Crap.This is the perfect time to ask Sidney what I’ve been trying to work myself up to for days now. Even though we’re acting like normal people who don’t hate each other anymore, it’s still hard to talk to her in person. We’re doing things together now, but only because of the lipstick notes. When we’re together, we mostly talk about our plans for Nadine.Orhow weird it is that our parents are experiencing a second-coming of their college years. I’m not sure how to break us out of that. Sometimes I’m not sure why I still want to. But I do.
We’re running on a side road that stretches into the woodswhen I clear my throat and come to a stop along the side of the road. It’s a service road of some kind, and it’s unpaved. But it’s also shaded, which makes it perfect for running, despite having to sporadically dodge a tree root cutting through our path. Something rustles in the undergrowth beside me, and Sidney’s eyes snap past me. “I was going to go to the drive-in tomorrow night. They’re showing that new movie, the one with the woman who disappears on the train.”
She nods with a smile and lets out a long breath. “Yeah, that looks really good.” She shakes her head. “That’s cool, we can do it another night.”
“Yeah.” I stub my toe into the ground. “I was just thinking, if you wanted to go with me, we could check it out.” The regret is heavy as the words hang between us. This was such a horrible idea. “Just… it’s kind of pathetic to go to the movies by yourself, you know?”
I can see her entire jaw tense as she swallows. “Um.”
“Don’t feel like you have to. I just wanted to see it, but seriously, no pressure.”Crap, this is awkward.If we were on the main road at least I could wish that a car would accidentally swipe me and make this end. But no, I decided the dead quiet of the woods was the best place to do this.I’m a genius.
Sidney bites her lip and doesn’t smile, but her face looks even now. Not interested, but not disgusted. “Yeah. No. I mean, you’re right. It looks really good.” She bites her lip again. “I’ll go.”
She starts running again without a word, and I follow a step behind, then pull up alongside her. I feel like we’re running in a weird bubble of awkward tension, and I have to pop it before we both suffocate in here. “You know what the perfect movie snack is?” I say, my voice teasing.
“Popcorn?” Her voice drips with sarcasm.
“I mean, popcorn is great, but…”
“Gummy bears.”
“Yuck.”
“What?” She sounds personally offended. “No, gummies are the best, come on.”
“Try again.”
She laughs. “I’m not making you pancakes.”
I let out a huff. “Oh, come on.”
“Nope.” Sidney shakes her head as we make a U-turn at the end of the dirt path. “You’re all strung out on the ’cakes, Marin.” She’s right. I’ve managed to talk her into making them twice this week. The first time by mentioning them to my dad, who asked her, and the second time by agreeing to do two of our dinner dish shifts solo. The only thing Sidney wants to be less than my personal chef is the post-dinner dishwasher.
“Puh-leasssse?” I clap my hands together as if I’m praying to the goddess that is Sidney, Queen of the Pancakes.
“We’re not taking pancakes to a movie.” She’s shaking her head at me like I’m an idiot, but she’s smiling. And the nervous energy is long gone. “I’ll make us chocolate-chip muffins.”
“Yes!” I throw my fist up into the air. “Deal!”
“But you’re buying my ticket,” she says.
“For muffins? Obviously.”
“I need to save my money for mashed potatoes.” She laughs and rolls her eyes—at herself, which is a nice change from them being directed at me. “As one does.”
I laugh. “As one does.”
We don’t talk the rest of the way home, but it’s a different kind of silence from what has become our normal the last few years. Let’s hope spending four hours in a car together doesn’t ruin it.
DAY 22
Asher
The next night, we’re pulling into the Cherry Bowl Drive-In in my parents’ small black SUV. It’s dusk, and the lot is just starting to fill up with cars. The Cherry Bowl is on the edge of town, and it looks like something straight out of a fifties sitcom. The property is circled by wavy sheets of metal that would look like something from a junkyard if they weren’t painted a pretty pale aqua. Inside, there’s nothing more than a big open field that is 60 percent half-dead grass and 40 percent dirt patches. To one side a little painted brick building houses the concessions and bathrooms, and at the far end a giant white screen stretches into the sky.
In the passenger seat Sidney has a plastic container (which I assume/pray is full of muffins) on her lap. She brought two bottles of water that are now sitting in the console between us. We’ve been quiet the entire drive and I’m hoping this wasn’t the worst idea ever, because this is exactly what I was hoping to fix.
I back into the first available space, and Sidney unbuckles her seat belt, but doesn’t get out. She twists in her seat and looks quizzically out the back of the car, where the giant screen is.
