I shove my phone in my pocket as soon as Maya cracks open the passenger door. Barely 10:45 in the morning, and every organ in my body is cranked up a hundred.
Maya eyes me, equal parts suspicious and amused. “Who are you texting?”
I pause. “Sophie.”
“Is she excited for tomorrow?” Maya clicks her seat belt, twisting around to face me. “I bet your mom’s so stressed.”
“Yeah, it’s been intense. They’re at the rehearsal right now, and there’s a Shabbat dinner thing for the out-of-towners tonight. Oh, and Mom’s freaking out, because we had to replace our DJ last minute, and the new one keeps mispronouncing ‘Hava Nagila.’”
“Do you think it will be okay?” Maya asks. “I mean, he’ll be playing a prerecorded version of it, not singing it himself, right?”
“Oh, totally.” I sneak a glance at my phone in the cup holder. “She’s just looking for stuff to worry about.”
“Well, it will all be over by Sunday. Then you can just go back to worrying about the election.” She rubs her forehead. “I can’t believe how stressful this is. We’re not even really part of the campaign. How do people do this every election cycle? Why does anyone want to run for office?”
“I used to want to.” The words slip out before I fully realize I’m saying them. “Run for Congress, I mean. I guess . . . I’ve thought about it.”
Maya smiles faintly. “Really?”
“It’s stupid. Can you imagine?” I laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Giving speeches all the time, trying to talk people into choosing me—”
“I’d choose you,” she says.
“You would?”
“Of course.” She nods emphatically. “You’d be an awesome congressman.”
“I’m not exactly the politician type.”
“So? I wish more politicians were like you. You’d be so great. You’d always vote with your conscience, you’d work twice as hard as everyone else, and, I mean, you’d actually listen to your constituents. That’s huge.” She pokes my arm. “What a game changer. You should totally do it.”
She thinks—
I don’t trust myself to speak. I just gaze at the road, head spinning. Maya thinks I should run for office one day. She said I’d be awesome. A game changer.
She said she’d choose me.
Which is ridiculous.
But maybe it’s not.
By the time we pull into the campaign office, my stomach’s churning with nerves. Maya peers around the almost empty lot, looking relieved. “Thank God. I really thought we weren’t going to find parking last time.”
“Right?” My voice can barely choke out one syllable without jumping.
Maya unclicks her seat belt, yawning. “Weird that Gabe wants us to canvass at eleven on a weekday. Is he sending us to an office complex?”
She starts to open the door, but I blurt, “Wait!”
Way too loudly. Maya raises her eyebrows at me, smiling.
“Let me just make sure . . . Gabe is ready for us.” I pull out my phone.
“Since when do we make sure Gabe is ready for us?”
“I’m just . . .” I tilt my phone up, so she can’t see what I’m texting. “You know.”
Maya laughs, idly tapping into her own phone. “Why are you acting so shady?”
“I’m not.”
She stares me down. “Are you up to something?”
“What would I be up to?” I glance quickly at the dashboard clock. 10:59. 10:59. 10:59.
Neither of us speaks.
10:59. 10:59. 11:00.
“Okay!” I say quickly. “I think we can go in now.”
“Okaaaaaay.”
Maya’s definitely side-eyeing me—but I’m pretty sure she’s also biting back a smile. We hop out, and she follows me up the stairs to the side-access door. But just as I reach for the door, it bursts open.
“Hi, loveys!” Grandma bustles out the door, pausing only to hug us both. “Don’t mind me! Just clearing out. I don’t want to keep you! I know Jamie’s been—”
“Getting ready for a canvassing day!” I shoot Grandma a pointed look. “A regular canvassing day.”
Grandma’s mouth snaps shut. “Well, look at the time! Past eleven. I better get home and walk that pup!”
“Pup.” Maya laughs.
The campaign office looks empty at first glance, but I can hear low, murmuring voices coming from behind the white video backdrop.
I call out, “Hello?”
“Back here!” Gabe announces, stepping into view.
Maya looks at me questioningly. “Are we filming another video?”
“Not exactly,” I say—but before I can finish, Jordan Rossum steps out from behind the backdrop. Maya’s eyes flare wide, and she lets out a noise so faint and high-pitched, it almost makes her Jim and Pam squeaks seem gruff.
“Hi!” Rossum steps toward us, hand extended. “Maya and Jamie, right? I’m Jordan.”
I shake his hand. A moment later, Maya unfreezes and does the same.
“Your Fifi Gets Flipped video was amazing. And Gabe tells me you’re two of his top canvassers too. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
Maya stares at her hand, looking awestruck—and then back up at Rossum. “It’s . . . so nice to meet you.”
“Are you kidding? So nice to meet you,” he says warmly. “You guys are rising seniors, right?”
Maya’s eyes flick toward me, mouth falling open. I know exactly what she’s thinking.
Rossum—Jordan Rossum—knows who we are.
Not going to lie—it really is pretty wow.
“Yup,” I manage. “I—uh. I’m at Riverwild and Maya’s at Stanley.”
“Nice. I went to Gallovin, but I knew people from both at Hebrew school.”
“That’s so cool.” Maya’s voice comes out breathless. And when I sneak another sideways glance, she’s twisting the ends of her hair between her fingertips.
She is, hands down, the cutest fangirl ever.
Gabe ambles over, collapsing a small tripod as he walks. “We just shot some sweet new video for the final social media push,” he says. “It’s Get Out the Vote time! GOTV, baby!”
Maya turns to Rossum. “How are you feeling?”
“Good! Definitely nervous.” He half smiles, half grimaces. “It’s my first time running for office. But the response has been incredible, and I’ve met so many awesome people. I feel really good.”
“You got this, bro.” Gabe pats his back. “Hey, let me steal my dude back for a sec. Gotta grab a few still shots to promote the vids.”
The vids. Wow. Gabe is even more Gabe when he’s trying to impress Rossum.
“Sorry!” Rossum smiles apologetically at Maya and me. “Should just take a second. Hold that thought.”
They step back behind the cloth.
And the minute they’re out of sight, Maya doubles over. “OH MY GOD,” she mouths.
“Surprise!” I whisper. “I knew you wanted to meet him, so I got Gabe to—”
She flings her arms around me. “You’re the best. Jamie! Is this real life?”
The look on her face makes me feel—I can’t even describe it. It’s like beating every level of every video game. And getting elected president of the universe. And being buried alive in puppies. All at once.
“I knew something was up,” Maya whispers. “But God. I had no idea. And he’s so sweet and down to earth! He really is awesome.”
“I know! It’s an accurate slogan.”
She hugs me again, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I can’t believe we’re meeting Jordan Rossum.” She draws back slightly, meeting my eyes. “Thank you.”
“Better than canvassing in an office complex?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Maya looks at me, beaming—and there’s this tug in my chest.
“Okay, we’re back!” says Rossum, stepping around the backdrop again. Maya disentangles from the hug and clasps her hands together.
She’s standing closer to me than before. So close, I can barely think straight.
“Sorry about that. It’s so hard for me to get a good picture. I make the most awkward faces.” Rossum demonstrates, stretching his lips into a panicked-looking smile.
Maya and I both laugh. I can tell she’s totally charmed, and I don’t blame her one bit. Rossum’s the good kind of awkward—the cool, self-deprecating kind, with that sturdy, quiet nerd confidence. I’d give anything to be like that.
“So, what was your most memorable experience on the campaign trail?” asks Maya. She still looks slightly flustered, but she’s starting to sound like herself again.
“Huh. Good question. Well . . .” Rossum turns to me. “Your grandmother brought me to an elderly Jewish singles mixer.”
“To set you up?” Maya asks, looking delighted.
Rossum smiles, cheeks flushing. “Probably? I don’t know. She told me it was a meet-and-greet for Jewish seniors, but . . .”
“Did you get any voter commitments?” I ask.
“Lots. And a couple of phone numbers.”
Maya giggles. “Wow.”
“What about you guys?” asks Rossum.
“You mean did we pick up any Jewish seniors?” Maya shoots back.
Rossum snorts. “That is definitely what I meant.”
“Not yet.” Maya nudges me. “Maybe your grandma can set me up with a bat mitzvah date.”
Gabe grins. “Isn’t Jamie—”
“So!” I say quickly, turning back to Rossum. “I was wondering . . . could we get a selfie?”
“Of course!” Rossum says. “Let’s do it. Right here?”
Gabe’s face brightens. “Actually, why don’t I get some pictures of you three together for Insta!”
Soon, we’re being ushered out the side by Gabe, who suddenly has very strong opinions about natural sunlight. “Right there. Brick wall. Great. Big J, you stay in the middle.”
I look back at him, confused. “I’m not—”
“Not you. Other Big J. Bigger J.”
Rossum leans toward me. “He calls you that too?”
I laugh. “Yup.”
“Great. Great. Okay, everyone, look at me. And . . . smile!”
“Wait!” Maya bursts out of formation, jogging toward Gabe. “Will you take one with my phone?”
“Oh, good call,” Rossum says. “If you post it on Instagram, tag me! Then I can follow you.”
Maya looks like she might burst. “Oh! Okay, yeah!”
“Aww, cuz.” Gabe smiles knowingly at me from behind his phone. “Bet you wish you had a ’gram!”
“I’m starting one,” I say. Out loud, apparently.
Maya grins. “Oh, Jamie! That’s awesome!”
Well, now I kind of have to, right? Because what could be a better inaugural picture than a shot with Maya—and Jordan freaking Rossum?
Ten minutes later, Gabe heads back inside to make phone calls—and Rossum heads out to his car. The minute he pulls out of the parking lot, Maya presses her hands to her mouth, letting out a muffled scream.
“Oh my God oh my God oh my God.” She’s bouncing again—almost dancing. “That just happened. Look.” She waves her phone in front of my face. “Look how cute we are. Ahh! Okay, I’m texting you this.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. “Got it!”
Maya hugs me. “And it’s about time you got on social media. Your grandma will be so happy. She told me you’re too cute not to be on Instagram.”
I nod. “Sounds like Grandma.”
Maya smiles up at me. “Well, it’s true.”
There’s a tiny, fluttery yank below my stomach. Is Maya . . . flirting with me?
Nope. No way. She’s just comfortable calling me cute because we’re so clearly, unambiguously platonic. After all, she was cosigning Grandma when she said it. So she probably means it in a grandma way.
“We have to take a selfie together too,” she announces, “so you can post it on your account. That way, when you’re a famous congressman, you’ll remember me. I’ll always be your first Instagram selfie.”
I smile. “You really think I’d forget you?”
“Nah.” She smiles back. “I won’t let you.”
The next thing I know, her face is smooshed against mine. I snap the picture, and then bring my phone back to show Maya.
“Okay, am I just in a good mood, or is this the greatest selfie ever taken?”
I grin. “I think you have a Rossum high.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yup. Giddy, glowing, can’t stop smiling.” I look at her. “You have all the symptoms.”
“Sounds serious,” Maya says.
“It is.” I nod. “I better document this.” I hold my phone up in front of my face, camera-style. Maya leans back against the loading dock railing, and I swear, her eyes are shooting off sparks. She presses her hands to her cheeks, smiling hugely.
I sneak a peek at the photo, before looking back up at Maya.
She’s so beautiful. Just ridiculously beautiful.
Maya wrinkles her nose. “Am I doing the eye thing?”
“The eye thing?”
She widens her eyes to demonstrate. “Like the big bullfrog eye thing. I don’t know. I think I do it when I’m trying not to blink.”
“You look perfect,” I say.
Maya looks up at me. “Okay.”
The air feels suddenly charged.
She clears her throat. “So, I guess we better get you home so you can set up your account.”
“My account.” I scratch my neck. “Should I follow Sophie? I’m kind of scared to follow Sophie.”
“Definitely follow Sophie,” she says, falling into step beside me. “But follow me first. Oh my God. Now you can actually see my pictures!”
I inhale quickly. “I have to tell you something.”
“Oh yeah?” She smiles expectantly.
I stare at my feet. I don’t have a clue how to begin. “Okay. I feel really stupid now, but remember when Grandma first followed you on Instagram?”
Maya nods slowly.
“That wasn’t Grandma. That was me. In her account.”
“Oh.” Maya stops walking. “Okay.”
“And I wanted to tell you, but you were so excited that she followed you, and I didn’t want to take that away. But I should have told you anyway. Or not done it. I’m so sorry, Maya.” My voice breaks, just barely. “You deserve to know who’s actually following you.”
“That’s true.” She frowns. “I mean, I knew you ran the account sometimes.”
“Still.”
She looks like she’s debating what to say. But then, after a few moments, she meets my eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you—”
“It’s fine, I guess. I mean, don’t, like, do it again—”
“I won’t. I promise. From now on, I’m my own man on Instagram.”
She looks up at me, with a hint of a smile. “I’m looking forward to that.”