“Yeah, I don’t know,” Noah mumbled, looking at the other guys. “We’re pretty hungry. Listen, I’ll text you,” he said, and the three of them wandered off.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Zara said. “I was just trying to help you forget about—”
“That Noah guy was scorching,” Kett said, looking after him, and sighed. “This better be some movie.”
“It is,” Jack said at my elbow. “Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“Going to the movies,” he said. “What else?” He leaned toward me. “Traitor,” he said in my ear. “You promised you’d go to Christmas Caper with me.”
“You weren’t here,” I said coldly.
“Yeah, about that,” he said. “Sorry. Something came up. I—”
“Is it really a good movie?” Kett asked, sidling over to him. “Lindsay didn’t tell us what it was about. All she said was that there was a scoundrel in it.”
“Scoundrel,” Jack said, raising an eyebrow at me. “I like the sound of that.”
“How do you like the sound of ‘loser’?” I said. “Or ‘slimewad’?”
He ignored me. “Actually,” he said to Kett, “he’s an undercover agent working on a case, and it’s classified, so he can’t tell the heroine about it or why he had to leave town—”
“Nice try,” I said, and to Kett, “What it’s really about is this creep who tells the heroine a bunch of lies, does something staggeringly stupid, and then goes off without a word—”
“Why don’t you come with us, Jack?” Kett interrupted, looking up at him hungrily. “I’m Kett, by the way. I’m friends with Lindsay, but she didn’t tell me you were so—”
Zara pushed between them. “Kett and I actually wanted to go play drone tag with these Pi Kappas, Jack,” she said. “We—”
“What Pi Kappas?” Kett demanded.
Zara ignored her. “We were just going to the movie with Lindsay to keep her company, but now that you’re here, you could take her.”
“I’d love to,” Jack said, frowning, “but unfortunately I can’t.”
“He has to put a flock of geese a-laying in the theater where The Twelve Days of Christmas is showing,” I said. “Or is it partridges this time, Jack?”
“Swans a-swimming,” he said, grinning. “I’ve got eight of them in my pocket.”
“Really?” Kett said, as if it was actually possible to get anything through security, let alone a flock of swans.
“That would be so depraved!” she purred. “What you did to the dean’s office was so amazing! You definitely should come with us to Christmas Caper!”
“I have no intention of going anywhere with Jack,” I said.
“Then I will.” Kett tucked her arm cozily in his. “The two of us can go see it.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sure that would be fun,” Jack said, disentangling himself from her like she was barbed wire, “but it’s not gonna happen. We can’t get in. It’s sold-out.”
“It is not,” I said, pointing up at the schedule board. “Look.”
“Not right now maybe, but trust me, it will be by the time you get to the front of the line.”
“You’re kidding,” Zara said. “After we’ve stood in line all this time?”
“And told Noah we couldn’t go to the Cantina with him,” Kett added.
“It’s not going to be sold-out,” I said confidently.
“Wrong,” Jack said, pointing at the board, where NO TICKETS AVAILABLE had begun flashing next to Christmas Caper.
“An engrossing mystery …”
—flickers.com
“Oh, no,” Zara said. “What do we do now?”
“We could go see A Star-Crossed Season,” Kett said to Jack. “It’s supposed to be really good. Or The Diary.”
“We’re not going to either one,” I said. “Just because the 12:10 of Christmas Caper’s sold-out doesn’t mean the other showings are. We can still get tickets to the 2:20.”
“And wait around for another two hours?” Kett wailed.
“Why don’t we get lunch first and then get the tickets?” Zara said. “We could go to Chocolat—”
“No,” I said. “This is not going to turn into another Monsoon Gate. We are staying right here till we get our tickets.”
“How about you stay in line, Lindsay, and we go and bring you back something?” Kett suggested.
“No,” I said. “You promised you’d go with me.”
“Yeah, and you promised you’d go with me, Lindsay,” Jack said.
“You stood me up.”
“I did not,” he said. “I’m here, aren’t I? And anyway, Kevin Kline stood up Meg Ryan in French Kiss. Michael Douglas stood up Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone. Indiana Jones left Marion tied up in the bad guys’ tent. Admit it, that’s what scoundrels do.”
“Yes, well, but they don’t throw their entire future away on some stupid prank.”
“You mean the geese? That wasn’t a prank.”
“Oh, really? Then what was it?”
“I can see you two have a lot of stuff to discuss,” Zara said. “We don’t want to get in the way. We’ll catch up with you later. Text me.” And before I could protest, she and Kett had vanished into the crowd.
I turned to Jack. “I’m still not going with you to see it.”
“True,” he said, looking over at the ticket counter. “You’re not going to get in to the 2:20 either.”
“I suppose now you’re going to tell me it’ll be sold-out, too?”
“No, they usually don’t use that one twice,” he said. “This time it’ll be something more subtle. Free tickets to a Special Christmas Showing of The Shop Around the Corner or a personal appearance by the new Hulk. Or, since you like scoundrels, of the new Han Solo.” He grinned. “Or me.”
“I do not like scoundrels,” I said. “Not anymore. And what do you mean, ‘they don’t use that one twice’?”
He shook his head disapprovingly. “That’s not your line. You’re supposed to say, ‘I happen to like nice men,’ and then I say, ‘I’m a nice man.’ ” He leaned toward me. “And then you say—”
“This is not The Empire Strikes Back,” I snapped, backing away from him. “And you are not Han Solo.”
“True,” he said. “I’m more like Peter O’Toole in How to Steal a Million. Or Douglas Fairbanks in The Mask of Zorro.”
“Or Bradley Cooper in The World’s Biggest Liar,” I said. “Why did you say I’m not going to get in to the 2:20 either? Have you done something to the theater?”
“Nope, not a thing. I swear.” He held up his right hand.
“Yes, well, your word isn’t exactly trustworthy, is it?”
“Actually, it is. It’s just that … Never mind. I promise you I didn’t have anything to do with the 12:10 being sold-out.”
“Then why were you so sure it was going to be?”
“Long story. Which I can’t tell you here,” he said, looking around. “What say we go somewhere quiet and I’ll explain everything?”
“Including where you’ve been for the past eight months? And what possessed you to put those geese in the dean’s office?”
“No,” he said. “Sorry, I can’t until—”
“Until what? Until you’ve done the same thing here?” I lowered my voice. “Seriously, Jack, you could get in a lot of trouble. The Dromes have really heavy security—”
“I knew it,” he said delightedly. “You’re still crazy about me. ‘So what say we go discuss this over a nice cozy lunch,’ as Peter said to Audrey in How to Steal a Million. There’s a little place over on Pixar Boulevard called Gusteau’s—”