“Gladly!”
The three of us walk back up to the booth, with Bumble attached to my leash belt.
I wait for the throngs of people to recognize Dakota. It’s not just in my head. She’s a really big deal. The Grove has been ongoing since my parents met and bonded over it in high school. Every few years they bring in a new generation of actors, and sometimes a few even come back as adults to play teachers or parents or even villains. It addresses all the sticky issues a good after-school show does on top of having a sort of spooky setting where things aren’t what they seem and some townspeople (like Dakota’s character) even have supernatural abilities thanks to a mishap with the town’s water source that ended up causing a hereditary gene mutation. The more recent seasons have been sexier and darker, which has attracted a whole fresh crop of fans.
So yeah, Dakota Ash, whose style isn’t exactly feminine or masculine, is basically a modern-day heartthrob. Between her midnight Instagram confessionals about her sexual identity (lesbian), gender (she/her), racial identity (half white/half Latinx), anxiety (mingled with depression), and favorite off-brand cereal, plus her on-again, off-again relationships with various cast members, if you don’t dream of kissing Dakota, you at least daydream about being cool enough to be her friend.
Back at our tent, Matt splits off to find Ches and fill her in, though she is thoroughly unimpressed by all things The Grove.
I lead Dakota past the rows of dogs, their tails eager and waiting (the cats get way too stressed outside their element to bring them to events like this), back to a smaller adjoining tent where we have a table and chairs set up for adoption paperwork and foster applications.
Bumble spins in a circle beside us, fussily considering the best spot to sprawl out. After digging her paws into the grass for a moment, she plops down with her chin on Dakota’s foot.
A short and quiet “Awww” escapes me, and my head feels fuzzy with heart-eyes feelings.
Dakota grins. “I’m smitten. Where do I sign on the dotted line?”
“Well, actually,” I say, “we’re pretty serious about finding the perfect home for each pet—and that’s not to say you wouldn’t give Bumble the perfect home—but what happens next is that you fill out an application, including references, and then we send someone to do a home visit before we approve you.”
“Wow,” she says. “Well, ya know, I guess I’m glad you’re so thorough. Um, who exactly would be doing the home visit?”
The truth is that answer varies, because we’re so strapped for time and resources that it usually falls down to whoever lives nearest to the prospective adopter, but I’m having a hard time figuring out if Dakota is asking because she thinks I’ll be discreet and not publish her home address online or maybe she’s freaked out about me and doesn’t really want a fan all over her house. But I can’t ignore the vibe I feel between me and Dakota. Mom would have called it the special sauce—some unidentifiable connection—and hopefully I’m not the only one feeling it, because I think that maybe Dakota Ash might just be interested in being friends with me, Faith Stinking Herbert.
“Me,” I say. “If that’s okay with you, I could do your home visit. I could even bring Bumble to see how she does. Or we can arrange for someone else if you want.” I motion over to Dr. Bryner and Kit.
Dakota nods as she fills in the blanks on her application. “You gotta have Faith,” she says, quoting the exact George Michael song my parents named me after as she smiles to herself. (Most people assume my name is religious. They obviously never met my parents.)
“In fact,” Dakota adds, “you should probably go ahead and plan on paying a visit to the set too. If that’s cool with you?”
OMG. OMG. OMG. OMG. INTERNAL SCREAM. “Oh, yeah. Totally cool. If you think that’s necessary.” Cool as a cucumber.
She signs her name at the bottom, her signature tight with a dramatic D for Dakota and A for Ash. “Best to be a hundred percent thorough, right?” Bumble chuffs as Dakota prepares to stand, so she squats down so that they’re eye to eye. “It won’t be long until you’re home sweet home, baby.” She gives her a good scratch behind the ears and stands.
I look over the application. “And this is the best number to reach you at?”
“The one and only,” she confirms with a wink. “But maybe you could go ahead and give me your number in case I have any questions?”
“Oh, right. Of course!”
She hands her cell over, and I giggle at the fan-art version of last season’s poster she’s using as her screen saver, except in this version, everyone is drawn to look like bobbleheads.
“What can I say?” she says. “I’m a fan of the fans.”
I save my number in her phone and have to do everything in my power not to save it as some sort of pun or The Grove inside joke. Plain old Faith Herbert will have to do.
“I’ll call you for a home visit as soon as Dr. Bryner signs off on your application.”
Dakota looks at my number there in her phone. “I’ll be waiting, Faith Herbert.”
Bumble stands as she leaves, and I loop a finger through her collar just in case she plans on making another run for it.
A warm thrill rushes through my veins. There’s a tingling in my toes as the earth feels less and less solid, like I could just float up out of this tent and fly. I watch Dakota go, forcing myself to concentrate on staying grounded.
Matt and Ches rush through the flaps of the adjoining tent and I plant my feet firmly on the ground—it’s maybe the most self-control I’ve felt over my body in months.
“Tell us everything,” Matt demands.
Ches shakes her head in disbelief. “I don’t even care about that show, but holy cheezus, that girl was hot.”
I lead them back out to our main tent and proceed to put Bumble back in her crate. As we check everyone’s water and food, I spill almost every detail except one. I keep one little moment to myself.
You gotta have Faith, I hear Dakota say once more in my head. You gotta have Faith.
4
The rest of the weekend feels like that uncontainable buildup of energy you experience when you’re at a surprise party and are still waiting for the birthday person to arrive. I know a secret and I’m sure it won’t be a secret for very long. Dakota Ash is here, and not only is she here in Glenwood, but I spoke to her and she spoke to me and I think we might be acquaintances. Maybe even acquaintances on the highway to casual friendship?
What even is my life?
On Monday morning, Matt picks up Ches and then me for school. Matt and Ches always drive together, but Grandma Lou usually lets me take her car. Today she’s got a few doctor’s appointments and some errands to run, so Matt cheerfully scoops me up with an extra chocolate milk waiting for me in the back-seat cup holder.
Morning chocolate milk is something Matt and Ches have done since they were kids riding the bus together. It’s very much their tradition, but they’re always sure to include me when I’m around. I’ve known them for over half my life now, but there’s just something they share from knowing each other since they were in diapers and Ches’s mom was working a second job at Delgado & Sons.