“Time passes by you like a bullet,” he says, “and fear gives you the excuses you’re craving to not do the things you know you should. Don’t doubt yourself, don’t second-guess, don’t let fear hold you back, don’t be lazy, and don’t base your decisions on how happy it will make others. Just go for it, okay?”
I stare up at him, and unfortunately, that’s all I can seem to do. I want to smile, because my heart is swelling, and it feels good, but I’m also filled with something I can’t place. It’s like a dozen different emotions flooding in at once, and all I can manage are short, shallow breaths.
“Okay,” I whisper to him.
I’m not sure if what he said was what I wanted to hear or needed to hear, but I feel my shoulders square a bit more and my chin rise with readiness. For however long it lasts, I’m a little braver, and he’s my new hero.
I watch as he pulls out a small box and proceeds to light a match, the small flame burning bright. He sticks it in one of the donuts, all the pink frosting Shel asked for, because she knows it’s my favorite color, glowing in the light. I feel my heart warm at the gesture.
Taking my feet down, I lean forward, close my eyes, and ask for what I want in my head, and then I blow out the flame.
I didn’t wish for what I usually wish for, though. My mind is suddenly blank, and I’m not remembering all the things I need and want right now outside of this theater. Just the only thing I can think of.
We both sit back and settle in, each having another donut as the lights finally dim, and the surround sound hits us from both sides of the theater.
Over the next ninety minutes, we eat and laugh, and I hide my face a couple times when I know something’s coming. I jerk here and there and laugh at him when he does, too, because he looks embarrassed. After a while, I notice my head lays inclined toward him, and he has his foot up on the empty chair ahead of us with his head laid back, as well, and we’re completely comfortable. It hasn’t even occurred to me to keep a certain distance.
I don’t watch a lot of movies with other people. I’m not used to just sitting in silence with someone else. Cole’s and my schedules don’t always mesh, my sister, Cam, doesn’t have any free time anymore, and most of my high school friendships didn’t last past graduation about a year ago. It’s nice to hang out.
By the time the credits roll, I’m not sure I remember much of the movie. But I haven’t been this relaxed in a long time. I laughed and smiled and joked around and forgot everything that’s going on out there, and I needed that. I don’t really want to go home yet.
The lights start to come up, and I slowly sit up, bringing my feet back to the floor as I swallow the lump in my throat and glance over at him. He sits up, too, but he barely meets my eyes.
Standing up, I hook the strap of the bag over my head and pick up my garbage.
“Well, they’re showing Poltergeist in a few weeks,” he says behind me, rising and taking his trash with him. “If I see you, I’ll make sure to sit at higher ground.”
I laugh under my breath, thinking about the wine. We both exit the row and walk for the doors, and I notice Jay and his date aren’t in their seats anymore. They must’ve left already, but truth be told, I forgot they were here a long time ago.
Poltergeist. Does that mean he’ll be here then? Is this his way of nonchalantly letting me know in case I just happen to want to come, too?
But no, he knows I have a boyfriend.
I can’t help but think, though, if for some reason Cole and I didn’t make it another month, would I come to the movies then, knowing he’d be here?
I blink long and hard, guilt washing over me as I trail up the aisle. I’d probably be here. There aren’t a lot of “catches” in this town, and I had fun tonight. This guy is interesting.
And good-looking.
And employed.
I should set him up with my older sister. How he’s gone by undetected under her radar all this time is a mystery to me.
We push through the door, the last ones out of the theater and stop in the lobby, tossing away all our trash.
I look up at him, my heart skipping a beat at seeing him in the brighter light and standing tall in front of me. Hazel eyes. Definitely hazel. But more green around the outside of the irises.
His hair is styled with minimal product and just long enough to run your fingers through, and I drop my eyes to his smooth, tan neck. I can’t see if there’s a tan line under the collar of his T-shirt, though. Is he like that all over? An unbidden image of him hammering and hauling lumber without a shirt on flashes in my mind and I…
I close my eyes again, shaking my head. Yeah, whoa, okay.
“Um, I better head back,” I tell him, gripping the strap of my bag. “Hopefully my boyfriend is waiting at the bar to pick me up by now.”
“Bar?”
“Grounders?” I answer, thinking he probably should know the place. It’s one of only three bars in town, although many favor Poor Red’s or the strip club over the dive I work at. “I got off a little early tonight—unexpectedly—but he’s my ride, and I couldn’t get a hold of him. He should be there now, though.”
He pushes the door open, holding it for me as I leave the theater, and follows me out.