Page 4 of Love at Full Tilt
He doesn’t have any swag bags and his pin is fixed low enough on his shirt that it’s barely visible. Almost like he doesn’t want to be here.
Still, I turn back. I can’t help it. He’s a superfan, like me. The first one I’ve encountered outside the internet since middle school. Our eyes meet, and the intensity of his gaze jolts my heart out of rhythm.
“I’m Lia,” I say. My wild pulse almost makes me stumble over my own name.
“Mason,” he says softly. Then he’s immersed in his book again like he never looked away.
His name echoes in my head as I shepherd Tess toward Issy, who has found a table near the entrance.
I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about it.
It’s not that unique a name, and it’s not like he did anything but give me a nice introduction to the floor.
Besides, I’m not here to meet someone. I’m here to win a contest that could change my life.
And Mason is one of the people standing in my way.
I manage not to think about him again until I’m sitting with my friends, the heaping plate of food in front of me making my mouth water.
I survey the crowd, trying to identify who might be my biggest competition.
The nonbinary person with the Percivel Night tattoo on their shoulder?
The couple wearing matching Dudley the Raccoon headbands?
The team that looks like a mom and a daughter quizzing each other at the table behind me?
The superhot guy with no chair etiquette?
My gaze flicks in the direction of Mason’s table, but it’s empty.
“I thought the app did all that?” Issy says.
An hour later, we’re finally settled into our room for the night, our stomachs full to the brim and one of the queen beds smothered in swag. Issy and I have collapsed on the other bed, while Tess lies among the maps she’s strewn over the floor.
Tess scoffs. “Cartography’s for amateurs.”
“Or people who want to get around the parks efficiently.” I flash her a smile as I get up and wander over to the window.
Our resort is named after the Starshatter, a ship from Fable Industry’s blockbuster animated film about two kids and their dog who befriend an alien and save the galaxy from annihilation.
The hotel has been constructed in its likeness, with a glass dome ceiling tinted and strung with twinkle lights in the shape of constellations so it feels like we’re floating in space.
“This is not about efficiency.” Tess has her tongue jammed between her lips and she’s poring over the map for Phoenix’s Landing—Fableland’s oldest and most iconic park.
Her pen hovers an inch above the glossy paper as she sketches invisible lines over the images.
“This is about immersion. We only have six days and we’re doing it all.
At every park. So I’m trying to find the best way.
” She narrows her eyes, then scribbles something in the notebook beside her.
Lying on her stomach, her legs bent at the knee, she gives her right foot a little kick every time she gets anidea.
“You know we have to head to Dudley’s Tailspin for my first clue before we do any of…this.” I point to her plans with an open hand.
Tess spins one of her curls around her pen. “It’s probably okay if you’re not there first thing.”
“It’s not. The rules make clear that people are going to be cut every day. I can’t chance getting to any of the clues too late.”
Issy shakes her head. “I don’t even understand how you figured this one out so fast. I tried searching those phrases online forever and got nothing.”
“It’s like a riddle.” I lean against the window, its glass pleasantly cold from the air-conditioning. “Bread becomes toast in a toaster—”
“But what about an oven?” Tess suggests. “You can toast bread in there too. Or on a frying pan.”
“Sure, but can you think of any significant frying pans or ovens from the Fable Industry movies?”
Tess shrugs. “I haven’t seen any of the latest ones.”
The answer’s no. I’ve watched every Fable Industry movie multiple times, and I pored over my notes and checked F 3 the other night just to be sure.
“The third Dudley movie has a toaster. One that time-travels. That would explain how toast becomes bread.” From there it was simple enough.
The clue is about the Dudley films, and the first one involves Dudley and his sidekick Squirt the Squirrel stealing back some crown jewels, which are something that would definitely adorn a royal head.
“Yeah, but how do you know we need to go to the roller coaster?” Tess points to the map. “That entire section of Phoenix’s Landing is Dudley themed.”
“Because that’s the only place where both the crown and the toaster can be found together.” There’s a hidden elevator shaft in the queue for Dudley’s Tailspin that houses every item Dudley and Squirt have stolen.
Tess makes a face and cuts her eyes back to her itinerary. My gaze follows hers to the maps, tracing over place after place that I’ve imagined for a decade. In the morning, they’ll become real. My heart speeds up a little. It’s like I’m standing in the same room as a celebrity.
There was a time when Tess and Issy were as wrapped up in Fableland as I was.
By the end of sixth grade, we’d papered Issy’s walls with lists of the parks’ secrets and had watched every Fable Industry movie to the point that they replayed in our dreams. One rainy night in April, while the three of us were squashed onto Issy’s bed watching the end of Sunspark for easily the hundredth time (Elorra and Oliver have the best kiss), Issy whispered, “We should do it.”
Tess’s eyebrows quirked. “Kiss?”
“No.” Issy hit her in the face with a pillow. “Visit Fableland. Find Elorra’s lab”—she jabbed her finger at one of the sheets of paper on her wall—“and the tree and the sunspark.”
“And all the other Easter eggs,” I added.
Tess’s face went bright with scheming. “After senior year. A post-high-school-survival celebration.”
Issy’s grin spread wide. “A precollege blowout.”
I cheered. Back then, I thought college was an option for me,too.
But as we got older, their lives got bigger.
There were fewer movie nights and more parties.
Issy repainted her walls a neutral cream and the Fable Industry memorabilia was replaced with food layouts from cooking magazines and recipes she wanted to try.
Tess became a field hockey, softball, and mathlete star; Issy launched her YouTube channel and began staging most weekends in the fine-dining restaurant of a family friend.
Every year, more paths opened up for them, while I dug deeper into Fableland as my parents hung up Employee of the Year plaques with my face and designed my “manager” apron and named a collection of bedroom furniture after me.
All of it solidifying the one-way street I couldn’t escape.
Now I’m the only one who still cares about the parks or Sunspark or any of it. I’m not even sure Tess and Issy remember that promise we made or realize that we’re about to fulfill it.
I pin a smile to my face and try to pump enthusiasm into my body. It doesn’t matter if we’re here for the same reasons or not. We’re at Fableland, and I plan to make the most of every second.
“I can head over to Dudley’s Tailspin in the morning while you two ride the Moon Drop.”
Tess gasps. “You can’t skip the free fall!”
“Or the moon pies at the shop next door!” Issy adds. She shifts to the center of the bed and folds her long legs under her. “What if we wing it?” She traces the starred pattern of the comforter with her index finger, her eyes glued to the fabric.
From the look of horror Tess shoots her, you’d think Issy confessed to eating puppies. “Pardon me?”
“We can figure it out as we go. Hit all Lia’s clues and see everything in the parks. We’re on vacation. We don’t need to plan every second.”
Tess’s eyes are wide pools of mahogany brown. “You’re a monster.”
My phone beeps with a new message, so I leave them to bicker and curl up in an armchair beside the small desk. I don’t need to look at the screen to know who it’s from.
Mom
Everything okay?
(8:30 PM)
Lia
Yes. It’s only been an hour. We haven’t left the hotel.
(8:33 PM)
Mom
I know but I wanted to make sure you’re still okay.
(8:34 PM)
Yep. We’ve only gotten mugged twice since we last spoke.
Everything’s great! Our neighbors in the hotel have already offered us booze and drugs.
I erase both responses as quickly as I type them. My thumb jams so hard into my screen that my nail bends backward, a burst of pain racing to my knuckle. I wish humor worked for Mom as well as it does for me. It’s like defusing a bomb, preventing my frustration from blasting out of my skin.
Issy walks over to the chair and curls up on the floor, then rests her head against my leg to stop its bouncing. She peers up at me. “Placate her. Then you can do whatever you want.”
“Operation Freedom,” I mutter as I type.
Lia
Yep. We’re settling in to watch a movie and then get some sleep. Early wake-up tomorrow.
(8:40 PM)
Mom
That sounds fun.
(8:41 PM)
Mom
Make sure you call a lot.
(8:48 PM)
I know what a lot means for her. Every hour. More than that if I can. But it’s not exactly a parent-free experience if I spend more time talking to my mother than going on rides.
My leg starts to dance hard enough that I knock poor Issy in the head. She doesn’t move, only hugs my calf instead, like she can keep me still. Help me find some calm.
Rationally, I know my mom can’t always control her bad thoughts.
And I don’t want her to worry. I want her to be okay.
But I need a break. That’s what this trip is supposed to be.
A momentary oasis from that house where it feels like a hand is perpetually pressed over my mouth and nose. Stifling all my oxygen. Smothering me.