Free Lost in the Sun by Lisa Graff Page B

then sat at the kitchen table to eat them without saying a word. I noticed he had a good eye on us where we were sittingon the couch, through the partition between the kitchen and the living room.
    I bet Fallon’s dad made an excellent cop.
    We didn’t so much watch
Field of Dreams
as chatter all the way through it. Well,
Fallon
chattered, bouncing up from the couch every two minutes or so to tell me something interesting. (I mean, something
she
thought was interesting. Sometimes it was an interesting thing, other times not so much.)
    â€œThere!” she said, pausing the movie. She ran over to the TV. Her fluffy white dog, Squillo, who’d been sleeping on the couch, jumped up too and started yipping. “You see that? The time on the scoreboard? It says eight forty-one, right?”
    I had to squint to see it, because the clock on the scoreboard was so tiny. But Fallon was right. “Yep,” I said. (This was one of the not-very-interesting things.) “Eight forty-one.”
    â€œOkay, watch this.” She unpaused the movie and let it play forward while Squillo ran around in excited circles. Fallon’s dad was still pretend-reading his tablet in the next room over—the world’s slowest eater of eggs. I tried to focus on the movie.
    The shot cut away, to the main character, Ray, and the writer he drags to the game with him, sitting in the stands. Then a second later it cut back to the scoreboard. Fallon paused the movie again. “Look!” she shouted. She was bouncing, hard as Doug. “Boom!”
    Squillo yipped.
    I squinted. It took me a second to see what she was talking about, but after a bit I spotted it. “The clock says ten thirty,” I told her. I waskind of impressed with myself for figuring it out, actually, even though I never would’ve noticed it in a million years if Fallon hadn’t made me look for it.
    Fallon grinned at me. “Right? The clock changed two whole hours in a split second. Total continuity error.”
    I didn’t know what a “continuity error” was, but I wasn’t about to ask.
    â€œA continuity error is when something doesn’t line up from one shot to another,” Fallon told me. Like she thought she could read my mind or whatever. She plopped back next to me on the couch, and Squillo followed her and settled down between us. Fallon started the movie up again. “Like clocks flipping back and forth,” she went on, “or if a guy’s wearing a hat, and then the next time you see him, he’s not. Movies have all sorts of stuff like that. It’s awesome. Wait, there’s another one coming up that’s great.”
    I raised my eyebrows at her. “How many times have you seen this movie?” I asked.
    â€œ
Field of Dreams
?” she said.
    â€œNo,
Transformers Four.
”
    Fallon laughed. “I don’t know. A couple times, maybe. I’m really good at spotting this stuff. I’m training myself to be a script supervisor in Hollywood.” She scratched Squillo behind the ears. “That’s my dream job. It’s the person who keeps track of every single take, and what all the actors are wearing, and what the set looks like, and the lighting and everything, and makes sure there are no errors at all.” Squillo rolled onto his belly, and Fallon began scratching him there, his paws up in the air like he was really enjoying himself. “I’m going to be amazing at it.”
    I snorted. Leave it to Fallon Little to go and declare herself amazing before she’d even started something.
    But I had to admit she might be right.
    â€œOkay, this one’s good,” she told me a few minutes later. “Look, you see how the ground is super wet right as Ray and Terence are leaving Fenway Park? Like it’s just been raining?”
    I leaned forward on the couch. I was pretty sure I knew where she was going. “Only they were just at the game, and it