“Kaylee!” she cried from the sidewalk.
“Thank you, Mr. Adams,” I said, and got out of the car.
Haylee grabbed my hand, as though she was afraid I might change my mind. Mother smiled at us. Haylee turned and, still holding my hand, started for the ticket booth. Mother, as Haylee had anticipated, did not let Mr. Adams drive off until she saw us enter the movie theater.
“It’s a little early yet,” Haylee said as soon as we had entered. “Let’s find seats in the back. You want some popcorn?”
“No.” I was too nervous even to chew gum.
“I do,” she said, and stopped at the counter to buy a bucket of popcorn and some soda.
“Aren’t you nervous about this?” I asked her as we entered theater number one.
“No,” she said. “I’m tired of telling you that I’m not afraid and want to see him very much, so stop asking.”
We sat in the aisle seat and the next seat in the very last row. The movie trailers had started. Haylee began eating her popcorn. I felt numb. She looked at her watch and ate some more popcorn. She offered it to me, but I shook my head. I was watching the screen, but I wasn’t hearing or seeing anything. I kept waiting for her to hand me the popcorn and get up to go. The fact that she was waiting so long gave me new hope. Maybe, just maybe, she was changing her mind, or, even more possible, this rendezvous was never really arranged, but she didn’t want to tell me yet. In her mind, she might still think I was somehow envious. My hope began to build, and then—
“Oooh,” Haylee suddenly moaned. She shoved the bucket of popcorn at me and crouched, holding her stomach.
“What?”
“Oh, no,” she said. She got up and hurried out of the theater. I followed her into the women’s lavatory. She went right to a stall.
“What is it?”
I heard her start to throw up.
“Haylee?” I tried opening the stall door, but she had locked it. “Let me in.”
She groaned, heaved, and moaned. After another minute, she unlocked the stall door. She was sitting on the closed toilet seat, holding her head as she bent over and rocked.
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
“Something upset my stomach. Maybe it’s the flu. Mindy Lorner came down with it today, just like that. One minute, she was talking to me on the phone, and then suddenly, she said, ‘I’ve got to go to the bathroom and throw up.’ She didn’t even hang up. You’re probably going to get it soon, too. You were talking to her on Friday when I was.”
“I’ll call Mother,” I said.
“No! Not yet,” she said. “I’ll get through it, but you have to do something for me.”
“What?”
“You have to go meet Anthony and tell him what happened.”
“What?”
“Please. You have to.”
“Can’t you just email him or call him?”
“No. He’ll think I’ve been playing with him, and he’ll never contact me again. He’ll believe you if you go there. Just tell him and come back,” she said. “I’ll be fine until you do. We don’t want to ruin Mother’s night, too, anyway, right?”
“I don’t know, Haylee. You’re sick. He’s not the most important thing right now.”
“He is to me. You can do this for me, can’t you? Please. I’ll be all right. I’m close to the bathroom. Kaylee!” She screamed at my hesitation. “I’m sick. Do this for me!”
The whole thing was making my head spin. “How did you get sick so fast?”
“I just told you. It’s the flu,” she said, took deep gasps, and lowered her head. “Are you going or not? Are you going to make me do it? I’ll be throwing up in the street.”