Freaky in Fresno

by Laurie Boyle Crompton

  Lana gives an obviously phony sigh and says, “I guess Aunt May’s terms are just too harsh. It’s a shame, but she should probably keep the car herself.”

  A part of me is super disappointed about the Skylark. I picture the convertible with a bench front seat and whitewall tires and a perfect pale-pink paint job, and I give a genuine sigh. But not even something that wonderful will convince me to allow Lana to reject me all over again.

  I don’t need to relive being discarded by my cousin.

  “I’m going back to my movie,” I say as I head down the hall toward my bedroom. I can hear Mom apologizing to Lana in a low voice and feel a pang of guilt.

  Blowing up at Lana in front of my mom was stupid of me. I’m still really upset about wrecking things with Jake, and I shouldn’t have taken out my dark mood on her.

  My mind flashes to the image of me and Lana laughing together in the back of Nona’s Skylark and I nearly turn around. But I’m always the one who feels bad and apologizes, and I’m sick of it.

  I play memory after memory of Lana starting to focus on her phone when we’d hang out, and then canceling the plans we’d make over and over, and then finally not even bothering to respond to me.

  In the end, I slam the door to my bedroom so loud I hear Zelda bark back at me from the living room.

  At least I’m the one who did the rejecting this time.

  chapter 3

  The next morning, I’m still worried things will be weird between Jake and me when he pulls up in his red Bronco to give me a ride to the Starlight. We’re supposed to help Wes test the sound system for tomorrow’s opening day by walking down each row of the drive-in lot, making sure everyone will be able to hear the movies loud and clear.

  Over the years, the Starlight’s audio evolved from giant metal speakers on individual poles that moviegoers would hang on their car windows to a dedicated radio station that would often result in drained car batteries, like Jake’s, at the end of the night.

  But now, thanks to the used equipment donated by our local Speaker Shack, we’ll have a sweet sound system for people who like to sit on chairs and blankets to watch the movie out in the fresh air, underneath the stars. Plus we’ll still have the radio option for those people who prefer viewing the movie from inside their vehicles.

  Of course, an open convertible offers the best of both worlds and the ultimate drive-in experience. But I close the top on that thought.

  “Tomorrow’s the big day!” Jake says as I slide into the passenger seat of his Bronco. “You ready to rock this sound check?”

  “What?” I yell, pretending to be deaf, and Jake laughs and blasts the eighties song “Super Freak” playing on the radio.

  And just like that, the cringy kiss-miss from yesterday is forgotten and everything is back to being great between Jake and me.

  When we make the turn into the Starlight we see a flatbed truck parked by the projection booth. We turn toward each other with giant grins on our faces because we know this can only mean one thing.

  “The projector’s here!” I practically squeal.

  “Rented projector,” Jake corrects but then whoops, “This is really happening!”

  Our shared happiness completely erases any residual traces of weirdness from yesterday.

  Of course, Wes has to go and make everything all awkward again as soon as he walks out of the concession shack.

  “You two lovebirds ready to sound check this place?”

  We both blush and Jake kicks at the asphalt.

  I ask Wes, “What movie are we using for the test?”

  Jake’s head snaps up. “May I suggest Hitchcock’s The Birds?” He cups a hand around his mouth and gives an impressive squawk. “The sound effects set that masterpiece apart.”

  “Yes!” I say. “I just re-watched that last night.” I cup a hand around my mouth as well and give Jake an ominous screech.

  He answers me with more creepy bird noises and it feels like everything is going to be okay. Better than okay. Our bird shrieks dissolve into funny little cheeps and tweets.

  Wes frowns. “I guess you two haven’t noticed Brad and Gwen, the two hanging out in the projection shed. They’re still setting up the system and it looks like it’s going to be a while yet!” Wes loudly directs the last part toward the big shed that serves as the projection booth. The door is open and inside we can see a man and woman in overalls, moving back and forth around a giant metal box that must be the rented projector.

  Gwen has a wrench in each hand and Brad looks over and calls, “It will just be a few more hours to get everything online.”

  “They’ve been saying that since five a.m.,” Wes tells us, then raises his voice. “As long as you hook it up perfectly for tomorrow night.” Wes may take movies even more seriously than Jake and me.

  “So, should Ricki and I maybe head out to grab a bite?” Jake asks. “Fat Jacks? My treat.”

  I nod at Jake and picture the two of us surrounded by life-sized cutouts of Marilyn Monroe and Elvis as we listen to fifties music and share a vanilla milkshake with two straws.

  We look at Wes, but he says, “Sorry. We need to get each one of these speakers checked in case there are any problems. We’ll just use music to test the acoustics.”

  “Sure. Rain check on Fat Jacks.” Jake winks, and the way the sunshine reflects off his face makes my stomach do the twist.

  “But Jake, this is May. In Fresno. It’s not going to rain here for a very long time.”

  “Right,” Jake says. “Sun check then.”

  “I like that.” I close my eyes and tilt my face upward. “Sun check.”

  When I open my eyes, Jake is watching me, and the two of us hold the moment for a beat. I take a mental picture of every sharp detail. I want to cling to this feeling. Thankfully, our romantic tension has been fully restored.

  Wes invades our taut force field, giving Jake a rough pat on the back. “I’ll go put on some rock ’n’ roll!” he says, and then notices Gwen and Brad are watching us instead of working. He claps his hands a few times. “Let’s go, people! We have a theater that deserves a second chance!”

  Just like Jake and me.

  * * *

  It turns out, when Wes said “rock ’n’ roll,” he actually meant something closer to classic eighties death metal.

  Jake makes a face of agony at the aggressive music and the two of us burst out laughing as we split up to walk the rows. We map out which speakers need to be made louder and which ones have a slight rattle or hum. Each time the two of us cross paths close enough, we pantomime dramatic rocking out. After a few passes I pretend to shout along with the lyrics and make air guitar moves that are both passionate and hilarious.

  I love making Jake crack up and can hardly wait until tomorrow night for our magical first kiss.

  Finally, the two of us meet in the wide center aisle in the middle of the drive-in. We greet each other with a wild improvised dance that’s a cross between the twist and something that I think may qualify as head banging.

  Jake takes my hand and swings me around, and the two of us shift into a kicking, thrashing, over-the-top mash-up that ultimately leads to us galloping arm in arm around the lot as we whip our heads up and down.

  All the nodding and swooning makes me so dizzy I almost fall, but Jake scoops an arm around my lower back and catches me.

  I burst into laughter, but when I look up at Jake’s serious expression I stop.

  And, okay, so I’ll admit this is a much better moment for Jake to kiss me than the perspiration-and-paint-speckled scenario from yesterday. And I will say I’m feeling a certain gravitational pull toward his lips. I even have minty-fresh breath this time. But it still isn’t Friday night, and there are zero glittering stars overhead, and so therefore this moment could never count as our Magical Starlight First Kiss Under the Stars™ that will last forever.

  Which is why, when Jake starts moving his face toward my face in that perfectly angled way that means he’s about to kiss m
e . . . I duck. Again. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I flinch away from the lips of the boy of my dreams, and this time it’s even more obvious and awkward. There are no paint rollers or poles to hide behind.

  It’s just me. In his arms. Outright recoiling from his kiss in horror.

  I stammer, “I-I-I . . . I’m so sorry.”

  “No.” Jake’s face is instantly bright red. “I’m the one who’s sorry . . . I just thought . . . I should’ve asked . . .”

  Before I can explain about waiting for our magical under-the-stars-at-the-Starlight kiss, there’s a loud roar of an engine and a giant cloud of drive-in dust rolls toward us.

  “Listen,” I say quickly, “I’ve been saving my first kiss for—”

  But Jake is looking to see who’s speeding into the closed drive-in in the middle of the afternoon. “What’s happening?”

  Two sharp barks ring though the air as if in response, and that’s when I recognize the vehicle racing toward us. It’s my Aunt May’s black vintage pickup truck with her three wolf dogs riding in the open back.

  The drama of my second near-kiss with Jake is forgotten as the truck circles us and the wolf dogs bark joyfully.

  Heroically, Jake places his body in front of mine, facing off the dogs as if they might jump out of the truck and attack us.

  “Whoa,” he calls to my aunt, “we’re dog-friendly, but we’re closed until tomorrow night.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, putting a hand on his arm. “This is my Aunt May, who I told you about. She lives about an hour and a half north and these are her wolf children.”

  “Oh!” Jake relaxes instantly. “Nice to meet you. Beautiful pups.”

  Aunt May jumps out of her pickup and runs a hand through her long, wavy red hair. She’s almost as tall as I am and her jewelry chimes with laughter as she envelops me in an earthy-scented hug.

  When she releases me, she starts nodding her head to the death metal music. “Righteous tune.”

  “This is Wes’s mixtape,” Jake says. “And yes, I’m talking about something that gets played in an actual cassette player, which he insisted the new system keep as an option.”

  “Brilliant.” Aunt May laughs. “And who is this fine young man?” She waggles her eyebrows at me and tips her head toward Jake.

  “This is Jake. My, er . . .” Crush. “Friend.”

  Jake reaches to shake her hand and instead finds himself dragged into a jingling hug as well. “Hello, Jake,” Aunt May says, “Ricki’s er friend.” She gives me a quick wink that makes me wonder if she’s psychic, or if my feelings for Jake are really that obvious.

  “What brings you to the drive-in, Aunt May?” I say. “I was hoping you’d make our grand opening tomorrow night, but we’re still getting things prepped right now.”

  “Don’t worry one bit, my dear,” she says. “I’ll be here tomorrow with bells on.” For emphasis she shakes her bracelet, making it ring. “I’m just here to see you and Lana together in the car.”

  “Wait . . . what are you . . . what?”

  But before I can properly articulate my confusion, a second cloud of drive-in dust rises up accompanied by the roar of an approaching engine.

  “And here she is now,” Aunt May says ecstatically. “In the pink convertible, exactly like your Nona’s.”

  The cloud of dust grows larger and thicker until I see a long pink hood emerging from the giant puff of smoke.

  I silently mouth the words pink Skylark convertible as it drives toward us. It really does look just like Nona’s car.

  Jake, Aunt May, and I all stand stock-still, and the wolf dogs bark gleefully as Lana drives around us once before stopping right in front of me. When the dust clears, I can see that my cousin’s smile is phony and her eyes are imploring. Like she’s begging me to please, please, please just keep quiet and swallow whatever hot mess she has cooked up.

  Lana calls, “Aunt May insisted she witness our first ride together in the car and your mom said you were here.” Her words all smoosh together in the way they always have when she’s lying about something. “I can’t wait, so come on, Ricki! Get right in and let’s go, go, go!”

  I narrow my gaze at her. “You didn’t tell her?”

  “What?” Lana says. “About the agreement we made to allow the car to work its magic and bond us back together again?” She is smiling so hard I have to laugh.

  “Not that . . .”

  Aunt May is suddenly behind me, shoving me toward the passenger side of the car. “Don’t worry, honey, you’ll get your turn to drive, but it’s only fitting that Lana take the first spin. After all, she is the older cousin.”

  “By a month and a half,” I say reflexively. Being considered younger has always seemed unfair when the two of us are so close in age, and Lana is clearly the selfish child here.

  I look into Aunt May’s hopeful and happy face and can’t bear to bust her bubble right now. She is obviously thrilled by her inspiration to “fix” our cousin relationship, and this vintage Skylark is in mint condition. It must’ve been expensive.

  With a sigh, I climb into the passenger seat and shift so I’m facing Lana. I introduce her to Jake and she jokingly holds out her hand as if he should give it a kiss. He gingerly shakes it instead.

  “So, you are Jake,” she says, and gives me an obvious wink that makes my face burn.

  Aunt May says, “Now this is what I envisioned when I found the car for sale. My two beautiful nieces. Together like a double-scoop cone all over again.”

  I push out a smile for Aunt May’s sake before I sit back in my seat and give Jake a weak wave. My hair whips backward as Lana peels out and heads straight for the Starlight exit.

  Between my clenched teeth I say, “What do you think you’re doing? We agreed we weren’t going to share the car.”

  “Listen,” Lana says. “We can work this out, Ricki. I need this convertible and I won’t allow your stubbornness and hurt feelings to rob me of this epic car.”

  “So, you’re saying you’ll let me use the Skylark for the drive-in’s grand reopening tomorrow night?”

  Lana grips the steering wheel and speeds up even more. “Grrrr! I can’t believe Aunt May didn’t trust me enough to drive away with the car on my own.”

  “So that was your plan?” I say. “To ride off into the sunset alone and lie to the rest of the family for as long as you could?”

  “Well, it didn’t take much time to get found out, did it? And now we need to follow through with sharing the car.”

  “Fine. Starting tomorrow night when I get to use it,” I say.

  Lana is silent for a few beats, and I actually have time to hope that she’ll be reasonable and let me have the car for my magical first kiss with Jake.

  “It’s perfect for the drive-in,” I say. “Like a good luck charm for opening night. After all, it’s not as if you could drive it up on stage with you at Digifest anyway.”

  Lana slaps the center of the steering wheel and the Skylark coughs a sharp honk. “That’s it! The extra zhoosh my appearance needs. Thank you, Ricki. I am absolutely driving this car directly onto the stage and will present my song from the driver’s seat. I can’t wait to tell my mom.”

  “You can’t just drive up onto a stage,” I say. “And besides, I’m telling Aunt May that this whole thing is a charade and that you are too selfish to share anything, just like you have been our entire lives. You could never even share a stupid popsicle!”

  “Popsicles are not sharable treats,” she shouts. “They are designed to be enjoyed individually.”

  “Agree to disagree,” I say, which I know drives her nuts. “My point is, you are completely incapable of sharing this amazing car.”

  “You are so frustrating,” Lana says. After a beat she gives a Cheshire cat grin and guns the engine. “But this car is truly amazing, isn’t it?”

  As the wind swirls through my hair, I can’t stop it from pulling the tiniest smile from my lips too.

  “The car’s
all right,” I mumble under my breath, but it isn’t easy to keep that smile small.

  Especially when Lana circles back and we drive underneath the Starlight’s archway marquee with nothing but the open air between me and Jake and our dream of saving the drive-in coming true.

  chapter 4

  By the time we get back to where we left Jake and Aunt May, the music has stopped and the wolf dogs have jumped out of the truck to wrestle each other wildly in the dust. Aunt May’s wrists jingle as she claps her hands for them to behave, but the pups completely ignore her.

  Jake is laughing at their gleeful insubordination. “Sweet ride,” he says to me when we pull back up. “Your aunt explained you two are sharing the convertible. You must be stoked for this summer!”

  Lana is typing on her phone. “I’m texting my mom about taking the car up on stage tomorrow night.”

  Aunt May says, “My one rule is that the two of you always look out for one another no matter what. Can you promise me you’ll have each other’s backs?”

  My cousin’s only plan for my back is to stab me in it. I swallow. “I’m sorry, Aunt May. I didn’t get a chance . . .”

  “Oh, yes!” Lana cuts in as she places both hands back on the steering wheel. “We abso-toot-o-lutely promise to have each other’s backs.”

  Wes appears beside us and steps up to Aunt May with his hands hidden behind his back. “Hello.” He smiles. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  Aunt May is distracted trying to corral her wolf dogs, so from the passenger seat of the convertible I say, “Sorry, Wes. This is my cousin Lana . . .” Lana smiles at him. “And this is our aunt May.”

  “May,” he says like it’s poetry. “What a lovely name.”

  Aunt May is still trying to convince the dogs to stop wrestling each other. “My sisters are April and June,” she says without looking up at Wes. “Middle child here. Always trying to force everyone to get along.” She emphasizes her words with tugs on her dogs’ collars.

  “Do you think your dogs might like a little snack?” Wes pulls his hands from behind his back, revealing a small, wilted-looking bouquet of hot dogs. “They got a touch of freezer burn, but I’ve warmed them up and I doubt the pups will mind.”