Worse Than Enemies

“A little,” I admit. “I mean, not like I don’t want to hang out with you.”

“I get it. Hayes has a funny way of trying to make up after a fight.”

“Does that mean you two are going to be okay after this?”

“That’s up to him, isn’t it?” He has a point. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to try to, you know, force you to do stuff. Not that you’re not hot or anything.”

The only hot thing about me right now is my cheeks, which are burning. “Thanks?”

He bursts out laughing, and I can’t help but join him. “You know what I mean. If things were different, maybe this would be a more romantic date.”

“I get it.” And I’m so glad. All that anxiety I’ve wrestled with ever since Hayes announced I had a date dissolves. We can hang out and be friends. “I hope you’re not breaking more important plans for this.”

“I’ve been trying to get to know you for weeks. It’s cool.”

On the way to the drive-in, I gain a little more insight into what makes him who he is.

“I can’t wait to graduate and get the hell out of here,” Franky says.

“Where are you going to go?”

“I already applied to, like, eight schools on the other side of the country. I’m just killing time until then. My dad can’t stop going through wives who only want his money. I’m tired of having to watch them take what’s supposed to be mine when the time comes.” He winces a little, turning my way. “Does that sound selfish?”

“I’m sure that would piss me off, too.”

“You’re too nice for us. You’re a good person.”

“You’re a good person, too.” He only grunts like he doesn’t believe me. For the first time, it occurs to me he might hide things the way Hayes does. Is everybody around me hurting all the time? Maybe everybody is in their own way, and all we can do is try to get through it.

Either way, it’s nice to talk like two normal people without having to worry about what Hayes will think about it.

The drive-in is newer and nicer than I expected.

“I can’t believe so many people came out,” I say.

“Everybody wants to prove how old-school they are,” Franky says with a shrug before turning his radio to the signal the movie’s audio is being broadcast on.

Right now, they’re only showing the trailers that went with the original Friday the 13th when it first came out, and that’s kind of neat. I wonder if it makes me a total nerd that I’m actually into this—but who am I kidding, I already knew I was kind of a nerd.

“Would it be totally gross of me to say I could really go for some popcorn?” I ask.

“Are you kidding? I planned on asking if you wanted some. I can’t smell it without wanting it.” Franky makes a move to open the door, but I insist on picking this up. If it’s not a real date, he doesn’t have to pay for everything.

It’s drizzling a little, so I make a run for the concession stand and duck under the awning that stretches along the front. A part of me wants to text Hayes and tell him we’re having a great time, because I know it will drive him crazy, but I don’t want him showing up. Probably a better idea to tell him about it once I get home, if he’s even there.

A few people are ahead of me, but it’s not like I’ve never seen the movie before, so it doesn’t really matter. It surprises me to see so many families together in their cars. Is this the kind of thing families do together? I always used to wonder. Mom rarely took us to the movies, if ever.

“You look familiar.”

I didn’t notice the man standing behind me until hearing his voice close to my ear. “Excuse me?” I mutter, scooting forward a little so he’s not so close. But he follows me, pressing in at my back.

“I know I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

“You probably haven’t.” I try to turn around to look at him, but he grabs my arm to hold me still. “Get off me!”

The girl in front of me turns around, confused. I’m about to ask her for help when the guy speaks again.

“Not since that night at the concert. You interrupted a special moment for me.”

Ice-cold fear replaces the adrenaline pumping through my veins. “Oh...”

The girl rolls her eyes and turns around again, going back to whatever she was doing on her phone.

He chuckles, stirring the hair at the nape of my neck. “That’s what I thought.”

I twist my head around to get a look at him, and what I find isn’t exactly surprising—but it is chilling. He looks just enough like the guy I first saw at Franky’s party to confirm this is Logan, but his face looks a little rearranged. There’s still swelling, stitches above both eyes and down his left cheekbone. I guess his jaw wasn’t wired shut like they said, though his voice is thick and slurred. He’s wearing sunglasses even on this cloudy day, but when he turns his head to the side like he’s looking to see if anyone is watching, I see the whites of his eyes are dark red.