“Let me guess,” Joey said. “‘Dear Friend, thank you so much for this message blah blah blah I’m too busy to respond to everyone blah blah blah Wiz Kids Wednesday nights at eight.’ Something like that?”
“No, it said ‘What time?’” Topher said. “So I responded with my address and the time we were leaving but didn’t hear back after that. I was up all night stressing over whether or not Cash Carter was planning to show up this morning.”
He pulled the exchange up on his phone so they could see it for themselves. Joey and Sam looked at each other, looked back at Topher, and then burst into laughter. They laughed so hard tears came to their eyes. Their amusement was contagious and Topher snickered at his own stupidity.
“Pretty dumb, right?” Topher said.
“Oh gosh, that’s hysterical!” Joey laughed. “Someone at his website was totally messing with you! And you believed it!”
“This is just like that thing during freshman year,” Sam said. “Remember when Mo thought she was Facebooking with the real Tobey Ramous? But it turned out to be a creepy old man with an Asian fetish!”
“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Topher said. “At least mine came from a reliable source.”
“I still can’t believe you thought there was even a chance Cash Carter would show up in Downers Grove.” Joey laughed. “Can you imagine any celebrity driving cross country in an old station wagon? You should never have told us, because we aren’t ever letting you forget about it.”
Suddenly, the sound of screeching brakes caught them by surprise. They turned just in time to see a shiny black town car pull up to the curb. The driver hopped out and hurried to open the passenger door. A cigarette butt was flicked out of the backseat first and was followed by a very good-looking man in his early twenties. He wore thick sunglasses, a black leather jacket, dark jeans, and designer boots. The passenger yawned and stretched before turning toward Topher and his friends.
“Howdy,” the passenger said. “Are one of you guys Topher Collins?”
Topher, Joey, and Sam went numb from head to toe. They couldn’t feel, they couldn’t think, they couldn’t even breathe—all they could do was stare at the newcomer as if he were Bigfoot.
“Holy fuckballs.” Joey gasped. “You’re Cash Carter.”
Cash eyed the paralyzed trio over his sunglasses.
“Yup, this is definitely it,” he announced.
It took them a few moments to realize who he was because Cash looked nothing like the nerdy quantum physics expert he played on television, but more like a modern James Dean. His hair was messy, he had stubble and poor posture. Without the benefits of a well-lit set, for the first time they noticed his pores, the lines on his forehead, and a hint of crow’s-feet.
“Thanks for the lift, Larry,” Cash said. “Sorry it was scheduled on such short notice.”
The driver popped the trunk and handed Cash a black backpack with golden zippers. The actor slipped his driver some money and shook his hand.
“No problem at all, Mr. Carter,” Larry said. “Enjoy your trip and let us know next time you’re in the Chicago area.”
Larry returned to the driver’s seat and drove off, leaving Cash alone in the presence of three very still, quiet, and bewildered teenagers.
“No, you’re not dreaming—I’m really here,” Cash said playfully, but still didn’t get a response out of them. “Oh come on, you can’t be that surprised to see me. You did invite me, after all.”
“Yes—we did! I mean—I d-d-did!” Topher stuttered. “I’m Topher Collins. It is such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carter.”
Topher stepped forward and shook Cash’s hand so aggressively he almost broke it.
“That’s quite a handshake you’ve got,” Cash said.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry!” Topher said. “Forgive us, but we’re kind of freaking out right now. I hoped you might come, but I didn’t expect you’d actually show up. Wait—you’re not here because you think I’m dying, right? I hope no one told you I was sick or something, because I’m perfectly healthy.”
Cash shrugged. “Nope, I’m here totally of my own volition,” he said. “Joining a bunch of strangers on a road trip isn’t something I make a hobby out of, but I figured, why the fuck not? You only live once. Unless you’re a Buddhist, then you come back a couple times, apparently—just something I read on the plane. Reincarnation, they call it. Are these the friends you wrote about?”
Joey and Sam sheepishly stepped forward to greet him.
“Hello, sir,” Sam said, and bowed like he was approaching royalty. “My name is Sam. Can I just say, it is an honor and a privilege to be in your presence—an honor and a privilege.”
“I’m Joey—Joey Davis,” he said, unsure of what to do with his hands. “Big fan, man. Big fan!”