The Green Ticket

by Samantha March

  “What’s your favorite sport?”

  “Probably baseball. I was the starting pitcher my junior and senior year. I got offered a scholarship to play at a college in Wisconsin, but didn’t take it.”

  The waiter appeared then, dropping a basket of warm bread and an oil dipping sauce at our table. He made a big production of dropping some black seeds into the oil and mixing it around, then placing tiny bread plates in front of us. I reached for a piece of bread and dropped it on my plate, avoiding the oil.

  “Why didn’t you take the scholarship?” I asked, curious.

  “My family preferred me to stick with business. Hopefully join my dad’s company one day, take over the family business kind of thing. My brother only wants to do the design part, more of the architecture, than actually run the business.”

  “I see. And what kind of company does your dad run?”

  “He deals a lot with properties. Like buying old homes, flipping them, and then selling them for a lot more.”

  “Flipping them?”

  “Cleaning them up, making them look nicer, more sellable. Jacob is a big asset to him with his architecture work. I think Dad wants me to fall into either business.”

  “And you’re not really interested in either?” I took a guess.

  Henry shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “No. Not really. I don’t care much about either. I interned at Jacob’s company when I first came to Kaufman, and I can do it. I really can. I understand the blueprints and the designing aspects and all that. But I didn’t feel anything when I was doing it. It was just...mundane. Boring. Tedious. And with Dad’s line of work, I mean, it’s cool. It’s awesome to see the before and after of these houses. But all the work that goes into securing the house, then hiring the people to do the work, then putting the house on the market, blah, blah. It’s boring to me.”

  Our meals came then, steaming plates that smelled like heaven in a meatball. My manicotti looked exquisite. I didn’t think I had ever thought exquisite when it came to a meal prior to coming to Bellini’s, but that is just what my dinner looked like. The salad even looked like a high-class salad, with lettuce that looked so crisp I just wanted to crack it, tomatoes and cucumbers piled high, tiny little croutons, and a mystery nut sprinkled throughout. I wasn’t sure what the dressing was, but as Lila warned me, it surely wasn’t ranch.

  “This looks amazing. I’m almost afraid to eat it. It’s like art,” I whispered, then immediately felt a little silly. Henry had eaten here before, and from the way he spoke about his family, it sounded like they had money. I was just the poor starving girl who always forgot to eat.

  To my relief, Henry grinned back at me, his smile flapping the wings of the butterflies taking up residence in my stomach. “I know, right? If I can tell you the truth, this place always scares me a bit. I feel like I can’t make one mistake or I’ll be kicked out. Heaven forbid I don’t eat my salad with the correct fork or don’t place my napkin in the proper place to signal I’m done.”

  “Where does the napkin go when you’re done?”

  “On the plate. Not on the table. I learned that lesson here.”

  “Really? I don’t know any of those rules. I’m much more of a...well...Applebee’s kind of girl.” I was embarrassed to admit it, but so what? Henry came to Applebee’s with me on the first date. He could have declined.

  “Same here. I’m a messy eater, and I feel like I should have napkins covering my whole body when I eat. I like places where they give you wet naps because they just know things are going to get messy. Or bibs. I’m a big fan of bibs.”

  My laugh was loud, maybe a little too loud for Bellini’s. Patrons at the other tables glanced our way as if I just stood on my chair and started performing the Macarena. “Whoops, my bad.” I blushed, wanting to crawl under the table.

  “Don’t even worry about it. I’ve done much worse here.”

  As we tucked into our dinners, Henry regaled me with stories of embarrassing his parents at fancy restaurants, sometimes on accident, sometimes on purpose just to get a rise out of them. I hung on to his every word, laughing louder and louder at each story. The night passed fast, too fast in my opinion. Before I knew it, our waiter was removing our plates (after we placed our napkins on them) and bringing the check.

  Henry settled the bill, then looked up at me. “Well, now what?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

  “Do you want to just go back to Wacker? Or is there anything else you’d like to do tonight?”

  “I–– I’m not sure, I guess. Did you have anything in mind?”

  “Well–– and tell me if I’m being totally out of line here–– but I don’t really want this to end just yet. I’m having too much fun.”

  Fun? With me? I wanted to die from happiness. “I don’t want it to end either,” I said softly, my eyes piercing straight into Henry’s. Damn, I was lucky.

  “Do you have to work tomorrow?”

  Instantly, my body grew tired. Just the mere mention of work and I felt exhausted and worried. “No, I don’t have to work. Hopefully I won’t get called in again either.”

  “Do you want to come back to my place? Maybe we can stop by and grab a movie to watch or something?”

  Going back to his place? On our second date? My toes tingled. Did I want to do that? Um, hell yes!

  “That sounds perfect. What are your roommates up to?”

  “Peter might be home, but both Max and Kyle were going to some Irving party tonight.” He named the other popular business college in the area. “And my guess is Peter is probably studying.”

  We stood up to leave, gathering out winter coats and slipping into them. “Hannah is probably doing the same thing back at our place. They are so meant for each other.”

  “Peter talks about her a lot. I think he really likes her.” Henry held open the restaurant door for me, doing the same when we reached his car. Such a gentleman. And score for Hannah! I couldn’t wait to tell her.

  “Does he? She told me she is going back to Truvista with him over Thanksgiving. Quite the step for them,” I said, turning on the button for my seat warmer. I really needed to get a car with that function.

  “Yeah, Peter mentioned that too. Your family is in Seattle, right? What do you do for the holidays?” Was he asking me if I wanted to go home with him, or just curious?

  “I always go to Seattle over Christmastime. My sister goes all out for the holiday. Usually for Thanksgiving I go to Okana with Lila. Her family is like a second family to me.”

  “Is that what you’re doing this year?”

  “That’s what I plan on. Hopefully my work schedule will work in my favor.”

  “That’s cool.” Henry was silent for a while, and I wondered again if he was going to invite me home. Should I invite him to Seattle for Christmas? That seemed way too forward. A second date to traveling by air to visit my family for a week? And with my sister’s five kids–– any guy would go running for the hills.

  Idle chitchat filled the car as we left Bellini’s and headed back in the direction of Henry’s house. We stopped at a Redbox on the way, picking out a Will Ferrell comedy that neither of us had seen. When we got back to his house, Peter was indeed at the table studying, textbooks and notebooks spread out on every available inch of surface. I could just picture Hannah beside him with her books and notes and highlighters, the two of them helping each other figure out problems they were stuck on and pausing between assignments for lingering kisses. It was so romantic! Nerdish, but still super romantic.

  “Hey. How’s the studying going, man?” Henry asked when we walked into the kitchen. I stood awkwardly between the kitchen and living room, not sure of my place.

  “Fine, fine.” Peter took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his fists. “About finished finally. Maybe I can actually watch football with you guys tomorrow for once. Hi, Alex. How are you?” he asked, bringing me into the conversation. I stepped into the kitchen with a bit more conf
idence.

  “Hi, Peter. I’m fine. Thanks.” I managed to spit out before clamming back up again.

  “What are you crazy kids up to tonight?” Peter asked, looking from me to Henry.

  “We just rented a movie. Going to watch it in the basement if you don’t mind,” Henry answered, opening the fridge. “Do you want a beer, Alex?”

  “Sure!” Beer might not top my favorites list, but I could still swig one down. And maybe it would help take the edge off. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was.

  “Fine by me. I’ll probably just finish up here and hit the sack,” Peter said, slipping his glasses back on. “My eyes are beginning to lose focus.”

  I wanted to bring up Hannah somehow, but couldn’t figure out a way to be casual about it so I just stayed silent. Henry grabbed us two beers, then opened up a cabinet drawer and pulled out some microwave popcorn, sticking it in the microwave after my enthusiastic nod. It was like a movie theater date, but at his house and with beer. Okay, so not really close to a movie theater date, but whatever.

  After saying good night to Peter, we traipsed down the stairs and headed to where the TV was. The basement looked a lot better than the last time I saw it–– the Halloween party–– and I said so to Henry.

  “That next day was hell to clean.” He laughed. “Peter actually offered to hire a cleaning service to come in, but I would have hated doing that to a stranger. Max actually clipped his nose shut with a chip clip to avoid the smell.”

  “Yikes. Remind me never to have parties then!”

  “Do you plan on moving off campus anytime soon?”

  I thought about it. “Not really, I guess. We never discuss it anyway. I think the five of us like being around each other, but I’m not sure a house could handle all of us under the same roof. Maybe after this year we’ll talk about it more. We’ll all be twenty-one–– finally might I add–– so probably better to get off campus.”

  “When’s your birthday?” Henry asked, flipping the television on and firing up the DVD player.

  “January twenty-third. Less than two months away now. I can’t wait to be able to go out with everyone. Hannah is the only other one that isn’t twenty-one, and I know the other girls like a few bars around here. I have a fake, but I hate using it. But then I feel bad when they stay in just for me.” I took a seat on the couch, after deliberating where to choose. The middle? Was that too forward? I finally sat on the right side, but closer to the middle than the edge.

  “I remember how that felt. My birthday is in April, so I was one of the last ones to become legal. It sucked. I had a fake too, my brother’s, and it was pretty decent. I still had to be careful though. Didn’t want to screw over myself and my brother just to go to a bar.”

  The DVD started, and Henry walked away from the area without a word. The lights dimmed, and he appeared again with a thick blue quilt in his arms. “It can get chilly down here. I thought this might be good to have.”

  He sat down on the couch, right next to me. With his hip touching my hip and his arm on my arm, I felt like I could faint. He smelled delectable, manly with a hint of Italian restaurant lingering on his clothes. The white button-down he was wearing made his blue eyes stand out even more, and the way he unbuttoned a few of the top buttons made him look casual yet sexy. I wondered briefly if I was going to be spending the night. My black leggings would be fine to sleep in, but Lila’s silky green top with pearl buttons might not be as comfortable. I would make that decision later.

  Henry flipped the tops on the beers and handed me one. He placed the popcorn bowl to his left, where there was room. We settled in as the movie began, sitting side by side and just barely touching. I relaxed into the sofa, pulling the quilt over my legs and feeling blissfully happy. As soon as that thought reached my thoughts, I banished it. No Blissful anything tonight. Tonight, I was simply there to enjoy myself.

  About twenty minutes and forty-seven laughs in, Henry shifted on the couch, leaning closer to me. His arm brushed mine, and then reached down and held my hand. Flutter butterflies, flutter. His fingers interlaced mine and gave them a squeeze. I dared to look over at him and when I did, he was staring back at me. “Is this okay?” he whispered, even though we were the only two down there.

  I nodded my head and gave him a smile, squeezing his hand back. I tried not to look too giddy at the mere fact of hand holding. What was I–– in sixth grade again? Our attention went back to the movie, with Henry’s thumb stroking my hand ever so slightly. My toes were tingling.

  About halfway through Henry let go of my hand, and the cold crept around my fingers that were used to his warm palm protecting them. It was crazy how that one gesture deflated me so much. “I have to go to the bathroom. Do you mind if I pause it?” he asked, remote in the hand that was just holding mine.

  “Yeah, that’s fine,” I answered, and he got up and I could hear his footsteps on the stairs. I pulled my phone out of my purse which was beside the couch, and hastily thumbed a text to Lila. Dinner=amazing. At Henry’s watching movie. Might stay???

  Her immediate reply: Holy shit girl. Stay stay!!! Naughty ;)

  We’re not being naughty. Holding hands. Will text later. Don’t wait up!

  NAUGHTY! From all of us. Good luck!

  Great, so she was with the girls. Who now probably all thought we were rounding third base. Hand holding did not equal naughty! And who would do that on a second date? Well, probably Carmen and Emma, but certainly not Hannah and probably not Lila. And not me. Definitely not me...but Henry was looking good. And was obviously sweet and charming and I thought he was into me. What would be the harm? Damn! Could he really be weakening my resolve? No funny business on the second date. Really, not even the third. Maybe the fourth. I had to stay strong.

  That resolve lasted until our first kiss. When Henry came back from the bathroom, we shifted positions on the couch. Instead of sitting up we laid down, Henry in back with one arm draped over me, hand once again holding mine. At some point during the movie, I felt the urge to turn my head and look at Henry. He was staring at me again, and then we were kissing. Who started it? I thought it was him, but I came to find out later that he swore it was me. It didn’t matter. What mattered was his lips were on mine and I was melting into his body. I’ve had first kisses with guys before, but none like the experience with Henry. I didn’t want to ever let up.

  The first was slow and sensual, where my brain was still trying to catch up with my body. The second was less timid, more tongue, and I felt a small moan escape my mouth. Embarrassing or hot, it was a toss-up. The third was powerful, where I grabbed the back of Henry’s head and brought him closer with urgency, and he grabbed my hips and pulled me into him. He was excited. And holy shit was I excited. And feeling naughty. All resolve of third and fourth dates went out the window. I wanted Henry Landon.

  The movie was long forgotten as we finally pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes, slightly out of breath. My bottom lip was sore from where he had bit down softly, which had only turned me on more. I struggled to sit up and Henry followed suit. I swung my legs around so I was straddling him and we were face to face. I grabbed his head again and pulled him towards me, lips on lips once again. He touched a palm to the top of my head, a gesture that cried out with intimacy and emotion. Goosebumps flew up around my arms, and the hair on the back of my neck prickled.

  Adrenaline and lust went surging through my body, and I boldly started to undo the buttons on my shirt. To my surprise Henry stopped me, placing his hands over mine and halting my motion.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, feeling stupid suddenly. He didn’t want me. Why didn’t he want me?

  “Maybe we should get back to the movie,” he said, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear.

  I tore my body off his, once again sitting up on the couch next to him. My thoughts were buzzing. I was just rejected. One hundred percent rejected. Who does that? What male species in his right mind rejects a clearly willing girl? I remembered Hann
ah talking about the Halloween party, where a girl had tried the “passing out” trick in Henry’s bed. He had turned her down. We all thought it was because of me, but now....

  “Do you want another beer?” Henry asked, breaking the awkward silence.

  “Um, no. I probably shouldn’t if I want to drive home,” I said, then realized I didn’t have my car with me. The only way home was through Henry. “Oh, shit. I guess that won’t work either, huh? I can just have Lila come pick me up.”

  “I can drive you home if you would like. Or you’re more than welcome to spend the night here,” Henry offered, looking once again like his sweet self, not someone who just flat out denied me. Now he wanted me to spend the night? My brain hurt trying to figure this guy out.

  “Ah, well, I’ll leave that up to you, I guess. I can just sleep on the couch or something and have Lila get me tomorrow. Those girls are probably all drinking anyway.” Except for Hannah, who I could have called, but I was curious about Henry even more now. How would the rest of our night go? Would we kiss again? Just be more awkward?

  “That’s fine. Unless you want me to drive you home, of course. I don’t have a problem with that.”

  “Okay, well, let’s just finish the movie for now. And I’ll take that second beer.” I smiled at him, trying to avoid the word “reject” that was flashing through my mind. I fished my phone out again and shot off a text to Lila the second Henry started up the stairs.

  Just got denied. By a boy. What is wrong w me? Be on standby to pick me up tmrw.

  WTF? I expect full details tmrw. Text me when ready. Ur beautiful. Love you.

  Love you lil :(

  Don’t be sad! He’s blind. Or maybe just a nice guy. I’ll buy u breakfst in the am.

  Okay. G2g talk tmrw.

  Henry and I didn’t talk much the rest of the movie. The awkward feeling was definitely there, and I didn’t know how to break it. Once the movie was finished, Henry stood up and stretched his arms over his head. At some point, he changed out of his khakis and collared shirt into basketball shorts and T-shirt. He looked even sexier dressed down.