The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek(9)

Leif nodded accordingly, though he was relatively certain his best friend was being strategic rather than sincere.



* * *



—

LEIF PEDALED IN the dark, his mind racing even faster than his bike. He’d convinced himself that Alicia running into Mr. Whitewood—and him no longer being allowed to be her friend—was all his fault. It didn’t matter that Rex had given the signal too early. He had been the one to suggest the bacon belt. And he had been the one who had tackled Tucker, causing Alicia to turn her head at the worst moment. He kept running through the scene, each time hearing the humiliating moans of the usually composed Wayne Whitewood. What an absolute nightmare.

He’d also correctly guessed that Rex had never intended to keep his promise to his parents. Later that night, Rex had found the camcorder exactly where he knew his dad would hide it: the not-actually-secret secret cabinet in the garage. Rex had then done his Rex thing, telling Leif about the amazing destiny that awaited them if they could just finish the film.

“First, we win the Durham festival,” he’d said, standing on the back deck overlooking the woods behind his house, his arms moving in sweeping motions, like he was materializing the future right in front of them. “Then we get into a big one. Maybe even Sundance. Then we get distribution. Next thing you know, we’re getting coffee with Robert Zemeckis. Coffee with Zemeckis! Are you telling me you want to say no to that?” He was extremely convincing. Coffee with Zemeckis felt so possible. Plus, Leif had learned that once Rex set his sights on something, trying to dissuade him was futile.

That was why he now found himself barreling down the middle of Main Street after midnight, on his way to meet up with Rex and Alicia to film one of the last remaining scenes of PolterDog.

However, of the two restrictions they’d been given by their parents, not hanging out with Alicia was far more concerning to Leif than not finishing their movie. And this wasn’t just because he was worried about the demise of their tight friend group. No. Lately he’d been thinking about Alicia in a very different way.

It had started during their first day of shooting PolterDog. Alicia and Tucker were cavorting in a field for an early scene meant to establish Jessica and Mr. Bones’s easy, playful rapport before Mr. Bones bit it. Alicia wasn’t an animal lover, but she was a great actor. As Leif watched her dote on Tucker for the first time in her life, burying her face in his shaggy neck on the same soccer field where Leif had made minor contributions to at least two rec league victories, a strange half-formed image sprang into his head: grown-up versions of him and Alicia sitting by a fireplace, Tucker sprawled in Alicia’s lap as Leif worked on a crossword puzzle, mug of coffee by his side.

“Are the kids asleep?” Leif had imagined himself asking.

“I think so,” grown-up Alicia had responded.

“But you’re not entirely sure?” grown-up Leif had asked.

“No, no, I’m mostly sure.”

This strange daydream about grown-up Alicia’s uncertainty regarding their unborn children’s consciousness was interrupted by real Rex asking real Leif if he thought that last take had enough face-licking.

“Uh, yeah. That’s plenty,” Leif had said with a false confidence.

He had tried to put these thoughts about Alicia out of his head, but that only seemed to intensify them. His distant-future visions had been replaced with present-day fantasies: the two of them tandem-biking through the woods, feeding each other popcorn at the Twin Plaza, eating a fancy dinner at TGI Friday’s. And making out. A lot. Complete with serious, mouth-exploratory tongue action.

After a week of this, Leif had admitted to himself (and to his diary that he called a journal): I, Leif Nelson, have a crush on Alicia Boykins. Though it felt good to acknowledge, he knew he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Yes, she was smart and funny and fearless and trustworthy and so pretty that he had no idea why he hadn’t fully registered it before, but she was also part of his best-friend triangle, or, as Alicia had coined them, the Triumvirate. He instinctively knew no good could come of it, so he’d made a vow to himself (and to his diary) that he would tell absolutely no one. Not even Rex.

As an unspoken corollary of this vow, Leif had made sure nothing in his behavior gave even the slightest hint of his crush. At times, he’d swung too far in the other direction, harping endlessly on Alicia’s minimal flaws (such as her inability to be punctual), seeming like he actually despised her. But he preferred that to revealing the truth, which would surely alter their trio’s dynamic forever. Besides, the odds seemed good that Alicia didn’t feel the same way, so what was the point of baring his soul for no reason?

Or, at least, that had been Leif’s philosophy.

Until he’d been forbidden to see her.

Before the incident with Whitewood had screwed everything up, he’d convinced himself that he could carry his hidden crush around with him while still enjoying her presence, savoring the moments when she playfully put him in a full nelson, her hair brushing up against the back of his neck. He could live with that. But the thought of only being able to see her in secret as they filmed the last few scenes of PolterDog filled him with an electric desperation, like he had to communicate his feelings now.

Adding to the sense of urgency, Alicia had not only agreed to finish the movie, but insisted they shoot tonight. Maybe she felt the same connection between the two of them after all.