The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek(10)

“Really?” Rex and Leif had said simultaneously, their heads pressed together to the earpiece of the phone at Rex’s house earlier that evening, while both the McClendons and the Boykinses attended a back-to-school PTA meeting at Bleak Creek High.

“Yeah, really,” Alicia had said. “We’ve got three weeks. Just a few more scenes and then the edit. We’re cutting it close either way.”

“We don’t want to get you in even more trouble,” Leif said.

“You don’t get me in trouble, Leif,” Alicia responded, grinning through the phone. “I get myself in trouble. And anyway, my parents and I had a talk, and they actually seem pretty okay about what happened. They know I didn’t run into Mr. Whitewood on purpose. Plus, the idea of having some kind of secret friendship sounds pretty sweet. Like we’re a secret society or something.”

Leif couldn’t help but smile. “Okay,” he said.

“Yeah,” Rex agreed. “Let’s finish this thing. Meet you at your place at quarter past midnight.”

“Word,” Alicia said. “See ya.”

In just a few short hours, Leif might be embarking on a clandestine romance with the girl of his dreams. A real Romeo and Juliet situation. He tried to convince himself that he didn’t care about the outcome, though of course he was hoping Alicia might want to be his girlfriend and that Rex would be supportive. Crazier things had happened.



* * *



—

LEIF BROUGHT HIS bike to a stop a couple houses down from Alicia’s (the appointed meeting spot with Rex, a dark patch in between streetlights) and waited. As he scanned the house in front of him—which belonged to a new family that had recently moved to town from Nebraska, a place that seemed so foreign as to be exotic—Leif flinched at the sight of a pair of eyes staring at him from only a few feet away. Is that Rex waiting to do one of his classic jump scares? he thought. Or are these Nebraskans actually insomniacs who walk the streets at night? But as his eyes adjusted, he saw it: a raccoon perched atop the Nebraskans’ trash can. Leif let out a loud hiss, and the raccoon, seeming to understand it as the universal sound for “Get the hell out of here,” darted away into the night.

Leif pressed the light on his calculator watch: 12:09. He was glad to be early—more time to rev himself up to make this happen. He figured the most appropriate moment would be after they’d picked Alicia up and made it to the woods. The woods, after all, were very romantic. While Rex scoped out the shots, Leif would open his heart to Alicia.

“Hey, dude,” Rex said, gliding up on his foot-powered scooter.

“You’re still riding that thing?” Leif asked. It was too dark to make out all the features of Rex’s face, which, after his encounter with the raccoon, freaked him out a little.

“Uh, yeah,” Rex said, “and I’m gonna be riding it for a while. They’re predicting that by 1998, bikes will be practically extinct. No offense.”

“Who is they? And objects can’t go extinct.”

“You know what I mean. Obsolete.”

“Isn’t a bike actually faster and more efficient than a scooter?”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Rex said, caressing the scooter’s handlebars. “This puppy has serious speed. You’re just not using it right.”

“I’ve never ridden a scooter.”

“Exactly. You just proved my point. Now let’s go get Alicia.”

Leif was not a fan of Rex’s tendency to declare things cool no matter what counterevidence was presented, or the way he took it upon himself to prematurely end arguments to preserve the illusion that he was right. But it didn’t matter, because Rex had already sped ahead with a series of rapid Flintstones-style pushes off the pavement. Leif hopped on his bike and, even with the late start, easily caught up to him.

As Rex placed his scooter on the grass near the curb, Leif put down his kickstand, acutely aware of the pounding in his chest. Now that he was standing with Rex at the foot of Alicia’s lawn, he was having second thoughts.

“Call her,” Rex said, nudging Leif with his shoulder.

“Oh, right.” Leif put one loose fist over his mouth and delivered one of his patented turkey mating calls, a sort of seductive gobble that he’d mastered a few years earlier at Baptist boys’ camp.

They focused on Alicia’s first-floor bedroom window, her lamp already on, illuminating the opposite wall, which featured her collection of posters showcasing her excellent taste in pop culture, including one of Larry and Balki from the TV show Perfect Strangers. Leif had always wondered if Alicia saw Rex and him as Larry and Balki, and in this moment, as he prepared to profess his deepest feelings for her, he realized that he was definitely Balki. He didn’t know whether that was good or bad. Maybe his proclamation could wait.

Just then, the window opened and Alicia’s dark curls emerged, blocking both Larry and Balki from view. She flashed a sly grin when she saw the dark outlines of her best friends. Leif grinned back, his second thoughts evaporating. He felt a serenity wash over him. He didn’t need to work on his precise wording—he would let the rhythm of the moment guide him. It was all so much simpler than he’d—

Suddenly, Alicia screamed, as two hands grabbed her shoulders and attempted to yank her back inside.