Page 18 of I Think He Knows
Well, she’s definitely organized.
“Um, well thanks. That’s really nice of you.”
“Not at all.” Freya’s expression is a genuine one that softens her whole face. “I just wish I had someone who looked like that when they talked about me. Lana Mae’s a lucky woman.”
I nod in response and then motion to the waitress for the the bill. There isn’t anything I could possibly say right now because Lana is not my girlfriend, and never will be.
When it comes to Lana Mae, I’m Icarus, and she’s the sun.
Which is why I can never get as close as I want to.
7
CARTER
Lana Mae:Rate my plate: Bonus points for creativity, no?
Through my labored breaths, I can’t help but smile at my phone, where a picture of a slightly burnt pizza decorated with a lopsided pepperoni happy-face pops up to accompany the text. Gordon Ramsay would have a field day with this one, but I give it a solid ten out of ten for nostalgia reasons, alone.
Back when we first started hanging out, Friday night was pizza night. I’d come over to her mom’s place after classes and work, boxes in hand, and more often than not, we ate while laying on Lana’s living room floor. We’d watch reruns of inappropriate 90s’ teenmovies on AMC, each of us folding dripping cheesy slices into our mouths like we hadn’t eaten in weeks. She was going through a hard time at school, feeling ostracized by her friends as she navigated pregnancy while everyone else was worried about prom and college applications.
Meanwhile, I was anchorless, a buoy drifting at sea with no idea what I wanted in life, but just desperate tobe somebody. I’d grown up believing I’d never amount to anything, and I was desperate for that not to be the case.
I wasn’t close with my family, and due to my part-time jobs eating up most of my time outside of classes, I hadn’t made a ton of friends at college. Lana Mae’s mom welcomed me with open arms, and I grew to absolutely adore her over the one short year that I had the pleasure of knowing her.
These days, Lana Mae is more into those cupcake shows on the Food Network than viewings ofAmerican Pie, but I’d love to be eating happy-face pizza with my best friend and her daughter in front of the TV right now. Even if they made me watch that ridiculous British baking show while doing so.
Instead, I’m running my usual route in Runyon Canyon Park for the third time in a row this evening. And the only carbs I will be indulging in tonight are the bananas in my protein shake after my run.
Carter:That is a face straight out of my nightmares. The next serial killer movie will have the villain wear that on his face.
I keep my stride as I text, moving my gaze between the trail ahead and my phone screen. All my extra time this week has been spent working out—weights, resistance, and as I’m currently doing, cardio. This role inIf Onlyapparently has a very important shirtless scene, and if I can’t control perfecting my image, at least I can control perfecting my body. “Train for the role youwant. Train like you already have it,” says my extremely expensive but extremely motivational personal trainer.
It’s not like I can complain. Getting to go trail running and take in the LA scenery twice a day is definitely a highlight of my job.
My phone pings again.
Lana Mae:A bit sexist to assume it’s ahim.
Carter:Merely a statistical probability. But I agree, it was an assumption for which I would like to apologize to female serial killers everywhere.
Carter:Either way, 6/10 at best.
Lana Mae:That’s totally uncalled for! I’m sending Pizza Face to your apartment tonight to haunt you.
I’m reaching the top of Hero Trail now, and I slow my pace. When I come to a full stop, I put my hands on my knees, catching my breath as I look out towards the city. On a really clear day, you can see all the way to the Pacific, but it’s hazy over the canyon today. The late afternoon sun shines through a pale, diluted blue sky—a sure sign that summer is on its way.
I step around a group of tourists taking pictures, have a sip of water, then text Lan back again.
Carter:Carter Callahan stars inA Marinara Massacre.
Lana Mae:No way would you get the starring role. You’d be the one who gets killed off first.
Carter:You mean the blonde teenage girl who runs into the woods alone? That’s my dream role.
Carter:It’s also the role I’ve never managed to get, no matter how many auditions I go to. No idea why.
Lana Mae:Your boobs are probably too small.