Famous in a Small Town(20)

“This all sounds like a lot of work,” Brit said.

“Everything worth having is worth working for,” I replied, and she groaned.

“Oh God, what’s next? ‘Good hustle’? ‘Let’s light a fire under them’? You sound just like my dad.”

“Who do you think I got it from?”

“I mean, definitely not your own dad. He’s too chill to be spewing bullshit like that.”

We sat around the garage after that, after everyone added Megan Pleasant on every social network we could think of, and I read them a new email I had drafted as an example for what we’re going for in our messages to Megan.

Finally Brit declared, “Enough already. Let’s do something.”

I frowned. “This is something.”

“Something fun. No one has to work for once. Let’s go somewhere.”

“How about a movie?” August suggested. He had been pretty quiet throughout the brainstorming session. “Is there a movie theater around here?”

“The Movie Dome, in Fall Creek,” Dash said.

“Six majestic screens,” Terrance said. “Bring your own candy, because the shit in the case is as old as we are. No one’s paying five dollars for some ancient-ass Twizzlers Twerpz.”

“Do they still make those?” August said.

“They definitely do not,” Terrance replied.

August smiled. “How far is it?”

“Like half an hour,” Flora replied.

He looked surprised, just briefly, but Brit caught it.

“What, were you lousy with movie theaters back home? Was there one on every corner?”

“Yes,” he said solemnly. “There were ten movie theaters per square block.”

“But seriously, does living here totally wig you out?” Brit asked. “Does everything seem so far away?”

“I don’t live here,” he replied. “Just visiting.”

Brit opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Flora interrupted—gently—with movie options.

We found one that we all agreed on, and only realized there was a problem when we reached the Cutlass—it only seated five.

“Just squish in,” August said. “We can fit four in the back.”

Brit shook her head. “Not happening. Who stays?”

“I can,” Flora said.

“I’ll stay too,” Terrance volunteered.

Flora frowned. “Well, then I’ll go if you’re not gonna.”

“But who will keep me company?”

Flora looked at Brit, who looked at me.

I knew I couldn’t borrow my dad’s car at the moment. “I’ll stay,” I said. “You guys go.”

“No, because you’ll just update your sad PowerPoint and compose tweets to Megan Pleasant, and that thought is too depressing for me to handle on a fine afternoon like this. Flora and Terrance stay. This is a seniors-only movie excursion.”

We weren’t seniors yet, technically, according to The College Collective. This summer was labeled JUNIOR YEAR, JUNE–AUGUST, after all. We were in the eve of senior year.

I didn’t point that out, though, and Flora just sighed. “Fine.”

So we drove to Fall Creek and went to the Movie Dome.

We got seats toward the middle of the auditorium. Brit held back and let August go into the row first, so the seating order went August, me, Brit, and then Dash. When I looked over at Brit, she winked at me just like Heather had before we went to the Yum Yum Shoppe.

“Look at this,” she said, throwing herself down into her seat. “Just like a double date.” Then she popped right back up. “Who wants popcorn?”

We had already stopped at a gas station and loaded up on candy, but I wouldn’t say no to movie theater popcorn. “Get the refill one and we can all share it.”

“Excellent,” Brit said. “I will need money for popcorn.”

I rolled my eyes and fished out some money. Brit grabbed it and ushered Dash out of his seat. “We’ll be back!” she said, reaching up to throw her arm around Dash’s shoulders once they got to the aisle. Dash snaked his arm around her waist, and they matched their steps as they made their way back down the stairs toward the exit, heads bent toward each other in conversation.

August watched them go and then glanced at me.

“Are they dating?” he said.

“Dash and Brit? God no. He’s—” I stopped myself. I wasn’t exactly sure of the logistics of it—being out—but I knew it meant he told people, instead of people telling others on his behalf. “He’s seeing somebody,” I finished. “And Brit …” Is into herself? Into everyone? Into no one? I honestly couldn’t tell sometimes. She had never had a long-term anything before, but occasionally she would disappear with people at parties and come back with color high in her cheeks, her hair mussed. She would have hickeys sometimes and not bother to hide them, but she never really went on date dates, or if she did, she never told me about them.

“Brit does her own thing,” I finished.

It was quiet for a moment, and I thought about last night, the easy conversation outside the Yum Yum Shoppe.

“Would it be so bad, though?” I said. “If this were a double date?”