The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek(57)

“Nah. L.A. sucks, man. They wouldn’t know good filmmaking if it bit ’em in the ass.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah. This one executive said The Boy Who Became a Man was just a rip-off of Big, which is so insulting I don’t even know where to begin.”

Janine couldn’t help but smile again, mainly because she’d thought the same thing more than once as they’d worked on it—that Dennis had made an artsy version of Big except without the funny parts.

“What a dick, right?” Dennis said. The rhythms of their relationship came back to her, and she knew what her line was supposed to be: Yeah, such an asshole. What he said isn’t true at all.

“Well, it’s just one executive, isn’t it?” she said instead.

“Yeah, I guess. But then everyone else stopped returning my calls too. And now I have writer’s block. I’m telling you, those people suck. NYC is where it’s at. We need to start Dennine. For real this time.”

Janine had imagined this scenario so many times she’d lost count, and now it was actually happening. Dennis had tracked her down all the way in Bleak Creek. For a guy who hated doing any kind of tedious legwork, anything he didn’t deem “creatively stimulating,” it wasn’t nothing.

“And,” Dennis continued, “I, you know…I’m sorry about the way I acted. I was an idiot. You’re, like, the best thing that ever happened to me, and I don’t know why I couldn’t recognize that.”

Janine knew what was happening here—Dennis’s charms were once again dismantling her defenses—but she was on the verge of joyful hyperventilation anyway. “Thank you for that,” she said, wishing he was in the room so she could kiss him. She annoyed herself with how easily she was falling for him again. But he really seemed sorry.

“When are you coming back?” Dennis asked. “I need you, babe.”

Maybe, Janine thought, this is a nudge from the universe after all. She’d tried to go it alone, and it hadn’t worked out. She had barely any usable footage, and rather than making the world a better place with her art, she’d succeeded only in becoming a magnet for death stares and Leave Bitch warnings, in making life worse for her Bleak Creek family members.

And Dennis needed her.

“Tomorrow,” Janine said. “I come back tomorrow.”

She’d booked the flight as soon as she got off the phone, and for the first time in days, she had breathed easy. It felt right.

“Gosh,” GamGam said now, as they passed the IT ONLY GETS BLEAKER WHEN YOU LEAVE BLEAK CREEK! sign. “I sure am gonna miss having you around, Neenie.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, GamGam,” Janine said. She meant it. There wasn’t much she would miss about that screwed-up town, but she’d never felt this close to her grandmother, and it was a bummer to think that the next time they spoke, they’d be hundreds of miles apart.

Naturally, Boyz II Men’s “End of the Road” came on the radio right at that moment.

A little on the nose, universe, Janine thought as she teared up, her gaze flitting to the side-view mirror out of habit, where this time she saw genuine cause for concern. Several cars back, a vehicle was moving way faster than the speed limit, wildly weaving in and out of the oncoming traffic lane as it passed a car at a time.

Janine shuddered. It was possible it was just a reckless driver who had nothing to do with her. After all, she’d already left Bleak Creek, just like she’d been told.

But once the red car was almost directly behind GamGam’s Grand Marquis—only one vehicle remaining as a buffer between them—Janine felt confident that whoever was driving it intended to do her harm. To make sure she wouldn’t blab to the world about the Whitewood School. The way Uncle Jim had tried to.

“You might have to drive a little faster, GamGam,” Janine said, her voice shaky.

“Didn’t you say your flight’s at 2:30?” GamGam asked. “We got plenty of time, darlin’.”

“No.” Janine tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. “I think…I think there’s a car following us.”

“Huh?” GamGam looked into the rearview. “Oh my word! It might be that crazy Wendell Brown. Sometimes he steals a car and goes on a joyride.”

“I don’t think so,” Janine said. After learning the truth about Uncle Jim, Janine had quickly determined that this theory had never been shared with GamGam. She’d considered telling her grandmother herself but ultimately thought it wasn’t her place. Now, of course, she wished she had, as it would have made their current predicament much easier to explain. “People weren’t happy about my movie, GamGam.”

“Well, I thought that movie Basic Instincts was a piece of trash, but that don’t mean I’m about to go drivin’ down the highway after Mikey Douglas!”

“Can you just…Can you just speed up a little? Try and lose ’em?”

“For you, Neenie? Anything.” GamGam pressed down on the gas, and Janine’s head was thrust back into her headrest.

GamGam had never been a good driver, and Janine immediately felt like she’d put her life into more danger by asking her to speed, but even with GamGam’s erratic swerving, Janine was relieved to see the car fading into the distance and then turning off the road onto a side street.