This is totally the part of the animated film where the lovesick main character sings a cinematic ballad about how much they want love. How it’s so close, yet so far. It’s the song that gets the Oscar nod and a remix by Beyoncé.

“Sooo …” I clear my throat and draw out the o for far too long like the awkward goose I am. “What’d you buy in there?”

He doesn’t waste a beat, positioning his bag on the railing. “Glad you asked.” He reaches in. “There are three items, so I’ll give you four guesses.”

“How very Rumpelstiltskin of you,” I say, and he glares at me. A smile spreads across my face because it’s so obvious, I can’t even deal. “Fine. Okay. Um. A book.”

“I have to confer with the judges on that.” Jack turns his head and whispers to himself like a play actor on stage. “It’s vague, but given the nature of the shop from whence it came, we’ll give it to you. But that’s your one pass.”

He pulls out a leather-bound journal with a metallic pen that looks carved from stone. “It’s a magic journal, or so the shop owner claims. It’s basically a regular journal but with a special pen that has disappearing ink.” He waves the pen. “Seems like the kind of thing that would spark a quest of some kind. Or at least secrets.”

“We love main characters with secrets,” I say.

He shifts his weight from leg to leg. “Next item,” he says, rather quickly.

“Uh, a book on that Hemingway dude you like.”

He makes a noise like a buzzer. “Wrong! And I’ll ignore your dudeifying of Ernie Hem for now. You have two guesses and two items left.”

“This game is rigged.”

What the hell could be in his bag? I could say, “Another book,” but that’s no fun. I did see a specialty candy rack in the store, and who doesn’t like candy? A monster, that’s who. “A candy bar.”

“Are you even trying?” Jack accuses playfully. “One more guess. Give up?”

“To the likes of you, never!”

Okay, Chase, focus. The hell is in this boy’s bag? I’ve already lost, but I could potentially get one more if I just think.

Of course, there are no thoughts in my head.

“Fine, white flag.”

He lights up. “I always win this game.” He pulls out a small pink bottle that looks like a witch’s brew of some kind.

“Seriously? How the hell would I ever have guessed that?”

“I don’t know. I figured it was in keeping with the whole quest theme,” he says. “My best friend back home would dunk on me so hard if he saw this.”

I take the bottle and read the label:

Clarity: For the traveler who seeks clarity of mind and love

“Interesting choice.”

Jack snort-laughs. “I was thinking about what you said that day we met. About how every story is a love story. It’s true, I think. I feel like ever since move-in day, I’ve been in my own version of the Inmost Cave, and I’m just trying to clear my head a bit to see what my story is.” He looks away, out toward the lake. “For my character, I mean.”