Lulu grabbed Kimmy’s hand. Kimmy squeezed back.
In the hazy, glitter-glued summer of 2010, Kimmy Kimm and Lulu Chu ruled the narrow hallway of Westbrook High’s freshman wing. Not with cruelty, but with an unspoken, two-person empire built on shared ringtones and identical butterfly hair clips. 2010 kimmy kimm & lulu chu
But after the contest, sitting on the curb outside the mall with a shared soft pretzel, Lulu leaned her head on Kimmy’s shoulder. “We were the best, though.” Lulu grabbed Kimmy’s hand
They came in fourth place. The winner was a boy who played “Wonderwall” on an acoustic guitar and cried afterward. Not with cruelty, but with an unspoken, two-person
They didn’t do the matching vests. They didn’t do the chaos fairies. Instead, they walked up to the karaoke stage, grabbed the two microphones, and launched into a chaotic, joyful, slightly-off-key mashup of “Baby” by Justin Bieber and “Tik Tok” by Ke$ha. Kimmy rapped the verses. Lulu sang the chorus while balancing the top hat on Kimmy’s head.
A pack of eighth-graders sneered as they walked by. “You two are so weird.”