by Emily Lowry
“It was a close call. I had to leave some people behind. It was very sad.” She brushed a fake tear from her cheek.
“Is your dad mad at me still?” I couldn’t hide the apprehension in my voice.
Last week on our date, we had fallen asleep at the drive-in, her snuggled into me. I don’t know what had possessed me to pull her towards me like that. The intensity of the conversation? A gesture of friendship? A sign of solidarity for screwed up families? Maybe.
Or was the real reason that it was the only way I could stop myself from leaning over and kissing her? If I kissed her, it would screw everything up. Abby wanted everything to be strictly business.
Either way, what I had done created an impossibly intimate moment between us. I held her as we fell asleep, her face pressed into my chest. I spent the week worrying that we crossed a line, but neither of us mentioned it. Maybe she wasn’t thinking about it as much as I was. The way she felt in my arms, it just felt so… right. Natural.
When we woke, it was hours later. Way after her curfew. I brought her home in a panic, which grew when we arrived and I realized the light was still on in the living room. I walked her to the door, but her dad answered before I said goodbye.
“Good night, Chase,” he had said sternly, by way of greeting.
“Sorry, I—”
“Good night.”
On the drive home, I told myself that this was only a fake relationship, so it didn’t really matter what Abby’s dad thought. But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that was true, I failed.
“He’s not thrilled,” Abby said.
“Does he know we’re hanging out again?”
“Yep.”
My stomach knotted. “And?”
“He’s right behind you.”
I jumped, but of course, there was no one behind me.
Abby laughed. “You’re so nervous!”
“I am not.”
“Yes, you are. Oh my — do you think my dad is SCARY?”
“No—”
“You totally do. Chase Jones is scared of my little old dad.”
Denial would’ve only made things worse, so I nodded, laughing.
We followed the paved path through the park, our conversation meandering as much as we did. We talked about football, about her sister, and we each cracked subtle jokes about our relationship.
“I’m excited to see what you write,” I said.
She nudged a fallen leaf off the path with the toe of her boot. “Really? I thought you didn’t read anything about yourself.”
“I’ll make an exception for you,” I said. “As long as you don’t trash me too bad.”
She winced. “You must define ‘too bad.’ I believe the exact sentence I use is ‘Chase Jones is an egotistical jerk who only cares about his stats.’”
I laughed. “Well, that’s completely true.”
“One hundred percent.”
Without thinking, I took her hand in mine. Our fingers intertwined naturally, and we pulled closer together. There wasn’t anyone around. No one to take pictures. No reason for us to hold hands unless…
“Abby,” I said, at the same time as she said “Chase.”
We looked at each other for a second, and then I said “You first,” at the same time as she said “Go ahead.”
She blushed. She looked so cute when she blushed.
“Seriously, you first,” I said.
“Oh, uh, never mind.” Her blush deepened. “What were you going to say?”
What was I going to say? I had no idea.
“Oh… uh, forget it. Nothing.”
We stared at each other for a second, our eyes in an unspoken standoff. What was she thinking? What was she holding back from saying? And why did I care so much?
So much for this being strictly business.
27
Abby
“This is insane! You’ve outdone yourself.” I stared at the costume Izzy laid out on my bed. When I told her what I was planning to dress up as for the annual Costume Crawl on Main Street, she marched over to my house with a trunk full of clothes. It was Halloween afternoon, a few hours before the crawl started, and only a few days before Chase and I hit the official three-week mark, as per Click.
“He’ll love it,” Izzy said. She sprawled on my bed, already dressed up in her Ariana Grande costume, complete with super high ponytail and winged eyeliner. She looked amazing.
“I’m not doing it for him.” I looked up from the vanity, where I was attempting to curl my hair. I was doing it for him.
“No, of course not.” Sarcasm dripped from her words like honey from a spoon. “You’d NEVER want your boyfriend to think you were hot.”
“It’s not like that.”
So why did I decide to go as Hermione Granger? Chase’s self-confessed childhood crush?
Izzy rolled her eyes so hard that I was amazed they stayed in her head. “Yes, your relationship is more evolved than physical appearance. You’ve transcended the superficial realm of physical attractiveness, and now you are connecting on a strictly soul to soul level.”
I pretended to gag. While I maintained a facade of playfulness on the outside, on the inside I was a rollicking storm of turmoil. This was the first time Chase, Izzy, Jordyn, and Dylan would all be hanging out together for an entire night. Like, deliberately. What if I did something wrong? What if they caught on?
“Are we meeting him there?” Izzy asked.
“He’s driving Jordyn and Dylan.”
“The sister and the best friend,” Izzy mused. “A potent combination. Did they ever have a thing? They seem super close.”
“I never asked, but I doubt it. Sounds more like they were the Three Musketeers growing up. Chase is pretty laid back, but I think he’d kill Dylan if he ever made a move on Jordyn.”
I finished curling my hair and began putting on my costume: grey school uniform complete with shirt, striped tie, grey V-neck sweater, and short, pleated skirt (for necessary sex appeal, Izzy claimed), topped off with a black cape. My hair was perfectly curled, and I clutched a “wand” that was actually a drumstick belonging to Izzy’s musician brother, Leo.
“How do I look?” I smiled bashfully. I kinda already knew the costume looked great.
“Stupefying!”
“Then let’s go.”
Main Street was crawling with spooky specters, ghastly ghouls, perfect pumpkins, and terrifying teens. The Monster Mash played and a group of five skeletons breakdanced under a giant inflatable pumpkin that had disco ball lighting. Smiling ghosts hung from the street lamps and it seemed like everyone was wearing an incredible costume. Laughter and shrieks filled the air, and the fall wind carried the scent of melted caramel being poured over fresh apples.
Abby: We’re by Peak’s.
Chase: On our way.
My heart did the same silly flip it always did when Chase’s name appeared on my phone. A minute later, he, Dylan, and Jordyn arrived.
“Abby!” Chase’s jaw practically hit the ground when he saw me.
Another point for Abby.
Dylan was dressed as your standard vampire, complete with fake fangs and a trickle of red make up from the corner of his mouth. Chase made for an unbelievably hot pirate with a patch over one eye, a billowing white shirt, and a red bandana. He’d let a five-o’clock shadow grow on his jaw, just the perfect length to make me wonder about how rough it would feel if we —
Stop it, Abby.
Despite Chase’s hotness, Jordyn was the one who stole the show.
She wore an Evermore football uniform, and she’d cleverly styled her hair to match the way Chase usually wore his. She also had a medal around her neck. When she saw me, she gave me an enormous hug. “Oh Abigail, how I have missed you in my manly way.”
Chase sighed so loudly that I was surprised the entire crowd didn’t look. “For Halloween this year, Jordyn thought it would be oh-so-funny to go as me. I drew the line at going as her in return.”
“Oh, p
lease, you know it’s hilarious,” Jordyn said. “Oh look at me, I’m the quarterback, love me love me love me. Watch as I throw this ball REALLY FAR.”
Izzy and I both laughed. Dylan looked distinctly uncomfortable. I couldn’t blame him — it was eerie how much Jordyn looked like Chase right now.
“Love your costume, you totally give Johnny Depp a run for his money.” I said as I gave Chase — the real Chase — a hug.
“You look amazing, seriously.” Chase wrapped his arms around me, hugging me for a little longer than was necessary. Not that I was complaining.
“Couldn’t have Emma Watson being the focus of my boyfriend’s secret weird, nerdy fantasies anymore,” I joked. But I wasn’t joking.
He slid his hand into mine. “Where to?”
“The same place we go every year!” Izzy shouted. She grabbed Jordyn and Dylan by the wrists and plowed through the crowd.
“Where is she—”
“The fortune teller,” I said. “Every year, we go to the fortune teller and get our fortunes read. Usually we just get them to do us by ourselves, but if you’re a couple…”
“Ah, so that’s why you needed a boyfriend for tonight.”
“Among other reasons,” I teased. “You’re big and strong and can fight off any dark wizards that come after me.”
“You can come away with me on my boat — there are no wizards at sea.”
“So, the swashbuckling pirate will kidnap me and steal me away from all of this?” I gestured wildly around the Costume Crawl.
“Gladly. And it’s not kidnapping if you want to go.”
I laughed and untangled my hand from his, curling my arm in his instead. I felt his bicep through his shirt. If he wanted to, he could lift me up like I weighed nothing at all.
Seriously Abby, stop it.
But I didn’t want to.
The fortune teller was in a wagon up the street, near the Red Rainbow Diner.
Izzy, Dylan, and Jordyn had already received their fortunes. They were all the perfect kind of vague that you couldn’t really refute them even if you wanted to — but you also couldn’t use them to actually tell if they came true. Dylan’s was my favorite — seek what you want, brave the dragon, and find gold near. For the rest of the night, whenever we asked Dylan to do something, we would tell him he needed to brave the dragon.
Chase and I, as a couple, went to get our fortunes told together. We paid ten dollars to Frankenstein’s Monster — a customary rip off price that Chase insisted on paying for — then parted the beaded curtain and stepped inside. The wagon was lit with a black light. There was a crystal ball in the center of the floor with cushions surrounding it. A strange mist rose from beneath it — dry ice, probably. The powerful smell of burning incense made my head feel light.
“You come for guidance,” a strange voice said in a low, purposeful baritone. A woman emerged from the darkness. Her eyes were glassy, her cheeks rosy, and she had a large black mole above the corner of her mouth. Her silver jewelry clinked and clanked as she sat on the seat across from us.
“Yes. That.” I didn’t have Izzy’s confidence. A born improvisor, she probably played along perfectly. I felt silly, like if I pretended that I really believed, the fortune teller would start making fun of me. It was a stupid fear, but I couldn’t shake it.
The fortune teller made a gesture that I’m sure she thought looked spooky. “Place your hands on the crystal, his hand over yours. The young gentleman’s fingers must contact the glass.”
I placed my hand on the crystal ball. Chase put his hand over mine. I blushed and was very thankful for the darkness.
She waved her hands over the ball and wiggled her fingers. Mist rolled from beneath the crystal and the dim lighting flickered. Smoke curled and twisted inside the crystal and colors flashed. It was like watching a tiny storm cloud. The fortune teller’s voice changed, like she was in a trance.
“Your world is patched; damaged and frail.
A dream dreamed, a dream sought, thrown and veiled.
Two ropes wound, a knot to untie.
But as the world knows, most truth loves the sweet lie.”
Her trance disappeared. The storm inside the crystal ball also disappeared.
What the…?
Goosebumps pebbled my arms.
“Let’s go,” Chase said, shifting from foot to foot. It was difficult to tell with the light, but he looked pale suddenly.
When we left the wagon, Izzy grabbed my arm right away. “I will get my girl some candied apples. We’ll be right back.”
“We can go together,” Chase said, his voice slightly shaky.
“If we go together, how can we talk about you?” Izzy winked, then away we went, Izzy pulling me along.
“What, Iz?” I asked, the second we were out of earshot.
“Uh… Abs… You look like you’re about to fall off the planet. Figured I’d steal you away so you can catch your breath. What’d she say that spooked you so bad? That you two would be together forever?”
“Not exactly,” I said.
We found the candied apple booth across the street.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. Remember when she told me a great tragedy would befall me when the wolf howled and the moon bled? I’m still waiting for that bloody moon. It’s been three years.” She shook her fist at the moon theatrically. “Bleed, you stupid moon!”
I smiled. Izzy was the one person who could cheer me up no matter how I felt. I paid for our candied apples. My best friend was one of a kind, it was the least I could do.
Izzy suddenly elbowed me in the side. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
I whirled around to take in a sight that made my heart drop.
Savannah was standing next to Chase. Her red hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her skintight pants were green and shimmery, like the scales of a fish. She wore a loose jacket. She was laughing, and Chase was looking at her with… admiration?
He said something to her, a smile on his lips, and she spun around for him. Her jacket flared as she spun, revealing the seashell bikini top beneath.
“Isn’t she cold?” Izzy practically shouted.
“Apparently not,” I said. I suddenly felt very plain, dull, and childish in my wizarding get-up. As if Chase Jones would want his girlfriend dressing up as a character from a kids’ book on Halloween. What had I been thinking?
Across the road, Savannah finished spinning, and Chase smiled and applauded her costume. He did the gentlemanly thing and kept his eyes on hers, instead of checking out her perfect body. Somehow that almost made it worse.
“She looks good,” I said numbly.
“Not as good as you.”
No, she didn’t look as good as me. She looked better. Far better. Perfect. If Chase Jones would date someone for real, it would be someone like Savannah. Someone who was perfect.
And not someone like me.
28
Chase
“I’ll see you around,” Savannah said, smiling at me before walking away.
“Yeah, maybe,” I replied. It was the first time I’d seen Savannah since she dumped me at the beginning of the year, and I was super happy to see her for one reason, and one reason only: closure. She looked great in her costume, but I felt nothing. No spark. No stir of emotion. No butterflies. I may as well have been talking to Dylan. I was officially over her.
Through our entire conversation, I couldn’t get Abby and how cute she looked in her Hermione costume out of my head.
She had gone through all that trouble to dress up like that for me… right?
Izzy and Abby returned from getting their apples and we spent the rest of the evening exploring all the attractions the Costume Crawl offered. We cheered from the sidelines during the costume parade, ate way too much candy, and Dylan let a tarantula crawl across his face — something the rest of us wanted no part of.
Through it all, Abby was unusually quiet and frequently took off with Izzy to discuss… something. Me, maybe?
Or was that just my ego again? More likely they were discussing Nicholas Applebee, I reasoned.
I tried my best to shake Abby from the funk that had taken hold of her, but no matter how many jokes I told or how ridiculous I acted, I couldn’t get more than a pained smile.
What was going on?
29
Abby
November 4th. Three weeks to the day I started dating Chase. The Friday after the Costume Crawl was a blur of classes and public appearances with Chase. Lunch in the cafeteria, a study session in the library where we laughed so loud we got kicked out, and a peck on the cheek after the Football game. Click went crazy with pictures of us looking happy together.
Which was just what we wanted. We needed to emphasize to the saboteur they needed to bring their ‘A’ game if they wanted to break us up.
Over the weekend, it got harder and harder to focus. A deadline was looming, a deadline I was dreading. Every morning I looked at my calendar and thought about the three-week countdown.
I was tempted to delete Click, but I suspected that the saboteur would contact me either way. And besides, wasn’t that the whole point of my fake relationship? To find out what the saboteur was sending to the girls Chase was actually interested in?
Still, the pit of my stomach was in knots when I thought about it. The last three weeks had been incredible, like a life that belonged to someone else. It worried me that the second the saboteur sent me anything, Chase would figure it all out quickly, and I would end up being a moment in his past.
November 4th was a Monday, but we didn’t have school — something about a development day for teachers. This meant I could wallow in bed in the morning, struggling with my sadness about what was about to unfold. Unfortunately, this meant I would be left to think about Click all day with no distraction. My phone buzzed.
Chase: Anything on Click?
Abby: Nothing yet.
Chase: Keep me posted. Headed to Main Street with Jordyn. Meet up later?
