I’m the weird cosplay guy who’s too into this stupid fantasy series. I don’t do this. I’m the guy whose name people don’t know, remember? I know that I’m … well, I’m not … Jake . Of course you’d pick him. And I don’t exactly have a lot of experience when it comes to … flirting with a girl I like.’

He’s so rattled, the usual aloof expression long gone, it reminds me of after Brayden Brown left the group at Comic Con – the realization that Max plays it cool a lot of the time. Like maybe it’s something he’s taught himself to do, some … defence mechanism. He drags his hand through his hair again, and I reach up to catch it, pulling it back to his side, my fingers slotting through his.

‘Look, Max, forget about Jake. After the party, I was focused on fixing things with Jake because I missed my friend – not because he broke my heart. I kept waiting, thinking you’d reach out, though – I wanted you to. I just didn’t realize you had . And I thought that what we’d built in Discord wasn’t worth losing for a kiss, not realizing that …’

I exhale, biting my lip at my own foolishness getting me into this whole mess. Max is watching me so closely, like he can’t bear to miss a single word I say, but the way his gaze flickers down to my mouth is a little distracting.

‘I’m not choosing Jake,’ I tell him. ‘He’s not the one who … Well, he’s not you . And you’re … you’re the weird cosplay guy who’s too into a stupid fantasy series and – Max, that’s exactly what I admire about you. I actually really like that about you.’

Max lets out a ragged breath, staring at our interlocked hands hanging between us. His hand is big enough to engulf mine almost completely, but it trembles. I think mine does, too. The way he looks at me, his eyes searching mine, desperate, a furrow in his brow – it’s like he isn’t sure if he can let himself believe me.

I’m not sure I can believe it either. That it’s him. That it was always him.

‘It’s not Jake I’ve got feelings for. That whole speech I gave earlier … that was meant for Runic Rascal. It was meant for you . You’re the one I want to talk to about my day, about this show, about anything and everything.’

His expression softens, a smile quirking at the edge of his mouth. His fingers thread more solidly through mine.

I keep reading fanfics where the characters loose a breath they didn’t know they were holding; romances where they feel some sense of homecoming – this feels like that. It makes sense, now.

I say softly, ‘People don’t always remember my name, either, you know. My friend Daphne thought I was called Carys at first.’

He huffs another laugh.

‘And I don’t have a whole lot of experience flirting with a guy I like, either. Obviously, or I might’ve noticed a bit sooner …’ I roll my eyes. ‘Can we … maybe rewind, a bit?’

‘What, start again? Blank slate?’

‘No, just … go back a little way. Like … maybe to the part where I was blabbering on about 87 unread messages, making up stupid nicknames and staying up all night to talk, and realizing I was falling for that guy. For you.’

And it’s not the scary, world-stopping revelation like it seems in the movies.

It’s just … a fact.

We’ve moved closer, somehow, at some point, our bodies almost flush. Now, Max’s free hand comes up to cradle my cheek and my breath hitches in my throat – he seems a lot more like the confident guy who strode around Comic Con in a wig and bandolier when he tilts my head up towards his.

‘D’you mean that?’ he murmurs.

‘Would you prefer it spelled out in a Discord message? Translated into a fanfic?’ I grin. ‘ Yes , I mean it.’

He lowers his head, not quite all the way, just close enough for the tip of his nose to graze down the end of mine, and my eyes flutter shut. My hands grip his shoulders and even if he hasn’t kissed me yet, my foot is ready to pop, my knees are weak, I’ll shatter if he lets me go, I’m every cliché in the book.

‘Good,’ he says. ‘Because I’ve fallen for you, too. And I’d really like to take you on a proper date, Cerys.’

My chat at New Year’s with the girls swims to the front of my mind, and I blurt, half teasing, half meaning it, ‘Are you going to wear the elf ears?’

He laughs, and his lips are still curved into a smile when they finally meet mine, and I melt into his kiss.