Gabe sighed. ’Hold my spot.’
He got up and shuffled out of his sleeping bag, walking down the street and disappearing behind the building. When he came back, he was carrying a few cardboard boxes. Raisinets. Sour Patch Kids.
‘You take mine,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Move up, unless you don’t want to sit between us. Troy’s an excellent windbreak.’
Elena shuffled over to Gabe’s pile of boxes, pulling her things with her. Gabe quickly made himself a new nest and settled down again.
‘It does help,’ Elena said. ‘Thanks.’
She tested her instincts, to see if she felt any less safe sitting between these two strangers than on the end. No. She felt about the same. ‘You just want me to have to listen to Troy’s stories,’ she whispered.
‘We can switch back in the morning,’ he said.
‘Do you know him?’ she asked. ‘Troy?’
‘I didn’t know him before,’ Gabe said, ‘but I have been sitting next to him for four days . . .’
Gabe picked up his book.
‘Thanks,’ Elena said again.
Gabe didn’t answer.
Tuesday 15 December 2015
It didn’t seem like Elena had slept, but she must have. She woke up slumped over her backpack with a patch of cold saliva on her chin.
‘Star Wars!’ someone was shouting from a car driving by.
‘Star Wars!’ Troy shouted back, raising his fist.
Yes, Elena thought, Star Wars. That’s what this experience needed: more Star Wars.
Elena was going to rally.
So this wasn’t the jubilant, communal, public display of affection she’d been expecting—it could still be something. It could still be memorable. She’d make it memorable.
‘What does the Code of the Line say about going to Starbucks?’ she asked.
Troy answered: ‘Totally acceptable as long as you bring back some for us.’
Elena walked the six blocks to Starbucks and hung out in the bathroom for a while, painting little Yodas on her cheeks. She had the Starbucks barista write character names on their cups. Troy was Admiral Ackbar, Gabe was General Dodonna, and Elena was Mon Mothma.
When she got back to the line, she took out her phone and carefully took a selfie of herself with the guys behind her. Gabe wouldn’t look at the camera, but Troy played along. ‘Third in line!’ Elena posted on Instagram. Which sounded much better than ‘Last in Line!‘
‘I dig your face paint,’ Troy said. ‘I’ve got a costume, but I’m saving it for opening night.’
‘Do you always wear a costume on opening night?’ Elena asked.
‘Oh yeah. Usually I camp in it.’
‘I want to hear about your costumes,’ Elena said.
‘You mean opening-night costumes? Or all my Star Wars costumes, including Halloween and May the Fourth parties?’
‘We want to hear about all of them,’ she said, glancing over at Gabe. ‘Right?’
Gabe was looking at her like she was out of her mind.
After they got through Troy’s costumes, Elena quizzed him about highs and lows from past lines. Then she suggested they play Star Wars trivia, which she quickly realized wasn’t a good idea, because she couldn’t answer any questions about the prequels, and she didn’t want Troy and Gabe to guess that she hadn’t actually seen them.
Elena could have seen them by now. She could have watched all three prequels after her dad moved to Florida—but it still felt like she’d be betraying him. And even though her dad had betrayed her by leaving, she didn’t feel like watching Star Wars movies just to spite him. That seemed like it really would corrupt her love for Star Wars. ‘A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack.’ (Yoda.) Elena’s mom drove by a few times that morning. Elena just waved and tried to look like she was having the time of her life.
Nobody new got in line.
The highlight of Tuesday afternoon was when a photographer from the newspaper came by to take their picture.
‘I’m looking for the Star Wars line,’ he said. He had an oversized camera with a long black lens.
‘That’s us!’ Troy said.
‘Oh.’ He squinted at them. ‘I thought there was supposed to be a real line, like with people in costume.’
‘Come back on opening night,’ Troy said. ‘My Poe Dameron will knock your socks off.’
The photographer looked at Elena’s cheeks. ‘Is that Shrek?’
‘It’s Yoda,’ Gabe snapped. ‘For Christ’s sake.’
In the end, the photographer shot a close-up of Troy holding a photo of himself waiting in a much more interesting line fifteen years ago.
It was a humiliating setback for them as individuals and for the line as a whole.
(Ugh. They weren’t a line. They were just three cold nerds.) (They were three suckers who showed up for a party that didn’t exist.) (They were statistically insignificant!)
After the photographer left, Elena didn’t start another cheerful conversation. Gabe excused himself to walk around the block. Troy watched TV on his phone.
Elena took out her phone just long enough to take a photo of her flowered sneakers. ‘My legs are permanently asleep,’ she posted. ‘#LineProblems.’ Then she immediately put her phone away, before she could start wandering around online and enjoying herself.
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.’