“Linwood. Wanna play a game?”
“What kind of game?”
“Pop quiz. Couple stuff. Things real couples are supposed to know about each other. We wrote it into the rules. We have a four-hour window to get good at it.”
She waits.
“What’s my coffee order?”
“I know this one.” She raises an eyebrow. “Whatever I’m drinking.”
I scoff.
“I know your middle name,” she says.
“You do?”
“It’s Robert.”
“It’s not Robert. It’s Henry. After my grandfather. Stanley Henry Ermington. We are going to have to do better than this before we hit that driveway.”
She bites the inside of her cheek, so she won’t smile.
I run her through what I know. When her father coached me over the summer, I learned everything about the Linwoods. I know how her father met her mother, where they had their wedding, how they wanted more kids, but it just didn’t happen, where they go on vacations, and all of the small little things that one shouldn’t know about a fake girlfriend’s family.
“You know more about me than I know about you.”
“One afternoon with my family will change that.”
She says, “That was a concerning amount of things, Ermington.”
“It’s going to be useful by three o’clock.”
We reach the airport soon after. I get out faster than she can, so I can grab all of our things.
She reaches for her carry-on and says, “I can carry my own—”
“Linwood, I got it.”
“Let me––”
“No.” I shut the back door. “I got it.”
She doesn’t argue as she locks her car and places the keys in the zipper of her purse. She walks beside me with tense shoulders. I keep my eyes forward and walk to the parking structure’s elevator.
She follows me in and presses the button. It feels oddly quiet, and I’m not used to the silence. I open my mouth, and then theelevator doors open, and a family steps in, smiling at Aspen. She smiles back, looking down at their baby. I’m looking at the baby, too. It’s staring up at Aspen, so she lifts her hand and waves.
When the doors open again, we’re across the street from the departures of different airlines. Aspen points in the direction we need to go, so I follow her lead while the baby stares at her the entire way. Funny baby, giving me proof that energy doesn’t lie.
When we step inside, I head straight for the kiosk. Boarding pass already on my phone. We have no luggage, so this is smooth sailing. She’s at the kiosk beside me, entering her information. I wait patiently, knowing that we need to walk in that direction for TSA. I’ve only done this at least six hundred times.
The pie gets through TSA, and I’m the happiest man alive.
“I don’t think we should lie about the pie,” Aspen says as we walk to our gate. “What you did back there made it so obvious.”
“What?” I scoff. “He believed me.”
She shakes her head. “You didn’t see his face after you grabbed it back.”
