She laughs. “Well, that’s a challenge. What haven’t you done?”
Then she logs off, and the game kicks me back to the loading screen. What haven’t I done? The list is longer than she thinks. I haven’t done most things normal teens have at my age. I’m seventeen, but I’ve never flown coach. I’ve never driven an economy car. I’ve never worn sneakers that cost less than a Kobe steak. I’ve never eaten instant ramen. I’ve never played baseball with my stepdad.
I’ve never fallen in love.
But I remember the girl on the balcony at ExcelsiCon this past August, and the way she spun the rings on her fingers and laughed at my terrible jokes. I wonder how long I could’ve gotten away with the lie that I was no one, before the spell had broken.
STARFIELD IS PLAYING AT THE BIG MO DRIVE-IN—back-to-back with the latest Star Wars—and I can’t imagine a better way to say goodbye to the last vestiges of summer. The evening is cool and the skies are wide and dark and the cherry soda tastes especially good with the fast-food fries from the concession stand.
Everything tastes better when you’re watching your favorite movie.
Quinn leans over and dips a fry into a cup of ketchup. “I can’t believe you’re working at that weird castle-house. What if it’s haunted?”
“Nah,” I reply as I take another swig of cherry cola. “It isn’t old enough to be haunted.”
“But what if someone got murdered in the house?” Annie asks. “It’s so creepy.”
“It did smell a little like old blood,” I agree, earning a slap from Quinn. “Ow! Okay, okay—it’s just a normal house. It was kinda clean on the inside. Pretty. Like it’s been freshly renovated. And the library…” I sit back in the bed of Quinn’s truck and sigh. On the large screen at the front of the drive-in theater, Princess Amara kisses Carmindor goodbye for the last time.
In the next car over, a guy sniffles and wipes his eyes.
I really can’t blame him; the scene is beautiful. The way Princess Amara kisses Carmindor, soft and bittersweet, and then traps him on the bridge so he can’t stop her. How she boards the escape shuttle with the photon missiles. How she arcs the ship up into the Black Nebula, with swirls of blues and greens and purples curling around the wings of the ship like ribbons. It reminds me of the colors of the library, how the bindings unfurled across the room in muted, faded galactic shades.
“The library was beautiful,” I whisper.
Annie tsks playfully. “Don’t go falling in love with a library, now. Especially one you can’t own.”
“Can’t I fall in love just a little? At least books won’t break my heart.”
“Then clearly you haven’t read the books I have,” Quinn mutters, scooping up the last few fries.
On the screen, Amara’s starship explodes and bathes the entire drive-in in a blanket of white. The last scene of the movie is solemn and quiet. It’s the funeral of Princess Amara, a menagerie of all the different people she and Carmindor met along their adventure. There are a few nods to the TV series—some Ingarians, two Voltures, a small robot named CL30 bobbing beside a green-skinned rogue named Zorine, all of the characters lost or forgotten in the TV series and the extended universe of the novels.
The last scene fades to black, and the title screen reappears as the triumphant soundtrack plays—STARFIELD. People in their cars cheer and beep their horns, and some turn on their headlights to leave before the Star Wars film.
We sit back and wait. Even if we were going to leave before The Rise of Skywalker, we wouldn’t do it before the end of the credits. That’s a rookie move for any nerd.
Annie props herself up on her elbows as the credits begin to roll. “Okay, so, dish.”
I give her a blank look. “About what?”
“Mama needs that sweet, sweet Vance Reigns gossip.”
“…Oh.”
“Please don’t call yourself mama,” Quinn says, fishing out a can of red soda that turns their tongue pink. They toss another to Annie, who pops it open and quickly slurps up the fizz bubbling over the tab.
I shrug. “I haven’t really seen much of him.”
“Isn’t he supposed to be helping you?” Quinn asks.
“Yeah, as if.” I laugh.
Annie sighs. “Well, that’s disheartening. So he really is just like all the rumors say? Hot, spoiled, selfish,” she counts, listing off his finer qualities on one hand. “Hot. Did I mention super hunkin’ hot?”
“Don’t forget infuriating,” I add, remembering the way he glared at me Friday evening when he returned from his jog with his dog. Why does he hate me so much? I shouldn’t even be on his radar, I’m not in his league. It doesn’t make sense.
“So what I’m hearing is that he is Sond. He probably didn’t even have to act for the part.” Annie fishes for some more bug spray in her beach bag. “Sad, really.”
Quinn gives her a look. “You thought he’d be Prince Charming?”
“Well, it’d be nice—for Rosie’s sake. Wouldn’t it have been the coolest meet-cute? Two lovestruck fools meet for the first time in a sunlight-soaked library. It’s the stuff of dreams. Besides, even when you do win Homecoming—and you will, oh you definitely will—she’ll need a date for the dance.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, and it won’t be Vance Reigns. Not in any universe—oh hey”—I quickly scramble to sit up again—“the bonus scene’s on.”
On the screen, the bonus scene from the home video release flickers to life, and the crowd quiets. Carmindor steps into a courtroom filled with gnarled old men. I sort of wish that this scene had been included in the theatrical release, but I don’t think Sond was announced back then.
It’s hard to imagine it’s been a year since Starfield came out and they announced the sequel. It’s hard to imagine that Starfield was the last movie I saw with my mom before…
Well, just before.
“You’ve requested me, Father?” Carmindor asks the gray-haired man on the elegant iron-and-rust throne.
“No,” another voice interrupts, and a rush of cheers echoes through the nighttime drive-in as on-screen a white coat swishes, and a tall and broad figure steps into frame. White-blond hair, glowing uniform, striking blue eyes—my heart kicks against my rib cage. Because I remember them from a few nights ago, from the first moment I saw him, a shadow with cornflower eyes. And somehow that reminds me of the young man on the balcony, dressed as Sond, but with a smile like a galactic prince. “I requested you, Prince Carmindor.”