Good.
I got as comfortable as I could and turned my attention to the screen, getting lost in the film I knew by heart. A little less than three and a half hours later, the credits rolled, and the lights came on. There was an announcement that there would be a ten-minute break before the showing of The Two Towers.
I blinked as my eyes readjusted to the light. I stretched my neck, feeling stiff from sitting in an awkward position for so long.
“Why are you sitting in the worst seat in the entire theater?”
So much for going unnoticed.
I looked up at Adam, who held an empty tub of popcorn and wore a wry expression.
“Someone was in my usual spot,” I pointed out.
“Our usual spot you mean,” Adam countered. “And you could have sat beside me, you know. I don’t have cooties. Or at least I don’t think so.”
“You’ve been with Chelsea. There’s no telling what diseases you have.” I immediately wished I had kept the snarky comment to myself. I was growing tired of the endless angry retorts that I hurled his way. I had wanted to come to the movies and enjoy something that had always made me happy. I didn’t want to spend the time pissed off.
Adam sighed. “Can we call a truce? For one damn day, please? We can sit in the same movie theater and not have to drag each other through the mud, can’t we?”
I got to my feet, needing to use the bathroom and wanting to get more snacks. Adam indicated for me to go ahead of him.
“Yeah, we can do that,” I conceded.
“Good,” Adam said quietly.
I walked out of the theater and made a beeline for the bathroom. I took my time, hoping Adam would have gone back into the theater when I came out.
Of course, he hadn’t. He was waiting by the snack counter, checking his phone. He looked up as I approached, a hesitant smile on his face. He held out a box of Reese’s Pieces. “My peace offering.”
I took the candy. “Thanks. Though these are your favorite, not mine.”
“I know, but they don’t have any Cookie Dough bites.”
I opened the box and dumped some into my mouth. “I guess these will have to do then.”
I got in line and ordered a bottle of water and some nachos this time. Adam waited and walked back to the theater with me.
“Think you can make it another eight hours? I’m not sure we ever made it the whole way through in one sitting. And definitely not the extended versions.” Adam held the door open for me. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I could open my own door, but we were trying this whole truce thing, so I kept the barb to myself.
“Oh, I can handle it. I have Samwise Gamgee level commitment,” I joked, though it sounded forced. “I’m not so sure you have it in you, though.”
“I’ll take that as a challenge then,” he volleyed back.
Adam followed me down the aisle, and when I made my way to the seat I had vacated, he put a hand on my elbow and steered me towards the primo middle seat. “Don’t be so stubborn. Your old seat is vacant and waiting for you.”
I paused uncertainly. Adam gave me a slight push in the center of my back. “Come on. You’re being ridiculous. I’ll even let you have some of my Dots.”
He was right, I was being ridiculous. I noticed that the grandma and her grandson had left, and aside from the couple practically screwing in the back of the theater, we were the only ones there. Sitting by myself would be immature. He was making an effort, and even after everything I had said to him yesterday, I realized I was tired of holding onto my righteous rage.
“Yeah, okay. Only because you have Dots, though.” I sat down in ol’ reliable seat number thirty-six. There was new upholstery, and it was a bit cleaner than it used to be when I was a kid, but other than that, the theater hadn’t changed. I remembered Adam and me sneaking in to see Gladiator when we were thirteen. We had bought tickets to see Dinosaur but slipped in to see the R rated movie instead.
I propped my feet up on the back of the seat in front of me and dug into my nachos. Adam sat down beside me, his arm bumping into mine. “Don’t think you can take up the whole armrest,” he warned, giving me a shove.
“Well, aren’t you a gentleman,” I said sarcastically, giving his arm a harder push than he gave me.
“Aren’t you supposed to be an empowered woman? I don’t want to insult you by thinking you need preferential treatment.” He plonked his arm right down beside mine. I could only handle the direct contact for a few seconds before I put my hand in my lap.