Chapter 4
The place Freddie was talking about turned out to be the Hollywood Lounge, in the Hollywood Land section of the park.
It looked like an old fifties-style hamburger stand—no indoor seating, just a walk-up window and then tables and chairs outside.
There was a checkerboard tile pattern, and ICE COLD REFRESHMENT was spelled out along the top of the roof in neon letters that glowed brightly against the darkness.
Freddie went to the food trucks that were parked nearby, but I stayed put and contemplated the menu.
I decided on a burger, fries, and a Coke, feeling like I could use a little jolt of caffeine.
Freddie got his food—a burrito and a sparkling water—around the same time I did, and we sat down at one of the white metal outdoor tables in front of the restaurant.
We had our choice of seats, since the tables were mostly empty.
The only other person there was a guy who I assumed was a chaperone, yawning over a plate of onion rings.
But it made sense it was so deserted—everyone else at the park was trying to get everything they could out of tonight.
They were having a blast on all the rides and dancing at the DJ stations and probably didn’t want to waste any time sitting down to eat a meal.
It wasn’t until Freddie and I were sitting across from each other, bathed in the glow of the neon, that I started to feel a little bit nervous.
I knew that this wasn’t a date—I had only, just moments ago, even been officially introduced to this guy.
But there was something about this—the night, the neon, sitting across from him in a nearly deserted sea of tables—that made it feel date-ish.
Not that I’d had a ton of experience on dates, or with guys in general. There was my SLO lab partner—and Bruce, of course. But both of those guys had felt like they were from a world I understood. Freddie was a British guy in a band, and I was suddenly feeling out of my depth.
“You made a good call with the chips. I mean…fries,” Freddie said, putting on an American accent for the word and making me laugh. “They’re the best in the park.”
“Oh yeah?” I picked up one and bit into it as my stomach rumbled again. Freddie was right—they were crisp and just the right amount of salty. “Really good,” I agreed as I reached for my burger.
“The burrito is good, too,” he said, lifting it up. “And I sometimes get the burger, but it’s just too complicated.”
I paused, midbite. “Complicated?”
“I have kind of a weird allergy,” he explained. “I can’t have any raw fruit or vegetables.”
“Really?”
“Yep. If they’re cooked it’s fine, but I can’t do raw. No berries or anything. And so when I get a burger it has to be totally plain—no lettuce, onion, tomato, nothing. And so sometimes it’s just easier to get something else.”
“I don’t think that sounds like a real allergy. I think that’s something you made up when you were a kid and didn’t want to eat your vegetables.”
He laughed, and I felt myself start to relax. “You’re not the first one to suspect that, believe me. In primary school, my friends were always trying to sneak things into my food to see if I was lying.”
“So you can’t have salad? Carrot sticks? Smoothies?” He shook his head, giving a little shrug. “What happens if you do have them?”
“Hives,” he said matter-of-factly. “My whole face starts to swell up. It’s not attractive.”
“I find that hard to imagine.” A second later, I realized what I’d just said, and took a quick sip of my Coke to try and cover.
Freddie took a big bite of his burrito and nodded appreciatively. “Now, this is amazing. We don’t have anything like this back home.”
“And where’s back home?”
“London,” he said, then shook his head. “Well, kind of. I grew up in Croydon. I was only in the city proper for about five months before getting this gig and coming here.” He paused and looked at me. “Have we had this conversation before?”
I shook my head. “Nope. This is by far the most we’ve ever talked.”
He set down his burrito and made a go-on gesture. “So, walk me through it. How does it work?”
I regarded him for a moment, just trying to get a sense of what he was thinking. “Are you saying you believe me?”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” he demurred. “Call me intrigued.”
“Hi, Intrigued,” I said, giving him a wave. “I’m Cass.”
He grinned at that, his dimple making an appearance. “I set myself up for that one, huh?” He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue.
I took a breath. I’d wanted to tell someone else about this—I really had—but now that I had to try and explain this to someone, I wasn’t sure how it was going to come across.
Would I just sound absolutely bonkers? I had no idea—but there didn’t seem to be anything to do except jump in.
“Okay. So I just graduated a few days ago.”
“Hence the trip to Grad Nite,” he said, his voice overly serious.
“Well, exactly. I’m here with my school, Harbor Cove. It’s about twenty minutes from here. More in traffic. Have you been?”
Freddie shook his head. “Unless there’s a bus that goes directly there, let’s just assume I haven’t been, because it’s not like I’m driving. Are you aware people in this country drive on the wrong side of the road?”
“I think you drive on the wrong side of the road. We literally drive on the right.”
“And you don’t even have proper trains!”
“We have trains!” I protested, feeling that America was being unfairly maligned. “There’s the surf liner that goes along the coast. And I know we have one that goes to LA.”
“I’m quite familiar with that train,” he assured me. “But sorry to interrupt. You were here with your class…”
“Right. And it was normal at first. Really fun…” My voice trailed off, and I paused, not sure how much I wanted to go into.
“Well, it got a little weird. I ran into some people that I hadn’t seen in a while, and they weren’t exactly thrilled to see me.
And then…I got into a fight with my best friend, Bryony.
So I just decided I was done, that I was going home.
And as I was leaving…” I stopped and took a drink of my Coke, and Freddie leaned forward, like I was getting to the good part of a mystery.
Which I supposed, on some level, this was.
“Yes?”
“As I was leaving, I made—a wish. I wished that there was a way I could do this over. And then the streetlights flickered, but I honestly didn’t think anything of it at the time.
” Freddie nodded, listening, his eyes not leaving mine.
“I walked out the doors. But then, a second later…” I took a deep breath and made myself say it.
“I was just—back. But it was the beginning of the night, and I was just arriving. And everything had reset.”
“Everything?” he asked, his eyes wide.
“Yes. Like the film rewound and we just started over again. You know, like Groundhog Day—”
“Pettigrew’s Loop,” he said at the same time.
I stopped and blinked at him. “What’s that?”
“What’s—You’ve never seen Pettigrew’s Loop?” he asked, sounding incredulous.
I shook my head. “I assume it’s about someone stuck in a time loop?”
Freddie nodded. “Yes. But since Bernard Pettigrew is a mailman and, well, English, he’s very attached to his routine and doesn’t realize it for a while. Not until he notices the dates on the mail are unchanging.”
“But you have heard of Groundhog Day, right?” I’d never heard of his movie, but it seemed like the same concept.
“Of course. It’s a classic.”
“That’s what I kept thinking of—that somehow I’m in a Groundhog Day situation. And I’m not sure why.” I wasn’t about to tell him that he might be one of the reasons this was happening.
I looked up at him, fully prepared to see him either laughing or scoffing at me—or worse, eyeing me nervously, like I was someone in the throes of a mental breakdown. But Freddie just looked thoughtful, like he was processing everything I was saying.
“I know this probably sounds impossible. And I know you don’t know me. But I swear I’m telling the truth.” I took a deep breath and made myself ask it. “Do you…believe me?”
Freddie looked off to the side and took a moment before he answered. “I mean, I’ve always wanted to believe in something like this,” he said slowly. “I always hoped it would happen to me. Ever since…” He looked down at the T-shirt he was wearing and pointed to it.
“Excalibur?” I asked.
“Excalibur,” he agreed. He cast a quick glance at my fries, and I pushed them across the table to him.
“Be my guest.”
“You’re sure?”
“As long as you’re not going to have an allergic reaction because of the tomatoes in the ketchup. I don’t want that kind of responsibility.”
He took a fry and gave me a smile. “They’re cooked, so I’ll be okay. But thanks for looking out.”
I nodded toward his shirt. “So, you’re just really into the Arthur myth?”
“No, it’s a video game.”
“Excalibur,” I said slowly. This was ringing a bell for some reason. “I think I’ve heard of it. Didn’t it win some kind of video game award?”
Freddie nodded, looking surprised. “Best new game the year it came out. So you’ve played it?”
“No, I just know a lot of random facts.”
He smiled at that. “Well, it’s really great.
My brother, Jack, and I were obsessed with it growing up.
It starts off pretty grounded—you’re in the real world, just walking around.
But that’s your first task—to find your way into the magic world that’s running parallel to the normal world.
And when you find the way in, it’s a whole other kingdom.
The colors are brighter, the music is better—and it’s magical, literally.
It’s this spin on the medieval fantasy world that’s just so fun.
And within the game, you’re going on quests and trying to chase down prophecies and collecting Treasure Tokens. It’s the best.”
“It sounds fun.”