Flat Mia
& Flat Brooke

Mia and Brooke lived in Richmond, Virginia.

They had an apartment, two cats, and a table they shared for everything.

On one end: Brooke's case files. Highlighted. Tabbed. Very serious. A small Vanderbilt anchor and a tiny Spartan helmet held everything down.

On the other end: Mia's laptop, one flower in a small glass of water, and Ginny — asleep on Mia's notes.

Penny was on the keyboard.

The screen said: jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj

This was their life. And it was a very good one.

One evening, there was a party.

It was in a bookstore in Richmond — the kind full of fairy lights and tall shelves and people who loved Mia and Brooke very much.

Mia had just earned her master's degree in Library and Information Science, which meant she was now officially an expert in the thing she had always loved most.

Brooke had survived three years of law school and was only just beginning to believe it.

Both of them were smiling.

In the corner, a very large bulletin board hung from a very small nail.

On top of the bulletin board sat Penny and Ginny, perfectly balanced, watching everything.

The nail was doing its best.

Penny shifted.

Ginny shifted.

CRASH.

When the glitter cleared — and there was quite a lot of glitter — Mia and Brooke were still standing in exactly the same spot.

They were just a little... flat.

Penny sniffed Flat Mia with great interest.

Ginny looked at the bulletin board, then at the ceiling — anywhere, really, except at the thing that had just happened.

On a display stand near the window, a book had fallen open all by itself.

It was glowing.

On the cover, in gold letters: The Grand Tour of Mia & Brooke.

Penny sat down in front of it and meowed.

Ginny nudged Flat Mia toward it with her nose, slowly, as if she had always planned to do exactly this.

"We're going in, aren't we," said Brooke.

"Obviously," said Mia.

And just like that, they slipped inside — smooth as a letter into an envelope.

Penny and Ginny looked at each other.

Then they followed.

Vienna was very grand and very marble and very serious.

Flat Mia and Flat Brooke found the most beautiful café they had ever seen and sat down in a velvet booth.

A very elegant waiter brought them a menu.

It was large. Leather-bound. Illustrated.

Brooke opened it.

On the very first page was a picture of a pigeon.

A very large, very realistic, very grey pigeon.

Brooke closed the menu.

She opened it again, in case she had been wrong.

She had not been wrong.

Flat Brooke was already under the table.

Nobody knew how the pigeon got in.

One moment the café was calm and lovely. The next, a large grey pigeon was flying around the chandeliers like it owned the place.

It saw Flat Brooke immediately.

It landed on her.

Brooke did not enjoy this.

Then Mia reached into her bag and scattered a small packet of seeds on the windowsill.

The pigeon thought about it.

It chose the seeds.

Penny and Ginny appeared from opposite corners and herded the bird firmly toward the open window.

The window closed.

Brooke tidied herself up.

Mia took her hand.

That was that.

Spain was loud and bright and smelled wonderful.

Being flat turned out to be very useful in Barcelona.

Flat Mia and Flat Brooke slipped through market crowds. They squeezed between tables at a tapas bar. They pressed themselves against a Gaudí wall and looked, just for a moment, like part of the building.

Penny batted an olive off a plate.

They ate everything. They walked everywhere.

Brooke did not see a single bird.

It was a perfect day.

Paris was exactly as wonderful as everyone says.

Flat Mia and Flat Brooke sat outside a little café and ate pastries that were extremely good and also slightly too flaky for people who were already flat.

Penny pretended not to want anyone's croissant.

Nobody was fooled.

Then Mia noticed an envelope on the table.

It had a small winking face where the return address should have been.

Brooke opened it.

Inside: two tickets. Gold ink.

Harry Styles.

The sounds Flat Mia and Flat Brooke made next had never been made in France before.

Penny sat up very straight and looked very pleased with herself.

The arena was pink and gold and electric blue.

Harry was wonderful.

Flat Mia and Flat Brooke crowd-surfed all the way to the front, which was much easier than usual because they were flat.

They sang every single word together, as loudly as possible, without any embarrassment whatsoever.

They had an amazing night.

One moment Paris.

The next — the bookstore. The fairy lights. Everyone who loved them.

Flat Mia and Flat Brooke slid out of the book and landed on the floor.

Then Penny dragged something out from behind a shelf.

A bicycle pump.

She dropped it at Brooke's feet and sat back, looking very responsible.

Ginny supervised from a distance.

"You have got to be kidding me," said Brooke.

Penny meowed.

Pop.

Mia was back.

Pop.

So was Brooke.

Two graduates. Three dimensions.

Mia reached for Brooke's hand. Brooke was already reaching back.

Penny climbed onto Mia's shoulder and stayed there.

Ginny groomed herself in the corner and did not comment.

Later, when the party was over and the bookstore was quiet, two books sat on the display stand by the window.

The first one glowed softly. Its pages were warm. It had done its job.

The second one was brand new.

On its cover: a London skyline. A Scottish thistle. Two very small flat figures.

Penny and Ginny sat in front of it.

They looked at each other.

They had done it once, after all.