by Anthology
“How often do you find a plate that’s the perfect fit for asparagus?” I chimed in with a smile.
“Hardly ever,” the woman said in a cheerful tone. “And that’s why we’ll take it.”
When they left, I turned to Kat. “We’re like a tag team.”
“We absolutely are if you can keep doling out those vegetable serving tips,” she teased.
When Nate arrived for the afternoon shift, Kat gave him a rundown of the morning business and crowd. “That all sounds great. Mom and dad will be happy. What are you guys going to do now?”
“I think I might go see a movie,” Kat said. “I know, big shock.”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course. Movie junkie here. Are you going to go to the movies too?” Nate asked me, and I knew he wasn’t giving me permission to take out his sister. It wasn’t as if I’d said, “Nate, I’m totally falling for Kat and I want to know if it’s okay if we sit in a darkened theater for two hours,” but it was as close as I was going to get to some kind of tacit yes. Eventually, I’d say something, I told myself. Just not yet. There wasn’t anything to tell him anyway. Once there was something to say, I’d say it. For now, we were two friends going to the movies. Nothing more.
At the local cinema, we perused the list of movies and both picked a Will Ferrell comedy, then she turned to me. “I’m going to be totally honest here. I kind of have a thing for silly humor. Stupid humor. All that stuff. I know it probably doesn’t go with the whole I-want-to-go-to-Paris and be inspired by the designs, but sue me. I think Will Ferrell is a comedic genius.”
Straight shot to my heart.
“Kat, I don’t know how to tell you this,” I said in a mock serious tone. “So I guess I’m just going to be blunt. Will Ferrell is a comedic genius, and the fact that you have recognized this cosmic truth means the kettle corn is on me too.”
Her lips curved up and I was pretty sure she could get me to do anything with her smile.
“Lucky me,” she said.
“No,” I corrected, feeling bold as we were surrounded by the smell of fake butter and the snapping of kernels. “Lucky me.”
When the lights went down in the theater, we shared the popcorn, and yes, there were a few moments when my fingers brushed hers and vice versa. Those moments were enough to make me entirely forget the scenes unfolding on the screen because all I was thinking about was how my blood was racing faster, and my skin was heating up from a sliver of a touch.
By the time we left the cinema, the movie was swiss cheese to me. Full of so many holes, that I was faking my way through our post-mortem discussion. I remembered bits and pieces of it; the film was a goddamn slapstick comedy, not a twist turny thriller, but still. My memory of it was comprised of a few good chuckles, and the moments when I wanted to hold her hand to know if this was or wasn’t a one-way street. I craved the feel of her fingers sliding through mine, simply because it would be a confirmation that this wasn’t all in my head, that I wasn’t imagining there was something more to the way she seemed to flirt back and to sneak in little glances now and then. All the reasons why I wasn’t supposed to fall for her were gone.
At some point that afternoon, I stopped thinking about Nate. Sure, in the back of mind there was that little nagging ball of guilt, a reminder that I’d need to man up and tell my friend I was having very unfriendly feelings toward his sister. But I found it far too easy to ignore that worry because so very much of my brain was occupied with thoughts of Kat, what she liked, how well we got along, how she laughed at my jokes, how she teased me right back, and how I was going to have to find ways to spend more time with her.
I’d become that guy falling hard for a girl.
That’s who I was that week, counting down the hours each day until our shared morning shift ended, and we went to the theater. It was our routine, our habit, right down to the popcorn, and the seats in the second row from the back. We worked our way through the marquee, seeing a thriller the next day, then catching a sci-fi picture, and after that we saw a movie with talking animals in it, starring a chipmunk as the lead character.
Kat laughed the whole time, and so did I. The fact that this girl had such a wild sense of humor was another chink in my armor.
When the final credits rolled, she stroked her chin and spoke in a deeper voice, adopting the persona of a pretentious movie critic doing a review show. “You know, Bob, this has shades of that talking raccoon movie that audiences fell in love with years ago. Do you recall John The Chattering Raccoon? It had similar themes, wouldn’t you say?”
I nodded as if she were intensely seriously. “Absolutely, Sally. Though I do have to say I feel John brought a bit more pathos to the lead role than the chipmunk did in this picture. A touch more empathy, do you think?”
She pretended to consider my question, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling, then returning her focus to me. “Might that have been because John had such a nice mask around his eyes?
Then she cracked up, a deep belly laugh where she placed her hands on her stomach, and I couldn’t help myself. It was too fun to be with her. “You can’t deny the makeup people in John the Chattering Racoon did an excellent job,” I said because I wanted another laugh, and I got one.
We returned to our normal voices as we stood up and made our way out of the theater. “You’ve pretty much seen every movie, haven’t you?” I asked.
“I’ve seen a lot of movies.”
“Why? I mean, besides the obvious. That movies are fun. Why are you such a fan of movies? Don’t get me wrong. I love them too. But your love is intense.”
“Isn’t that a good enough reason? Just for entertainment?”
“Totally. So that’s the reason?”
“Sure,” she said with a little shrug that seemed to suggest there was more to it.
“All right, Kat Harper. What’s the story?” I asked as we walked down the street, the afternoon sun warming us. I wanted to know everything about her. I wanted to understand her. “Tell me where your love of movies comes from. I mean, where does it truly come from?”
She took a deep breath. “I do love movies for pure entertainment value. But I also love them because they kind of represent family to me, if you know what I mean?”
“Tell me. Why do they represent family to you?”
“All these big events in my life were marked by movies,” she said, as we walked past a local art gallery where a guy had set up an easel outside and was painting a vast open sky. “When Nate was in eighth grade and won the election for class president,” she began, and my gut twisted the slightest bit from the mention of her brother, but I pushed the feeling aside to listen to her story. “We all went to see the re-release of Raiders of the Lost Ark, because it was this great action adventure, and I gripped the armrest when Harrison Ford raced against the boulder. The time I was picked to design the cover of the junior high yearbook we went to see Ocean’s Eleven. That’s just how we celebrated things. I even remember when my grandmother died. We went to the memorial service. I was twelve and I read a poem at the service, and then we decided that we should see Elf. Which probably sounds like a weird thing to do after a funeral,” she said, lowering her voice a bit as if that was hard to say.
I reached for her arm, resting my hand against it briefly before I pulled away. “No, it doesn’t. Not at all.”
“It was really the perfect movie to see, because I think we all just needed to not be sad every second, you know?”
“It actually makes perfect sense,” I said, and she stopped walking and looked me in the eyes. This time, there was no flirting, no wink and a nod. Just a truly earnest and caring look in her deep brown eyes, as if she were grateful that I’d understood her.
“But I guess it all started with my mom. She’s a huge romantic comedy fan, so she started showing me all the great ones. Sleepless in Seattle. Love, Actually. Notting Hill. You’ve Got Mail,” she said and we resumed our pace. I wasn’t even sure where we were headed – to her house, to the beach, down
the street. But I didn’t care. I was with her, and I didn’t want the afternoon to end.
“And do you still love romantic comedies?”
“I make jewelry. I drink caramel machiattos. I wear Hello Kitty to bed. Of course I love romantic comedies,” she said, and the second she spoke those last few words, I knew I had to seize the moment. To somehow turn these afternoons at the theater into the possibility of a real date. I’d deal with the barriers. I’d find a way to tell her brother. I knew I was treading in dangerous waters, but I was too far gone to swim back to shore.
I cleared my throat. “I think there’s a romantic-comedy we haven’t seen at the theater. Do you want to go again tomorrow?”
“I have to take care of some things for school in the morning, so I won’t be working. Can you do the store solo and I can meet you at the theater?”
“I would love that.”
“Me too.”
CHAPTER FOUR
I couldn’t sleep that night. I lay awake staring at the ceiling. The door was shut to the guest room I was staying in, and I was literally practicing the words out loud.
“Hey, Nate. So, buddy, listen. I kind of have a thing for your sister.”
Then I’d try to imagine his response, but I came up short. Sure, there was part of me that feared the worst, the No Way in Hell answer. I had to be upfront though and tell him. Besides, he was my closest friend. I wasn’t some jerk asking to date her. I was the guy he’d roomed with. But I couldn’t be in the same house with him, call him a friend, and willingly head into the cinema with his sister tomorrow knowing I wasn’t taking her as Nate’s sister. I was taking her as the woman I wanted to date.
I breathed in deeply, picturing the air filling my lungs, giving me the confidence I needed to do the right thing
When Nate burst into the store the next day for the afternoon shift, I was ready. He was grinning from ear to ear, holding up his hands in victory.
“What is it?”
“I got the final interview!” He punched the air.
“That’s awesome, dude. I’m psyched for you.” I clapped him on the back. “When is it?”
“In two weeks. At the advertising technology firm I’ve been talking to.”
“You’re gonna nail it. I can feel it,” I said, tapping my chest.
“I better. I do not want to be one of those jobless MBAers.”
“You’re not. You’ll be a working stiff like me any day now.”
He walked behind the counter to get ready to take over for the afternoon. I gulped. This was the moment. I needed to tell him now. “So I’m heading out to – ”
“–How was business today? Everything go okay?” he asked, cutting me off from saying the movies. Then he held up a hand and shook his head. “Wait. Don’t tell me. If it was bad I don’t want to know. Actually, just tell me everything was great because that’s all I want to hear for the next two weeks. No bad news. I only want good, happy news that’ll keep me in a good, happy mood til I nail this job. Okay?”
“Um, sure,” I said tentatively.
“That means whenever I come in and ask how business was, all I want to hear is the word great.”
“Okay,” I said with a laugh. “It was great.”
“Nothing to bring me down. Got that?”
The weight in my stomach both lifted and grew heavier. I wanted to tell him. I should have told him. But he needed not to know. I didn’t want to be the reason he didn’t get the job he wanted.
Besides, Kat and I were grown-ups. We could handle going to the movies.
* * *
Kat
Kiss Her Now.
I wanted to shout it at the screen. Instead, I said it under my breath as the scene played out in the film. After a missed email, and a missed text, and a missed phone call, the hero and heroine were still on unsure footing. I was damn near ready to walk up to screen, grab the back of his head, and the back of her head and press their lips together.
Except for the little bitty fact that they were only two-dimensional actors on a screen. But I needed them to kiss so badly. I practically wanted to chant it. I could feel their need for a kiss deep in my bones, and all throughout my body.
At last, the hero pushed the button on the elevator, rode up to her floor, marched down the hall, took that deep breath, and knocked hard on the door. When she opened it, her eyes lit up. At last, he’d come to tell her how he felt.
“I’m so crazy for you, and if I don’t kiss you now I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life,” he said.
“I don’t believe in regret. I believe in kisses,” she said and the moment their lips made contact, champagne tingles raced through my body, from my cheeks, down to my chest and all the way to my toes, making me feel bubbly and buzzy. My stomach flipped, and my skin felt hot. I stole a glance at Bryan, wishing for what they were having on the screen. Wishing for it with him. He was already looking at me and his eyes were searching mine, as if he was checking to see if I was having the same reaction.
“Hi,” he whispered in that low and husky voice he used sometimes just with me.
“Hi.”
We weren’t alone, but the theater wasn’t crowded. The nearest patrons were many rows ahead, and that made me feel as if we were all alone in the back. But honestly, even if we’d been surrounded by crowds, I wouldn’t have waited. I couldn’t wait. I wanted so badly to be kissed by him.
He reached his hand toward me first, and I watched the whole time as if it were happening in slow motion as his fingers slid through mine. My shoulders rose and fell as he made contact, and there it was. The moment that we became more than friends. He kept his eyes on me, and at some point I nodded, as if I were telling him I wanted more, that he had all the permission he’d ever need to do what the hero had done to the heroine on screen. Kiss her deeply and passionately.
With his other hand, he laced his fingers through my dark hair, and I gasped lightly at the feel of his touch. So soft, so warm. So inviting. Then he dropped his mouth to me, his lips brushing gently across mine, and I wanted nothing more than for this kiss to last for the longest time. It was my movie kiss, it was the heroine falling into the hero’s arms, it was the world around me ceasing to exist, and all that mattered was this softness, this sweetness, the feel of his lips and his tongue dancing with mine.
I knew then, without a shadow of a doubt, that not only had I never been kissed like this, but that I never would be kissed like this by anyone else. This was the benchmark, the gold standard. Nothing would ever compare.
Maybe that’s a crazy thing to think after one kiss from one guy. Or maybe the heart knows best, and my heart and my body wanted him. We had that kind of synch, that kind of connection, as if were meant to kiss each other.
Always.
We couldn’t stop. We kissed all through the final scene, and on through the credits, and during that awkward moment when everyone else shuffled past us. Finally, when the lights rose, he pulled apart.
“Wow,” he said, breathing hard.
“Wow indeed.”
He brushed a strand of hair from my cheek, then rested his forehead against mine. He gripped my hand tighter, as if he were making a very important point. “Kat, I’ve wanted to do that since I first met you in the driveway the other day.”
“You have?” I asked, and butterflies took flight inside me. Sure, he’d just kissed me like I was his air, but still you want to hear it. I wanted to hear everything from him. I’d fallen so far for him, and I needed him to be there to catch me.
“Yes. You were so pretty, and then you were everything else. I have loved spending time with you. I have loved going to the movies with you and working together in the store and talking about Paris, and everything else.”
My heart soared. “I thought you were pretty hot too when I met you. And I’ve loved all those things too.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “You thought I was hot?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sitting here in the movie theater ma
king out with you. This is a surprise that I thought you were hot?”
“What can I say? I like hearing it from a beautiful woman,” he said.
I blushed, and he ran his thumb over my cheek. “That’s adorable that you blushed.”
“Stop,” I said playfully, and he silenced my protest with a quick kiss. This one didn’t last more than five seconds but it felt like the promise of so much more. More kisses, more moments, more than this one.
“But listen, Kat,” he started and I froze, my eyes going wide with fear because sentences that start with but listen don’t end well. “Hey, it’s okay. I was just going to say I don’t think we should mention this to Nate. He’s so focused on the job interview right now, and this would only worry him, and I don’t want to do that.”
“I can keep secrets,” I said, and this felt like exactly the kind of secret I’d like keeping. One that made me feel special, and beautiful, and wanted by this gorgeous man who’d strolled into my life unexpectedly. I never imagined I’d have fallen for my brother’s best friend, but there it was, happening and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it.
* * *
Bryan
The waves lapped the shore with that calming rhythm of the ocean’s nighttime low tide – a slow sort of whoosh, then the moon pulled the water back out to sea. It was the perfect soundtrack for midnight kissing, and I swear I couldn’t get enough of her.
Maybe it’s because I knew I wouldn’t go any further. Kisses were all I’d allow at this point. Not that I didn’t want to do everything with her because I did. Every. Single. Thing.
But if anything more were to happen between us, things would need to be on the up and up. I didn’t want to be sneaking around. I wanted her to be mine officially. For now though, I was more than thrilled to have her stretched out next to me on a blanket on the sand, and I was glad Nate was busy most evenings, from job prep to the occasional date with a woman who worked at the cafe next to the store. I pulled Kat to me, kissing her harder and deeper, and she responded by roping her arms around my neck and wriggling her sexy little body closer.