Just a Little Honesty by Tracie Puckett

just a small brick building set up a few feet away from the enormous projection screen. There was a single window on the front of the building where the two workers—both girls no younger than myself—served hungry moviegoers one at a time.
    I stood in line for a few long minutes and watched over my shoulder for Luke. I kept waiting to see him hiding behind a car, peeking up occasionally to see if I’d run away. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find him ducking behind a trash can or even army crawling through the crowd. It was too uncharacteristic of Luke to let me have that kind of freedom—no strings attached.
    When I stood in line for five minutes and still hadn’t spotted him, I assumed that meant he’d actually trusted me enough to walk away without fleeing.
    When it was finally my turn to order, I asked for a large bag of popcorn and paid the bubbly girl on the other end of the raised counter. She passed me my change—$4.75—with a smile and a nod of thanks.
    With my order in hand, I followed the others to the side of the building to dress my popcorn. I stopped at a small table and pumped (a few too many) squirts of butter into the bag.
    As I turned on my heel to head back to the car, something silver caught my eye. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it until that moment, but there it was—stuck to the side of the building and plain as day.
    I looked around again to see if Luke was anywhere in sight, but I didn’t see his face anywhere. I tucked the bag of popcorn in my arm and cradled it against my side as I opened my hand to count the change I’d gotten from the cashier. Carrying the three quarters to the pay phone on the side of the building, I looked over my shoulder once again. I picked up the receiver, inserted the change, and quickly dialed the only number that came to mind.
    It only rang through once before I heard a small bit of static.
    “Hello?”
    “Mattie,” I whispered, turning into the pay phone so that no one could see my face.
    “Julie,” my cousin said, and almost too loud. “Oh my God. Are you okay? Where are you?”
    “I can’t stay on,” I said, still whispering. “I only have a few seconds, and I’m not supposed to be calling. I got a minute away from Luke, and I wanted to check in.”
    “Are you safe?” he asked, and he sounded as if he was struggling to speak through tears. “Tell me you’re okay.”
    “I’m fine,” I said, taking deep breaths. “What’s Charlie told you?”
    “Nothing—”
    “Okay,” I said, not holding back for a second. Matt deserved to know as much as I could tell him. “We’re settled in. We’re about six hundred miles out of Oakland in a little town called Piqua. It’s not anything to brag about, but it’s okay, I guess.” I tried to smile, but just knowing he was on the other end of the call brought tears flooding to my eyes. “How’re things there? Has anything changed?”
    “We’re safe. No sightings,” he said quickly. “The town’s on high alert. They’ve shut down all the businesses and cancelled school—”
    “Okay,” I said, hating that I had to cut our call so short. “Listen, I have to go, but I’ll do my best to reach you again as soon as possible.”
    “Julie,” he said, and I could hear his heavy breaths as they passed through the phone. “I’m sorry.”
    “I know,” I said, feeling a tear creep down my cheek. “Me too.”
    And before he had time to say another word, I hung up the phone and turned back to the crowd. I half-expected to turn straight into Luke, but he was still nowhere in sight. I made my way back through the growing group of moviegoers—feeling uneasy and a little guilty—and I finally reached the fourth row. Luke was still seated on the hood of the car, and he smiled as I walked up to join him.
    “I said I didn’t want anything,” he said, eyeing the large popcorn bag.
    “I know,” I said, taking a fistful and shoving it in my mouth. “That’s why I didn’t get the jumbo