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.”

She realized now that the coffee was a set-up.

It was two in the morning, and Elena was going to wet her pants. She looked up the line. Troy was wrapped in sleeping bags and a polar fleece, like a mummy. Gabe had pulled his knees up and tucked his head down a few hours ago.

Elena had been sleeping. Badly. She felt groggy and out of sorts and her bladder actually hurt.

She kept fidgeting. Gabe lifted his head. “What’s wrong? Are you cold?”

“No,” Elena said. “I mean, yes, of course. But no—I’m going to wet my pants.”

“Don’t do that,” Gabe said.

“I can’t help it. What am I supposed to do?”

“Go pee somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Behind a car or something.”

“That’s illegal!” Elena said. “And gross!”

“Not as gross as peeing your pants.”

Elena closed her eyes. “Ughhhhhhhhhhh. Where have you guys been peeing?”

“Inside the theater,” he said.

“Don’t you ever have to go at night?”

He shrugged. “No.”

Elena felt tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” Gabe said. “That won’t help.”

She kept crying. It was going to happen soon.

“OK,” he said, standing up. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To let you pee.”

“We can’t leave without telling Troy,” she said. “Code of the Line.”

“The Code of the Line also includes not soiling it. Come on.”

Troy had an extra-large Coke cup, and Gabe grabbed it. Elena got up, carefully, and followed him around to the back of the theater.

“OK,” he said, holding out the cup. “You go behind the dumpster, pee in this cup, then put it in the dumpster.”

“What if there are cameras?” Elena said, taking the cup.

“I can’t help you there. This isn’t Mission: Impossible, you know?”

“But what if I need to pee more than this?

I don’t know how much I pee.”

“If your bladder held more than forty-four ounces, you wouldn’t have to go to the bathroom constantly.”

She stood there, biting her lip.

“Elena.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have any other options here. Pee in the cup.”

“Right,” she said. She walked, carefully, to the other side of the dumpster. “I don’t want you to listen!”

“Is this the first time you’ve peed around another human being?”

“Around a guy,” she shouted, “yes!”

“I didn’t ask for this!” Gabe shouted back. He started humming loudly—“The Imperial March”. It made Elena feel like her mom was coming.

She carefully peeled down her layers and hovered over the cup, trying not to touch it, and trying not to splash, still sort of crying. Gabe kept up the loud humming. When Elena was done, she put the lid on the cup and walked out. “OK,” she said.

“Gross. You were supposed to throw it away.”

“I’m going to pour it down a storm drain! So it doesn’t spill on anyone.”

“Whatever,” Gabe said.

When she’d disposed of the pee, and the cup, she sat back down next to him and dug in her bag for a wet wipe.

“I should just go home,” she said, scrubbing her hands.

“Do you have to pee again?”

“No.”

“Then why do you want to go home?”

“Well, obviously I’m not prepared for this!” She waved her arm around, encompassing the cold, the line, the trash can, the storm drain . . . “And it isn’t how I thought it was going to be.”

“How’d you think it was going to be?” Gabe asked.

“I don’t know—fun.”

“You’re camping on a sidewalk with strangers. Why would that be fun?”

“It always looks fun. In the pictures. Like, tent cities. And people meeting in line and making friends for life. Getting matching tattoos.”

“You want to get a matching tattoo with Troy?”

“You know what I mean.” She threw her wadded-up wet wipe on to the ground. “I thought it was going to be a celebration, like a way to be really excited about Star Wars with a bunch of other people who are really excited about Star Wars. Like in Troy’s stories. Like the time they all camped out for two weeks to see Return of the Jedi and ended up with soulmates and nicknames. The practical jokes that went on for days! The lightsaber battles!”

“You could still end up with a nickname,” Gabe said. “Right now I’m thinking something to do with pee. Or cups.”

Elena wrapped her sleeping bag tighter.