Page 38 of People Like Us

Wyatt sneered, “How is she supposed to play when she doesn’t have a character?”

A boy and girl whose matching honey-colored eyes and dark ringlets made their relation obvious unfolded a table in the center of the room with smooth, practiced motions. Penelope stood by another table, peeling cling film off a plastic dip container as she laughed at something the man beside her said.

His gentle features bore the telltale softness of Down syndrome. He seemed older than the rest of us, and I didn’t recognize him from school.

August shrugged, “We’ll make it work.”

Wyatt’s frown deepened. “We’re in the middle of a campaign, and I don’t have any extra miniatures for her.”

“I brought my own!” I chirped, handing August the bag of chips I’d carried. I plunged a hand into my bag and produced a sheet of character notes for Wyatt before my fingers made purchase on the tiny doll at the bottom.

Last year, for my birthday, Lindsey had brought me a cupcake with bright pink frosting, topped with a candle and an inch tall plastic Barbie figurine she had gotten from the dollar store and repainted to look like me. The blonde hair turned brown, and the once purple dress was now matte brown, with Mary Janes in the same color painted over the platform heels.

Holding it out for Wyatt’s approval, I caught Penelope’s curious approach. “No way! That’s so sick!” she exclaimed, eyes bright.

I offered a polite smile as Penelope pivoted so the man with her could see the doll. His face split into a wide grin. “Our little sister collects barbies,” she said.

“Very cool,” he said, extending a large hand. “I’m Evan.”

I shook it and replied softly, “I’m Lola.”

He glanced at August. “Are you August’s girlfriend?”

I laughed, the sound light. “No, we’re just friends.”

Evan raised an eyebrow in August’s direction. “What are you waiting for?”

August exhaled slowly. “She has a boyfriend, Evan.” The way he said it made me feel like if Andy didn’t exist, August would’ve made me his without a second thought. Like this could’ve been a normal Friday night for me.

But, somehow, I knew that wasn’t true. That me having a boyfriend was the very last thing on the list of hurdles August thought were in his way.

Evan’s grin widened. “A boyfriend isn’t a husband.” His words were playful wisdom, and I laughed again.

“Evan!” Penelope hissed. He shrugged, then snagged the chip bag August still held and wandered off to the snack table.

Penelope looped her arm through mine. “Ignore my brother—he thinks he’s Cupid. I’m glad you’re here.” She tugged me away from Wyatt, who still looked put-out. I glanced back at August who gave me a reassuring smile.

“This is Angelica, and her brother, Ben.” Penelope said, waving between the two setting up the table. Ben pulled a detailed printed map out, and was smoothing out the wrinkles as Angelica removed a clear bin full of miniature trees from an entertainment system pressed against the wall under a large flat screen.

“Guys, this is Lola,” Penelope announced.

“Are you two twins?” I asked, noting their flawless coffee-colored skin.

“I’m a year older,” Angelica said proudly.

Ben rolled his eyes. “She’s ten minutes older, but we were born on the cusp of New Years, so she likes to think she’s a year older.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Only to her,” Ben muttered.

Angelica turned back to me. “Are you playing with us?”

I lifted the Barbie. “If Wyatt lets me.”

August stepped behind me. “Yes, she is.” He held out a plastic cup full of potato chips in offering. I shook my head.

“Sit by me,” he murmured, pulling a chair to the corner of the table.