by Emily Lowry
“I don’t want this,” she said, sniffing. “It’s for kids. Duh.”
I rolled my eyes. She whined more than anyone I’d ever met.
Dylan looked exhausted. “Then what do you want—”
“Give it to a kid,” Lauren snapped.
Enough was enough.
I stuck out my arms. “I’m a kid. Give it to me.”
Dylan looked at me skeptically. “You want a—”
“Gimme.”
Holding back a laugh, he tossed me the bulldog. It was almost as big as me.
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Are you going to name it, too?”
“His name is Samuel Danielson,” I said.
“That’s, like, super weird.” Lauren waved her hand dismissively.
Dylan laughed. “Chase’s middle name, Hailey’s last name. Smooth, Jones.”
“You know it.”
I carried Samuel Danielson awkwardly on my back while we continued through the carnival. The night was winding down, the crowds somehow both dispersing and getting more chaotic. We’d run out of games to play, but we were all tied up.
As far as I was concerned, that was unacceptable.
“Does anyone see any games we haven’t played?” I asked. “See anything up there, Samuel?”
“Ugh, it’s a stuffed animal,” Lauren said.
I pretended to pout. “Don’t you listen to her, Samuel. You’re a real dog.”
“You’re such a kid.”
“You’re such a kid,” I said, doing my best high-pitched Lauren imitation.
“What about that one?” Pete asked, conveniently cutting through the tension. Samuel and I spun to see what he was pointing at.
There was a small tent with pink and white stripes. Flickering pink light bulbs lined the canvas, and a big heart with a neon arrow stood out front. The arrow pointed to the entrance of the tent, over which hung a sign.
Love Match.
19
Dylan
Everything was pink inside the Love Match tent. The floor, the walls, the lights. It was like someone spilled Pepto Bismol everywhere and didn’t bother to clean. There were two couches and two tables. Flashcards sat on the table, pink markers next to them.
I held the curtain open for Lauren, Jordyn, Samuel Danielson, and Pete.
“Helloooooo,” Jordyn called. “We are here to be matched!”
A few notes played on an unseen piano, then a woman emerged from the back. She had a giant mole painted on her cheek and platinum blonde hair. A wig, probably. She wore the same dress as Ms. Piggy, and her nametag read “Love Doctor.”
“Hello, lovers,” she purred. She whisked around the room and subtly dragged her finger along my shoulder as she stepped behind me. “Are you here to find your true match? Your true love?”
“I’m here to win,” Jordyn blurted. She crossed her arms. As the Love Doctor neared her, Jordyn shifted away uncomfortably.
“There are no winners in love, I’m afraid,” the Love Doctor said. She examined Jordyn closely. “Especially for the unfortunates who walk with hearts in their eyes and songs in their hearts. It’ll all be dashed like a ship on the cliffs. Unless you visit the Love Doctor and find your true match. Then, your song will sing, and you will have your happily ever after.”
She turned from Jordyn, who pretended to gag.
I stifled a laugh.
“Please, find a spot on the love seats,” the Love Doctor said. “I will ask you four questions. You will write your answers on the flash card and pass them to me. Then, using my psychic gift, I will read your answers and determine the love match of each couple.”
“Highest love match wins,” Jordyn whispered.
I grinned. My cheeks hurt from smiling, as they often did when Jordyn was around.
She was so, so competitive.
Lauren and I sat on one couch, Pete and Jordyn on the other. We all grabbed a flashcard and a marker.
The Love Doctor stood in the center of the tent. She shook her hips slightly as she spoke. “Tonight, the world tilts on its side and we all tumble down, down, down. Where do you land?”
We stared at her.
Finally, Pete broke the silence. “Like in which country?”
“Or whatever, my love,” the Love Doctor purred. “There are no right or wrong answers. Follow your heart.”
How the heck was I supposed to answer that?
20
Jordyn
The first question was, if the world tilted on its side, where would you land.
I scribbled my answer:
I refuse to answer this question on account of it being stupid.
Satisfied, I handed my flashcard to the Love Doctor. She read it and the corner of her mouth twitched.
Pete looked at me imploringly. Probably trying to figure out what I wrote so he could just write the same thing and we’d be considered a perfect match. I pretended I didn’t see him.
When all the cards came in, the self-proclaimed Love Doctor announced her next question. “Dream a dream of your future. Tell me lovelies, what is it you see?”
I wrote my next answer:
I see another stupid question.
Again, I was the first to hand in my answer. And again, Pete tried to sneak a peek at it. The Love Doctor plucked it expertly away, and this time rolled her eyes as she read my answer.
The third question?
“An animal spirit resides within us all. Tell me, what is the name of the animal that resides within you?”
That was easy.
Samuel Danielson.
The Love Doctor took my card and smiled the most unfriendly smile I’d ever seen. I smiled back. I was under her skin. Exactly where I liked to be. I should’ve been trying to do things to help me and Pete win the competition, but there was no way I was standing for this ridiculousness.
“And the final question, my loves. When the clock strikes midnight, and there’s nowhere to run, to whom do you turn?”
I rolled my eyes. The Love Doctor’s big quiz was basically three meaningless questions, then a fourth that asked you straight up who you loved. It was a lot of pomp and circumstance for literally nothing. She was probably just going to read the name on the card and say they’re our love match.
Fine.
Two could play at that game.
I’d just write the name of my Love Match:
Samuel Danielson.
This time, the Love Doctor didn’t even read my card. She just shoved it in a stack with the others. When everyone finished writing, she shifted through them, then moved around the room, her pink dress flowing behind her.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had four young ones that were so unique. And yet, matches you both are.” She closed her eyes slowly, smiled, and opened them. “But there is one match that is much stronger than the others.”
Others?
Plural?
I glanced around nervously. No one else caught what she said.
“True love is not always where we want it to be, my loves. And through my experiments, it is clear that it is, in one place, stronger than the others.” She extended one hand to me, and the other to Dylan.
I did not like where this was going.
We each took her hand.
And she put our hands together.
21
Dylan
“It’s just a stupid game,” I shouted, tailing Lauren as she sprinted through the carnival towards the parking lot. “It’s all made up. It means nothing.”
Lauren spun, a storm in her eyes. “Means nothing? You’ve been all over Jordyn all night. I’m like your date, remember? You’re supposed to be all over me. But no. You can’t stop thinking about this stupid competition.”
I grimaced. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I knew she had a point. While I surely wasn’t ‘all over’ Jordyn, I probably spent too much time trying to beat her and not enough time paying attention to Lauren. But I wasn’t flirting. I just wanted to prove a point. I just wanted to wi
n.
“I’ll make it up to you,” I said, as we slipped through the exit, neither of us bothering to get our hand stamped for re-entry.
“And how are you going to do that? More stupid kids games? Another stupid carnival date?” Lauren nearly knocked over a pair of seniors as she stomped through the gravel lot. “You always take me on these stupid things that are supposed to be fun. It’s like you think, like, we’re kids. But we’re not kids, Dylan. We’re grownups. We should dress nice and go to fancy restaurants. Not… whatever tonight was supposed to be.”
“I thought it’d be fun.”
“And you were wrong,” Lauren said. “No one had fun tonight. You know why? Because, like, we’re not twelve, okay?” She threw her hands in the air and scoffed. “Whatever. I’m done.”
Done?
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Like, it’s over. I will not date someone who’s obsessed with someone else.”
Now it was my turn to scoff. “I’m not obsessed with Jordyn. She’s just a friend. And she’s Chase’s sister. She’s completely off-limits. Nothing can or ever would happen there.”
Lauren crossed her arms. “So. Would you say she’s like a sister to you?”
I paused. It should have been an easy thing to say. We grew up together. She was supposed to be like a sister to me. So why couldn’t I spit out the words? Was there something else going on? No. No, there couldn’t be. She was Chase’s sister. I opened my mouth to speak, but I was too late.
“Thought so,” Lauren said. “We’re done, and I’m leaving.”
I stood there, dumbfounded. This was supposed to be a cute double date, yet it ended with a break-up. It didn’t hurt as much as I expected. Maybe I was just in shock. I turned to go back into the carnival, only to find Pete also on his way out.
He looked upset.
“Pete, you all good?”
“She dumped me,” he said.
“What? Why?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Pete marched into the parking lot, his head down, his hands shoved in his pockets. He wasn’t looking where he was going and walked right into Lauren, nearly knocking her to the ground. They had a brief conversation, then disappeared into the darkness together, headed toward Pete’s car.
That made sense — I was Lauren’s ride. Jordyn, being Jordyn, drove herself.
I went to the entrance of the carnival, but it was being locked off.
“Can I get in?” I asked.
“Sorry, champ,” the security guard said, pulling down the metal gate. “No new entries after eleven.”
“Oh.”
I exhaled.
And, as if the night couldn’t get weirder, my phone vibrated.
A blast from Click. As much as I didn’t want to deal with whatever it was, I had to look. It was a picture of me throwing the stuffed animal to Jordyn.
Looks like someone might have taken an interest in Chase’s sister. Don’t boys have a code for this sort of thing?
A second later, my phone vibrated again. This time it was a text.
Chase: Dude?
Dylan: Sorry man. It’s Click. We were on a double date, Lauren didn’t want the bulldog, so I gave it to J.
Chase: All good. Just thought I’d check that you’re keeping an eye out for her.
22
Dylan
I threw eight patties on the griddle. They sizzled and spat grease onto my apron and forearms. I winced at the pricks of pain and poked the burgers with a spatula. It was a balmy Saturday evening and Beachbreak was packed. The crowd was crushing. Worse, both Luis and the other chef who was supposed to be on shift were sick, leaving me in charge of all the food preparation.
Order slips whirred by. Double cheeseburger, garden-style. Two quarter pounders with fried jalapenos and banana peppers. Veggie burger, garden-style. Six chocolate shakes, one with a scoop of peanut butter. I was scrambling as hard as I could to avoid drowning under the orders.
But, despite how insanely busy it was, everything was humming along smoothly — thanks to Jordyn. I wasn’t sure if it was her competitive drive or something else, but she might have been the only person on the planet who could match Sofia’s work ethic. Whenever I stepped out of the kitchen to check in on her, she was doing brilliantly.
Jordyn took orders and cracked jokes with customers. It felt like every time I looked over, someone was laughing with delight. As soon as I rang the bell to signal that food was up, Jordyn whisked it away to the right table. Heck, sometimes she grabbed the order before I could ring the bell. Her casual demeanor was perfect for handling the very few complaints we had, and during the rare times there weren’t customers, she took over the milkshake station.
In short: she was an all-star.
Time flew, and a few hours later, Jordyn turned off the ‘Open’ sign, dimmed the lights inside, and locked the door. She collapsed in an empty booth and exhaled. Sofia took the spot opposite her and they chatted. While they talked, I stayed in the kitchen, whipping up a quick surprise of my own.
I called it the Midnight Meal. It was the perfect thing to eat after a long shift. A burger for each of us with extra everything and two slices of melted pepper jack cheese. Fries seasoned with a sweet-hot combination of spices. And soda with a splash of vanilla. We couldn’t do milkshakes because the girls had already cleaned the machine.
“Order up,” I shouted, carrying the tray to the booth.
“Praise everything!” Jordyn said. She took a giant bite of her burger and sighed happily. “So good. Why don’t we have these on the menu?”
“Still fine-tuning things. But if that movie comes to film in Evermore, I’m hoping I have it right by then. Maybe I can present it to their team to help us win the catering contract.” I took a seat next to Sofia. “Try the fries. Different blend of spices.”
Sofia shoved three in her mouth. She shrugged nonchalantly. “I could get on board with this.”
“High praise, coming from you.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Sofia grinned. Her phone buzzed. “Luis is waiting for me. Catch you later.”
I walked her to the door, ruffled her hair — mostly to annoy her — and locked up behind her. Suddenly, I was keenly aware that it was just me and Jordyn alone in a dimly lit diner.
23
Jordyn
The fries, the burger, the soda — it was all delicious. Honestly, I was so hungry by the end of my shift that Dylan could serve a strip of boiled leather and I would devour it.
Burgers and fries? Even better.
Dylan sat across from me and picked at his fries. His Beachbreak apron was still tied around his neck. It made him look cozy in the cutest way possible. Like a guy who’d bake you cookies, then curl up next to the fireplace with you.
Whoa. Jordyn. Red light. Where did that come from?
I choked on my fries, then tried to disguise my choking with a cough.
“Easy, Jones. Not sure my CPR is up-to-date.”
I sipped my soda, then finished coughing. “Because that’s what I want — to be lying on my back while your mouth — with you — I mean — while you’re trying to — the point is, let me die.”
Dylan laughed. “You’d rather die than get CPR?”
“Depends who’s giving the CPR.”
He chuckled and stretched. Rather than untying his apron, he lifted it over his head. The bottom of his apron tugged at his shirt, revealing just the tiniest hint of tanned, smooth abs.
Very, very nice abs.
RED LIGHT, JORDYN. RED FREAKIN’ LIGHT.
Dylan glanced at me, a confused expression on his face.
Oh man, had he caught me checking him out?
Not that that’s what I was doing.
I would never, I repeat, NEVER, check out Ramirez. He was my brother’s best friend. I’d known him basically my entire life. And that was all he would ever, ever be. Even if he had muscles and abs.
JORDYN, SERIOUSLY. RED. LIGHT.
Dylan mowed down his fries. “
Can I ask you a question?”
“Didn’t really give me an option, did you?”
“Always so clever,” he said, smiling.
I inclined my head slightly. “Well, since you were so polite… go ahead.”
His eyes met mine. “At the carnival — why’d you break up with Pete?”
“Who says he didn’t dump me?”
“He wouldn’t dump you. That would’ve meant he had to tear down his shrine. And he worked so hard on it.”
I laughed, then took a sip of my drink. I had a choice to make. I could lie, crack a joke, and we could move on with our lives. Or I could tell him the truth. I decided on the latter — Dylan deserved the truth. “Promise you won’t do anything stupid.”
“We both know I can’t promise that.” Dylan rapped his knuckles against his head. “I’ve taken a few too many hits to not do anything stupid.”
“Fine. If you do something stupid, I’ll blame it on a concussion,” I said. Okay. Here goes. “After the Love Match game, when you and Lauren got in that fight, Pete… he tried to film it.”
Dylan looked puzzled. “Film it? Why?”
“He wanted to put it on Click. With a hashtag that him and I were the best couple.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Dylan took a bite of his burger, considering the information. He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “And you dumped him.”
I nodded. “He should know how I feel about Click. It blasted Chase. It blasted Hailey. No chance I will let it put someone else in the crosshairs. Especially not a friend. And…”
Dylan waited patiently. It was such a pleasant change. He wasn’t trying to anticipate my next sentence. Wasn’t waiting to throw his jacket in a rain puddle for me to step over it. In short, he wasn’t trying to save me, to keep me in a glass case like some valuable autographed football. He was just listening and letting me be me.