“Clearly.” He studies me again. “I go away for a few weeks, and look at you. New hobbies, new look, new hair . . .”
“At least mine isn’t crying out for a cut.”
“Don’t you start too. I’ve already been hearing about it from my mom!”
“She’s got a point,” I say. “And that fuzz on your chin . . . Did they not have razor blades up in the woods?”
He strokes his patch of wannabe facial hair protectively. “You don’t like it? I think it makes me look older. . . .”
“Sure.” I giggle. “If by older, you mean all of nineteen!”
Garrett clutches his chest. “You wound me so! And there I was, counting the days till we’d be together. . . .”
I stick my tongue out at him. “What were you expecting, a ticker-tape parade?”
“Of course not.” He makes that puppy-dog expression again. “Just a small brass band . . . some of the high-school baton twirlers . . .”
“Dream on.” I settle back in my seat as the lights go down and the theater begins to quiet. “Now, settle down and enjoy some alien destruction.”
I’ve made it.
That’s the thought that dances through my head as various buildings are blown to fiery smithereens on-screen. I’ve made it. The work and tears have all been worthwhile, because sitting here with Garrett feels just like old times. Only better. Because instead of spending the entire show with my hand placed hopefully on the armrest between us, waiting for him to accidentally brush against it, or secretly studying his profile in the glow of the movie screen instead of actually watching the film itself, I can relax and just be me. No wistful wondering, no anguished hopes. Just us, together, friends.
The way it should be.
“It really was a masterpiece.” Garrett laughs as we emerge from the movie theater. It’s cooler now, a chilly breeze slipping through the air, and I pull my cardigan more tightly around myself as we pause outside the lobby. “Such depth, and that dialogue . . .”
“You loved it!” I nudge him. “You didn’t look away once.”
Garrett coughs. “Only because I was riveted by how awful it was.”
“Sure, that’s your story.” I laugh. “But I bet you’ll be first in line when the sequel comes out!”
“Never,” he declares. “And I still can’t believe you made me watch that. Your standards are slipping in your old age.”
“Says the senior.” I grin. “If I’m old, then you’re just about stumbling towards the grave.”
We start walking, but I quickly stop, struck again by the strange feeling that somebody’s watching me. I spin around. Nothing.
“Sadie?” Garrett waits just ahead, illuminated by a streetlight.
“Coming!” I start walking, but I take only a few steps before turning again. This time, I see them: Kayla, Aiko, and LuAnn, skulking behind a group of teenage boys, trying to stay out of sight. Unfortunately for them, their outfits don’t exactly spell inconspicuous. LuAnn is dolled up in a trench coat and sunglasses, while Aiko and Kayla have on these all-black quasi–cat burglar ensembles.
I march over.
“Um, hi, Sadie!” Kayla exclaims brightly, lowering the flyer she’s been pretending to read. “What a coincidence! We were just catching a movie, and —”
“Save it!” I cut her off. “I can’t believe this. You’re actually following me!”
“Not following,” Aiko objects, twisting a pigtail. She’s wearing black spandex leggings under clompy black boots, with a cropped black satin bomber jacket. Real casual for a night out at the movies. “More, keeping a friendly eye on things.”
“In case you need rescuing,” LuAnn agrees, her eyes wide with concern.
“Like, a backup squad!” Kayla grins.
I look at them, a mismatched set of PI’s-slash-spy-movie-wannabes, and can’t help but burst out laughing. My friends are kind of insane.
“Where did you even get those outfits?” I ask, gasping for air.
“You like? I styled everyone myself.” LuAnn does a little twirl. “Undercover chic, I call it.”
“You look . . . very film noir.” I grin. “But isn’t the point of undercover to, you know, blend in to the crowd?”
LuAnn rolls her eyes. “But the crowds here are so boring!” She looks past my shoulder and hisses, “He’s coming!”
Garrett is indeed heading in our direction, looking curious. I don’t blame him. “Act normal, please,” I beg.
“Normal? Us? No problem!” Kayla adjusts her fake plastic spectacles as Garrett reaches us.
“Hey.” I gulp, suddenly nervous. It feels like two halves of my life are suddenly colliding here.
Garrett looks at the group, clearly waiting for an introduction.
“Oh, right!” My voice comes out strangely high-pitched. “This is LuAnn, and Aiko. You saw them at the café yesterday. And you know Kayla already.”
“Hey.” Garrett nods to them, his expression warm and friendly. “I’m Garrett.”
“Garrett,” LuAnn repeats darkly, as if he just introduced himself as Satan. I shoot her a desperate look.
“Hey,” Aiko adds in a grudging tone.
Garrett looks less confident at the cool welcome. “Great to meet you all. Uh, Sadie’s been telling me so much about the café, I feel like I know you all already.”
“Really?” LuAnn raises her eyebrows. “And we haven’t heard a single thing about you. How do you guys know each other?”
I cough. Garrett looks back and forth between us, still thrown. “We’ve been friends a while now. Best friends,” he says, and smiles at me. I look away.
“Oh. Weird!” LuAnn replies. “But I guess Sadie is friends with so many guys, it’s hard for us to keep track.”
“She is?” I can feel Garrett’s questioning gaze.
“Oh, sure, they’re always in the café,” LuAnn continues merrily. “Sam and Pete were mooning over her so much, we had to bar them. Too distracting for the customers.”
“Why don’t we go get something to eat?” I exclaim brightly, before LuAnn tells Garrett I have boys throwing themselves at my feet twenty-four hours a day. “Herrell’s is right up the block.”
“Sure, I could go for ice cream,” Garrett agrees. Immediately, the girls pile on.