by Emily Lowry
One bumpy dirt road and a million unanswered questions later, we parked in an empty field. Chase killed the engine. A salt sprinkle of stars danced across the night sky.
“Is this where you murder me, Jones?”
Chase shot me a wicked grin. “Exactly.” He handed me a grocery bag from the back of the Jeep. “Snacks for the occasion.”
I peered inside the bag to find two giant bags of kettle corn. My favorite.
He remembered.
“And if you’ll excuse me for a minute…” Chase disappeared behind the Jeep and opened the tailgate.
What did he have planned? I tore into a bag of kettle corn, the sweet and salty mix swirling on my tongue. My heart was jumping in my chest. Here I was, alone, in the middle of nowhere with Chase Jones.
Chase Jones, who was making my heart beat way too fast.
What was he doing? And why did we come out into the middle of nowhere? Maybe he would pull out a telescope and we would look at the stars together. No, that would be more of a Nicholas move.
Nicholas. I hadn’t thought about him in forever. Why not? Wasn’t one of my main motivations for this fake relationship to get Nicholas’s attention? I LIKED Nicholas.
Didn’t I?
I decided not to let my thoughts follow those train tracks. They were bound to derail everything. This was my first date, even if it was fake. I was supposed to enjoy it, not fret.
Chase appeared at the passenger side of the Jeep and opened the door for me. “May I escort you to your seat, my lady?”
Under the moonlight, he was even hotter than usual. I had a sudden, crazy urge to jump into his arms as I climbed out of the vehicle.
Stop it, Abby! This is a fake date! He is doing you a favor; it means NOTHING. You like Nicholas, Chase likes Savannah. You’ve just become good friends. Buds. Pals. That’s all.
Chase preened, a proud peacock. I wondered if whatever was going on was something he had done in the past for real with anyone. Savannah? Madison?
Was I jealous? I shoved the thought aside.
“Hey, Mr. Quarterback, what cliché is this one?” I tried to make my voice sound normal to disguise my pounding heart.
“You’ll see.” Chase put his hands over my eyes and gently led me a few steps. “Welcome to the Jones Family Drive-in Movie Theater.” He pulled his hands away.
No. Freaking. Way.
This was not happening.
22
Abby
Lanterns dotted the area surrounding the Jeep, illuminating the darkness like fireflies. Ahead of us, a white sheet was pulled tight between two trees with lengths of rope.
The tailgate was littered with a stack of blankets and pillows, and a laptop lay in the middle.
“I’ve reserved the best seat in the house,” Chase said.
Still speechless, I climbed into the trunk and leaned back against a pillow. Whoa.
Chase climbed in and sat down next to me, close enough for our shoulders to touch. He flipped open his laptop and plugged a tiny projector into the USB slot. A black-and-white image appeared on the sheet.
Chase turned around to grin at me, excited. “Tonight, we will be playing a back to back of the finest vintage B-Movie horror classics I could conjure: Killer Klowns from Outer Space and, of course, The Blob. Only the best for the lady.”
Was this actually happening?
Chase grinned at me again. “But seriously, I hate horror movies, so you might need to hold my hand.”
23
Chase
I held my smile as long as I could. I don’t know what I expected. Applause? An approving nod? A declaration of love? I couldn’t read Abby’s expression. There was definite shock and surprise, but I couldn’t tell if it was the good kind or the bad kind. Did I go too far in my attempt to make her first date memorable?
And why was my heart beating so fast?
I’d gone too far. That was it. She wanted the regular clichés: candlelit restaurant, sharing popcorn in the movie theater. I had gone off book. But I’d wanted it to be special. The more I got to know Abigail Murrow, the more I realized how much depth she had. Some people were puddles, but she was an ocean.
I wanted to do something that she knew was done specially for her, and her only. I guess I’d crossed a line. This was strictly business, after all.
“If it’s too much—”
“It’s amazing.”
Relief flooded through me. This entire night had been a tornado of emotions. Trying to create the perfect first date. Trying to be a good friend.
Because that’s what we were. Friends. Weren’t we? Just friends?
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
Strictly business.
But if it was strictly business, how come Abby was the only girl I had ever thought about doing something like this for?
The opening credits of Killer Klowns from Outer Space played, but I didn’t take anything on the screen in. Instead, I was trying not to think of the fact I was sitting close enough to Abby that our arms were touching. I felt way too aware of her presence, her proximity, like the heat you feel when you hold your hand over a stovetop. How easy it would be to reach out and take her hand.
To touch her face.
To kiss her.
Shut up!
“Where did you even think about this?” Abby asked over the crackling voices from my laptop speaker.
“It was Jordyn’s idea, kind of.”
“Really?”
“Sort of.” I was growing close to Abby, but I wasn’t sure how honest I wanted to be. From the outside, my family looked like the American Dream. Married eighteen years, two kids, a white picket fence. But appearances could be deceiving. I’d never shared this part of my life with anybody. Should I really be sharing it with my fake girlfriend?
“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to,” Abby said quickly. She could read me like a book, that girl.
I hesitated. “My parents… they fight a lot. They always have. Always will. They won’t get divorced because they’re scared of what people will think.”
“My mom was like that for a long time.”
“Yeah?”
“So much.” The image of a giant clown reflected in her eyes.
“When we were kids, Jordie and I took off all the time. We still do. If you knock on our door there’s like an eighty percent chance we’re not home. It’s why I’m always on the football field. Or at parties or social events. Why I know all the best places to go. I take anything that gives me an excuse to not be trapped at home.”
Abby’s eyes met mine. Her eyes were so green, shining full of empathy.
She understood.
I took a deep breath and continued. “When we were little and they started fighting, I’d hide in Jordyn’s room and we’d watch movies on an old laptop. We did it our entire childhood. Once we were old enough, we stopped. Instead, we just stayed out of the house. I’d go to Dylan’s, Jordyn went to Hailey’s.”
“One night last year, mom and dad, they got into it pretty bad. It was two, three in the morning. Jordie woke me up. She needed to get out of the house immediately, but Hailey was at a cheer competition. She didn’t know where to go, but she needed to go. Anywhere. Just get away. I thought we’d find a cheap movie somewhere, but the theater was closed. Neither of us wanted to go back home. She was so sad. I can’t even… it just felt like the most important thing in the world that I got her to a movie that night. It probably sounds stupid.”
“It doesn’t,” Abby whispered.
“We went to the highway, figured we’d go to the next town and find a movie theater there. But it was too late. Jordie wanted to go back home, but there was no way I was letting her down. We pulled off the freeway and ended up here. All I had was my cell phone and some textbooks. So I stacked the textbooks on the hood, propped up my phone, and we watched Harry Potter until the sun rose and my battery died. It was — is — Jordyn’s favorite. The next time my parents got into it, we did the same thing. Onl
y we brought a laptop and some popcorn. Each time they scream, we come here. Each time, it gets a little bigger. Until you get what you see today. A projector and everything.”
I paused. That story was the most personal thing I’d told anyone in a long, long time. “And that’s the sad history behind the Jones’ Family Drive-In.”
24
Abby
My heart broke like a glass underfoot. Chase was right — the entire time I’d known him, I’d assumed he had the perfect All-American family, the perfect All-American life. I’d seen his parents in the stands at one of his games. They looked so happy together. I thought it was strange that Jordyn wasn’t sitting with them. Now I knew why.
“Chase…” I didn’t know what to say, so I took his hand. It was cold. “I’m so sorry. Was Jordyn ok with you taking me here?”
Chase swallowed a handful of popcorn. “She thinks you’re good for me. She said you looked like Hermione, which from Jordyn is the biggest compliment you can get.”
I smiled.
“What, Jones, you had some childhood crush on Emma Watson?” I raised my eyebrows. “Chase Jones, secret Harry Potter nerd?”
“My first crush.” He laughed.
I paused for a second. “I know what it’s like when parents fight.”
“Yeah?”
“My mom was obsessed with being perfect. Me, Katie, my dad — we had to do everything the right way. Her way. I tried to shield Katie from it as much as I could. We always had to look right, to act right. Like we were her little dolls. She was obsessed with how things looked to other people. When I was little, all I wanted was a big, messy Christmas tree. Like in a cartoon. Tinsel and colorful lights and goofy ornaments. But mom didn’t like the way it made the house look. So, she let us have two decorations. A Christmas tree with white lights only and tasteful silver ornaments that she put on herself, and a wreath for the front door.”
Chase was quiet for a moment.
“Bit of a grinch,” he eventually said, softly.
“Huge grinch,” I agreed. “But, as hard as we tried, I guess we didn’t fit her vision of the perfect family. I don’t know if it was dad, or if it was Katie, or if it was me. But she left. She didn’t say why. She just went one day. She has a new boyfriend now, he has kids. Feels like she replaced us.”
Chase squeezed my hand.
I squeezed back. “She doesn’t call much anymore. Just on the days she’s supposed to call. Holidays. Birthdays. Milestone events. It’s like she’s following this list of all the things you’re supposed to do if you’re a mom. Trying to make sure I’m on track to go to NYU like she did.”
We sat in silence for another moment — aside from the random screams from people trying to avoid being murdered by clowns on screen.
I felt Chase’s body tense next to mine as he disentangled his hand. I thought for a moment he would leap up, out of the way, and end the date. Take me home. We would drive in silence and pretend this heart-to-heart never happened.
But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned back and circled his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to him.
He didn’t say a word.
Neither did I.
If we talked, it might ruin this whole moment. Reality might come crashing in, a freezing wave over a fragile sand castle.
And so, I rested my head on Chase’s chest, listening to his heart thump beneath his shirt. His body felt warm, and his arm around my shoulder felt strong. His fingertips absentmindedly trailed up and down my arm. His touch made me feel dizzy. In a good way.
Such a good way.
The confusion swirling inside me was deafening amidst the silence.
I finally closed my eyes, and then, for a second, I could pretend that this was real.
25
Abby
In my dreams, our entire date was like a black and white movie. A full orchestra played, the music crackling like it was on an old record. Chase wore a black suit with a bowtie. A giant sign with flashing lights said “Jones Family Drive-In.” He held my hand and led me to my seat. We laughed, we talked, we ate candy. Just as the picture was drawing to a close, he turned to me and took my face in his hand.
I looked deep into his eyes.
Ever so gently, he pulled me towards him.
The music swelled.
Before our lips touched, I woke up.
I was lying in my bed, curled beneath the warm blankets. It was late October. Outside, the trees had all changed color, the maple in our backyard littering the lawn with giant red leaves.
Dad whistled from somewhere in the house. It was a catchy song — I think it came from an old school bubblegum commercial from forever ago.
I tried to ignore the sound, tried to close my eyes and drift back into my dream.
It had been a week since Chase and I’s clichéd date. I didn’t see Chase much in the past week — he was busy during lunch and after school every day, preparing for a rivalry game against the only other undefeated football team in our school’s division.
The game ended up being close, and for once it was Dylan, not Chase, that led the charge, as he plunged into the end zone for the go-ahead touchdown with only three minutes remaining. The defense did their part and Evermore remained undefeated. Still, Click was buzzing this morning with one thing that people apparently wanted to talk about more than Evermore’s unbroken winning streak: where was Chase Jones’s girlfriend last night at the game? Had they broken up?
The commenters were going wild, and the rumor mill was churning.
The truth was much less glamorous than the speculators on Click would have you believe. In reality, I wanted to be at the game last night, but I wasn’t allowed — Dad grounded me for coming home too late after my date. That punishment stretched to include Friday Night Football game appearances.
My additional punishment was almost worse. The morning after the date, Dad sat me — and Katie, despite her protests — down to explain the birds and the bees. The two of us squirmed and cringed through the entire lecture, while our poor dad tried his best to be a good, responsible parent.
As I tried to return to my dream, my stomach grumbled. The smell of sizzling bacon filled the house. Dad’s Saturday brunch special. Despite willing myself to return to the dreamy drive-in with my dreamy fake boyfriend, I couldn’t fall back asleep. Sigh. Why did the good dreams always end too early? And why was I so obsessed with the idea of kissing Chase?
I flushed at the thought. Last Saturday, in the back of his car, I had an overwhelming longing for him to do just that: kiss me. And I had tried, unsuccessfully, to get the thought out of my head ever since.
I got out of bed and threw on some sweatpants before plodding downstairs. Dad dished up a plate of bacon, eggs, and lightly buttered toast, and set it in front of me.
“So — have you learned your lesson?” He sat at the table across from me, crunched on a piece of burnt bacon, and washed it down with orange juice. Extra pulp, the only kind we ever have in the Murrow household.
“Yes, Dad.”
I wore my best ‘Apologetic Daughter’ face. It was the expression that said that no matter how disappointed he was in me, I was more disappointed in myself. Which was a lie. I would take being grounded for the rest of my life if it meant I got to have another date with Chase.
“Okay. But you have to promise me you’ll be more careful.” He shook a piece of bacon at me like he was a politician pointing a finger. “I know how easy it is for time to slip away when you’re out with your friends.”
Dad, despite his progressive nature, had a tough time verbalizing that I had been out too late by myself with A Boy. It was like he thought that if he said it out loud, that would make it real. Not that I blamed him — he was a single dad raising girls. I tried to imagine myself in his shoes by thinking about how protective I was of Katie. I couldn’t imagine what I would do if she stayed out past curfew. I wanted to make sure she was safe at all times.
“You are ungrounded,” Dad said. “But you st
ill have a curfew. If you break the curfew again without calling, there’ll be some punishment.”
“Real vague, Dad.”
“I’m hoping you just won’t break curfew again.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
We finished our breakfast, then I hurried to my room to get ready. Now that I wasn’t grounded, I had one thing and one thing only on my mind. I texted Chase and eagerly awaited his reply.
Too eagerly.
It was clear, even to me: I’d developed very real feelings for my very fake boyfriend.
Long story made short: I was screwed.
26
Chase
My shoulder was sore, my ribs were bruised, and there was a cut on the back of my hand, but none of that mattered, because I was about to see Abby. As promised, she texted me immediately after her punishment was lifted and we made plans to go for a walk through the city park.
I told myself this would be an excellent opportunity to get seen in public and get some hits on Click to dispel the rumors of our break-up.
That’s what I told myself, at least. What my brain wasn’t prepared to answer was why, if this was all for appearances, had we chosen the city park to meet up? Somewhere nobody from our school ever hung out. Especially not in the late October chill.
I paced in front of a park bench excitedly. It was the same excitement that coursed through my body in the locker room while I was waiting to take the field for a big game. Around me, the birds sang, and the yellow and orange leaves rustled in the fall wind.
Abby arrived, and I felt my heart accelerate. She was wearing a grey peacoat and a pink wool hat. The cool wind made her cheeks rosy. Her long, dark hair was loose and shiny, falling around her shoulders.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she said.
“I’m happy you escaped prison, finally.”