Freaky in Fresno

by Laurie Boyle Crompton

  As soon as he leaves, Jake says, “Wes was furious about that guy this morning. And now he ends up taking his business card?”

  “I can’t believe the nerve of that guy, showing up and trying to force a sale today of all days,” I say.

  “Wes never even agreed to hear offers on the Starlight,” Jake says. “That real estate crook had zero right to list this property.”

  “Well, we won’t know anything until tonight either way,” I say. “Because unless the crowds show up, none of it matters.”

  “I feel a little sick to my stomach thinking about it,” Jake says.

  “I’m still hoping for the best. Maybe Wes is planning to give my aunt May one of those magical Starlight kisses tonight.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jake looks skeptical, and I see an opening to fix all our kiss misses.

  “Starlight kiss magic! Like the T-shirts say! A kiss under the stars guarantees a great romance. Ricki talks about magic Starlight kisses all the time.”

  “Lana, I don’t think you know your cousin all that well,” Jake says. “Ricki is not the romantic type. In fact, you could almost call her the aggressively nonromantic type.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” And wow, have I ever been blowing it if my crush thinks I’m aggressively nonromantic.

  He says matter-of-factly, “Her favorite romance is The Bride of Frankenstein.”

  I hide my smile at Jake knowing my favorite romance and say, “Ricki is actually super romantic when it comes to the Starlight Drive-in and getting her first kiss here under the stars.”

  He squints at me as if he thinks I’m joking.

  “It is really important to her,” I say. His expression is so frustrating that if I was myself at this moment, I’d just go ahead and kiss him here and now, right over the greasy counter.

  I’m imagining that kiss when I feel a hand on my shoulder and spin around to find Erik, burning holes into me with his blue eyes. His hand squeezes my shoulder and he asks me, “Lana, is it true?”

  * * *

  “Uh . . .” I have no idea what Erik just heard. His grip on my thin shoulder is urgent and I don’t like how vulnerable my size makes me feel. “What did Ricki tell you?”

  I look around for my cousin. I need to know if Erik’s mad at me right now for some prank she’s playing. And if so, what that prank is.

  Just then Lana bursts through the door at full speed, reminding me just how tall and intimidating I look when I burst through doors at full speed. It’s awesome.

  Erik barely looks at her, but he’s staring at me, and I wait for him to say this is just some prank he twisted back around on me. In fact, I realize he has a small camera palmed in his left hand, aimed directly at our faces as if to catch my reaction.

  I turn to my cousin. “Ricki? What did you say to Erik?”

  Erik runs two fingers gently down my cheek. “Is this why you’re not wearing makeup?” he asks. “Not even lipstick?” He smiles genuinely. “Lana, you are so naturally beautiful, you stun me.”

  He moves closer as if he’s about to kiss me, which would be wrong on every level. I mean, Jake is standing right there, and he has unsuccessfully tried to kiss me twice now. And I want to kiss Jake.

  “Ricki??” I whine like I’m Lucille Ball.

  Lana rushes between Erik and me. “It was supposed to be a prank,” she says. “Sorry, Lana, I got carried away.”

  Erik looks disappointed a moment and allows his hand to drop from my cheek. With a deep breath, he looks back and forth between me and my cousin. His small, sad smile lands on me and he turns off the camera he’s been palming, placing it on the snack counter.

  “What about the things you’ve been telling me?” He leans closer and lowers his voice. “About the trolls getting to you?”

  I think of the dark weight I’ve been wrestling all day and look at Lana, feeling as if a protective inner wolf dog is waking up inside me. I mouth the word trolls at her and she hugs herself, rubbing her arms.

  A phone starts buzzing and my cousin glances at hers. Her brown eyes widen at the screen. “We need to fix this!” Her voice cracks. “It’s my mom! She must’ve been watching the live feed.”

  Erik doesn’t break eye contact with me. “Why would your cousin’s mom freak out about you possibly quitting your show, Lana?” His laser focus on my face is making me start to sweat.

  “Wouldn’t that be her aunt?” Jake says, but everyone just ignores him.

  “Lana is not quitting her show,” Lana says. “We just needed something to film to generate some buzz before Digifest. I obviously suck at pranks.”

  Erik says, “Lana, you need to know that if you do decide to ghost BubeTube, I’m all in.” He laughs. “Or maybe that should be, I’m all out.”

  He dips down again as if to kiss me, and I turn my face so far to the side he kisses my earlobe. He pauses, brushes the blonde tendrils back from my ear, and whispers, “It’s okay to walk away.”

  Lana holds up her phone with one hand and flails the other. “It went to voice mail. It went to voice mail. This is really bad, guys.”

  It seems like the bond between Lana and her mother has turned into a choking hazard and Lana’s the one being choked.

  I say, “All moms worry when they can’t reach us, but she’ll probably just text you . . .”

  Lana looks at her phone and gives a high-pitched “Eep.” We all look at her. “She texted me.”

  “See,” I say, “she’s just . . .”

  Lana holds up her phone. “It says, ‘I saw the show,’ with a nuclear explosion emoji.”

  My cousin and I lock eyes in fear. “She had to scroll for that emoji.” Aunt April is not a fan of emojis and loathes my mother’s effusive use of them.

  Jake asks Lana, “What’s going on, Ricki?”

  I say, “Oh, her mom is just, um . . .”

  My cousin interrupts me. “She’s calling again.” Lana holds up her phone. “No, worse! Now she’s FaceTiming.” She starts hyperventilating. “I have to answer.”

  I spring toward her but I’m too late. In a panic, she swipes to answer and winces at her phone.

  Looking over her shoulder at the screen, I see a furious-looking Aunt April.

  “Ricki, is that you?” Aunt April’s voice streams from Lana’s phone. “And Lana? I see you! Do not try to hide from me. What were you two thinking, pulling a stunt like that?”

  “Hi, there, you,” I say, taking the phone from Lana and holding it so the boys can’t see the screen. “I guess you caught Ricki’s adorable little prank.”

  Jake looks at Lana. “Ricki, why does your mom’s voice sound off?”

  She blinks and says, “Oh, she’s practicing a new character for her improv troupe.”

  I grab my cousin’s arm before she can tell any more unnecessary lies, and head outside. “Excuse us,” I shout over my shoulder.

  Except now Lana is moving like one of the living dead and I practically have to drag her through the glass doors that lead out the front of the concession stand.

  It’s as if the stress of all this has finally caught up to her and the idea of facing her mother—or in this case FaceTiming her mom by proxy—is weighing Lana down so much she can barely move.

  * * *

  “Lana!” Aunt April’s voice explodes from the phone when we get outside.

  I hold it up and give her an overly cheerful, “Hey, Mama!”

  Lana cringes and shakes her head. “Just Mom.”

  “Heh,” I say. “I mean hi, Mom. Just trying something new.”

  “Well, it would seem you’ve been trying out lots of new things,” Aunt April says. “What the heck was Ricki thinking? I warned you about trusting her too quick—”

  Lana grabs the phone from my hand and says, “Hi, Aunt April! I’m right here.”

  “Hey, Ricki. Didn’t see you there.” My aunt April’s voice goes at least four notes higher. Or maybe it’s more like twenty notes—like I said, I’m naturally tone deaf. She says in
her fake-sweet voice, “Could you put my daughter back on?”

  Lana says, “I just wanted to explain to you what happened.” She glances at me. “You see, Lana forgot she agreed to do a live show today with Erik, and so we were desperate for a fun idea.”

  “She forgot?” Aunt April’s voice is shrill. “Erik’s channel starts with a million livestream viewers and just goes up from there. The whole point of working together was so we could cross-post with him and gain followers!”

  Lana’s mom is clearly in her legendary “scorched earth mode.” I’m just glad I’m not the one who needs to deal with her.

  “Welp, I tried.” Lana shrugs and hands me her phone.

  Looking at the screen, I’m greeted by a furious-looking Aunt April. “Walk away, right now, Lana. Out of Ricki’s earshot. Right. Now!”

  Even over the phone, I’m afraid to disobey, so I stride across the drive-in lot, angling the screen so that Lana can follow me without her mom seeing her.

  But Lana doesn’t follow me. I wave for her to come along, but she just shakes her head and starts walking toward the playground in front. Before I can stop the impulse, I stick my tongue out at her. But then follow her.

  Trailing behind Lana, I turn the phone back to my face and say, “I’m sorry, Mom. Ricki just got a little carried away with a prank.” I wish I had some idea what even happened on camera with Erik. “I’m sure she meant well.”

  “What is with you cozying up to Ricki?” she asks. “She ditched you a year ago. Now you’re acting like you two are best buds.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m the one who ditched Ricki,” I say. “Don’t you remember?” Lana has reached the merry-go-round and runs her fingers along one of the metal rails.

  “Did you get hit in the head, Lana? You kept asking Ricki to do fun things, like go to the mall or play mini golf, and she just said no thanks over and over.”

  “Mini golf?” I’m instantly furious. I love mini golf. “There was never a mini golf invitation. Not one.”

  I shoot a glare at Lana and angrily mouth, “Mini golf?” She shrugs, kicks off her high heels, and climbs onto the merry-go-round’s platform. Pushing off with one bare foot, she moves to sit cross-legged in the center, closes her eyes, and slowly spins around.

  Aunt April growls, “Lana, look at me!” I turn my attention back to the phone screen. “You need to explain what on earth possessed you to make a joke about skipping Digifest tonight.”

  So that’s what Lana used as the prank. Telling Erik she’s skipping the huge, important event that’s supposedly about to change her life more than puberty did.

  I put on a fake smile. “Come on, Mom. Nobody will believe I’m really skipping Digi. And everybody loves Erik’s prank shows,” I reassure her.

  “Lana, you weren’t even on camera!” Aunt April says. “Just a big blur of your face at the end, and you aren’t even wearing lipstick! How are we supposed to score a Norealique sponsorship deal with your face looking like that?”

  I bite both of my lips, and Aunt April bears her teeth onscreen.

  “And what about Erik’s reaction?” she goes on. “Did you have any idea he would say those things? This is a catastrophe!”

  “I’m sure it’s not a catastrophe.” I sigh. “But I wasn’t watching, so I have no idea what he said.”

  Wrong answer. Aunt April’s eyes flash with so much anger I flinch away from the phone. “What was more important than monitoring the live feed?” she demands.

  “I was being useful for once, helping around the drive-in,” I say. “I’m sure the livestream turned out fine.”

  “Erik said he’d quit his show with you in support!” I can practically feel her anger vibrating through the phone.

  “Oh, that’s bad,” I say. “All of his fans would hate me.”

  “He offered to delete his channel right then and there, and Ricki just stood there looking at him all moony-eyed. Why on earth did you send her on camera in your place?” Aunt April says. “Your cousin is not a front-of-camera person.”

  “Hey! That’s not a nice thing to say.”

  “You’re the one who’s always saying it!”

  I fling a look over to where Lana is still sitting with her eyes closed. The merry-go-round has slowed so much it’s barely moving, and I can see her considerable chest rising and dropping as she takes deep, slow breaths. But the protective feeling I had earlier is gone.

  “Listen, Mom,” I say. “I need to go talk to Ricki.”

  “You need to ditch Ricki, delete that video, and post a new one with Erik right now,” Aunt April says. “And for goodness’ sake, Lana, put on some lipstick.”

  “Fine,” I say. “I’ll go put on lipstick. Bye!”

  “Wait!” Aunt April shouts. “You don’t have anything with you! I’m looking at your travel makeup kit right here in your room.”

  “Ugh, I have a lipstick with me.” I’ve moved over to the slow-moving merry-go-round and grab one of the rails, causing it to stop suddenly.

  Lana’s eyes fly open and I hold out the phone to her. “Hey, Ricki. Do you want to say goodbye to your aunt?” I ask loudly. “She’s pretty pissed at both of us.”

  Lana calmly shakes her head no.

  I clutch the metal rail and give it a shove, making the platform spin more and more quickly. When I look back at the phone, Aunt April’s face is practically purple.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I thought my cousin could smooth things over. But I guess she’s just being selfish as usual.”

  Lana drops the zen routine and yells, “My cousin is the one being selfish. She thinks she’s the only one who gets hurt feelings.”

  I leap onto the merry-go-round’s spinning platform. Stomping my way toward Lana in the center, I’m disappointed that my body is too light to have the full impact I intend.

  “Girls! Girls!” Aunt April is raging through the phone. “You need to focus! Lana, you’ve already started losing followers after that stupid stunt. Digifest is all that matters now.”

  I can’t deal with my aunt, and since Lana isn’t willing to step in, I get an idea. Making static noises in the back of my throat, I say, “Oh no. We’re . . . keeet Mom! keeet We’re losing you!”

  “Lana, don’t you dare—” I hang up.

  “I can’t believe you just hung up on my mom!” Lana leaps up and dives onto me, knocking the phone out of my hand and making me sit down hard on the merry-go-round.

  “You weren’t helping me, and she deserved it.” I grab the backs of Lana’s knees with both hands and yank so she falls down beside me. “And what is up with you saying I’m not camera worthy?”

  “What are you talking about?” Lana reaches over and pulls a fistful of my blonde hair, forcing both of us to stand.

  “Ouch!” I yell. “You told your mom I’m not front-of-camera material.” I shove my cousin forward and pin her against one of the rails of the merry-go-round.

  Lana kicks me with her bare foot, twists herself free, and leaps down from the ride. “Mom was always insisting I get some girl guests for the show so I could perform makeovers. Dramatic befores and afters always attract massive clicks.” She grabs one of the rails and begins running in a circle, making the ride spin faster again.

  “So that’s why you used to hound me about doing a makeover?” I say. “So you could turn me into clickbait?”

  “I don’t exactly have a girlfriend stockpile, if you haven’t noticed. Mom was always tormenting me to pester you.” Lana runs faster, kicking up dust with her bare feet. “Finally, I just told her I’d filmed a segment with you, but it was unusable because you were a disaster on camera.”

  I try to stand up, but the centrifugal force makes me stagger across the metal platform. “What about mini golf?” I practically shout. “You never invited me to mini golf!”

  Lana shouts, “Why on earth would anybody want to play mini golf?”

  “You know that I. Love. Mini golf!” I take a running leap off the ride and tackle Lana to the
dusty ground.

  So much for our plan to help each other.

  * * *

  We’re rolling back and forth in the dust when I feel myself being lifted by my shoulders. I rise up and away from Lana, easily removed from our spontaneous wrestling match as I bicycle my feet in the air.

  Erik is holding me by my upper arms and places me neatly on the ground.

  “What the heck is going on, girls?” Jake asks as he helps Lana up.

  “Nice stage dive off the spinner, Lana,” Erik says to me and then frowns at Lana. “Why did you attack her, Ricki?”

  “What are you talking about?” Jake says. “Lana clearly initiated that attack.”

  “Jake’s right,” I say, wiping my hands on my rumpled romper. “I’m always acting terrible. My whole thing is that I’m the worst.”

  “No.” Lana brushes off her black fitted dress. “I’m the big bully who always acts so sensitive. I love making Lana feel guilty. All the time.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I say, “Well, I’m the one who thinks it’s okay to just cut loved ones out of my life for no reason.”

  Her voice rises even louder as she thumps her chest. “And I’m the one who never even asked you why you cut me out.”

  “Well, I never gave a reason,” I say.

  “That doesn’t mean you didn’t have one!” Lana’s face crumples and I realize she’s actually trying not to cry right now. My anger settles.

  I look at the boys who are watching us, speechless.

  Erik sweeps his long blond bangs from his eyes and places one palm on the top of his head. “I want to be supportive,” he says, “but I am not following this at all.”

  Jake says, “Is this some sort of Strangers on a Train situation?”

  “What’re you talking about?” Lana asks. “We’re not strangers.” Jake tilts his head at her.

  “Strangers on a Train,” I prod her. “That movie where two people commit each other’s murders so they won’t be suspects.”

  “Come on, Ricki. It’s Hitchcock,” Jake says. “I’m sure you know it.”

  Lana’s eyes widen. “Oh, those strangers,” she says. “The ones on that train.”

  I say, “You love the way that movie unfolds.”

  “And I’m a huge fan of Hitchcock,” Lana says. “Because loving black-and-white films proves I’m all deep and angsty.”