by Sarah Tork
Then the worst scene imaginable happened.
Why? Why’d I pick this movie?
I fidgeted in my seat, sliding further down. My hand had a new home next to my eyes, saving me from experiencing the horrific deaths of the next few scenes.
I looked away from the screen and picked my popcorn bucket off the ground. James had been drinking a bottle of water gradually since the movie started. He was fine. He didn’t jump or slide down into his seat or cover his eyes. Not once.
He’s got courage. His eyes never close, even when it gets gory. I’m so jealous!
I peered into my bucket of popcorn; I had a lot left. I contemplated sharing with James so it wouldn’t go to waste.
It would be rude not to offer any.
“Want some?” I whispered, leaning the bucket towards him. I was instantly assaulted by his signature scent of shampoo and cologne.
Smells so good!
He leaned in and grabbed a few.
“Thanks.”
He never took his eyes off the screen. I turned my head back to the movie just in time to see a car pinning a girl to the wall by her neck.
“Oh God!” I whispered involuntarily, covering my eyes as fast as humanly possible. I didn’t want to see this play out to its inevitable end.
A warm hand closed over mine then tried to pull my hand from my eyes.
“Fireball, it’s over.” His whisper sent shivers down my spine.
“Are you sure?” I asked, worriedly.
“Yes, don’t worry, it’s over.”
I allowed my hand to be pulled from my face. He didn’t let go. I stared at our clasped hands, unsure what I should do. Do I let go or play dumb and continue to joyously hold onto his large hand?
I’ll take option two, please!
Chapter 7
I was a fool.
And a fraud.
The mirror of truth would have reflected back the image of a little girl so delusional she’d believe shit didn’t actually stink. The tight grip of his rough, callused hand over mine sent my brain into overdrive. I was no longer on Earth as my brain pulled its entire offensive line from the game and instead put them hard at work analyzing this thing that was happening between him and I.
What movie were we watching again…?
Thank God theatres weren’t equipped with special lighting that illuminated bodily fluids. A warm layer of sweat formed between our hands, increasing by the second. My heart was pounding erratically, the handholding was too much for it to handle, or comprehend. Unlike my body. My body knew exactly what it wanted when his skin touched mine: to tell my brain to fuck off and just go with it.
The movie theatre’s air conditioning enveloped me. I shivered and my body covered itself in goose bumps. I didn’t realize I had been that hot but my nervous excitement had me sweating profusely, and the A/C was cooling me down far too much. I was glad I had my black cardigan on, covering the now wet green t-shirt I chose to wear this morning. I grabbed the ends of my cardigan with my free hand and tugged them closer to one another. As I did so, I felt my held hand get jerked off the armrest. He was pulling my hand closer to his body! I suddenly felt warm again; the A/C no longer stood a chance against James and his new play. I subtly glanced at our joined hands, then to his face. He was staring fixedly at the screen, oblivious of anything monumental going on between us.
But it was monumental! For me.
I was sweating like a whore in church. This was the closest thing to ‘naughty’ I had ever experienced; yet he just sat there, engrossed in the film, as if this handholding was no big deal. It didn’t affect him at all. That bothered me.
Was he some sort of experienced Casanova? Was this an everyday thing for him, charming girls and holding their hands? Was I, simply, the lucky girl of the week?
I tried to pull my hand from his but I felt his grip tighten, not letting me go, not even a little bit. I pulled again and he gripped my hand even tighter. I stalled in my next attempt. If I tried again his grip would be so tight it would begin to hurt.
I leaned towards him and whispered, “Let go of my hand!”
His gaze didn’t leave the screen as he answered. “Nope, I’m good.”
“You’re good? What about me? I’m not!” I hissed at him.
“Shush!”
My eyes widened. Did this guy just shush me?
“I’m trying to watch the movie,” James continued in a whisper, eyes still glued to the screen. He probably couldn’t even look me in the eye because he felt like a fool, acting like a big idiot.
“You did not just shush me,” I growled, offended. I decided to take my chances and tug my arm back; maybe he was even more engrossed in the movie now – I hadn’t been watching it for the last several minutes, but every so often I heard a scream, a crash, and a body part getting sliced off – there couldn’t be that many people left to die.
“Ow!” I yelped as he tightened his grip yet again over my poor, sweaty hand. “You’re hurting me!”
“You’re in pain?” he asked softly, continuing to watch the movie play out.
“Yes,” I declared, “my hand’s hurting.” I gently moved my fingers in his grasp.
He turned to look at me. “I’ll make it better.”
I was unconvinced. “Yeah, how are you gonna do that?”
A final scream blasted from the speakers and the screen went black as the credits rolled up.
“Like this,” James informed softly.
“Like…?”
He raised our hands and shifted his grip, holding on to my wrist now. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. I stared at him, dumbfounded, while his lips lay for eons on my skin.
I wasn’t sure what to do.
Total system crash.
What’s my name again? Where am I?
I couldn’t think of anything. The system responsible for all information had shut down. The only thing I knew was that his lips were really soft and felt so good. Sweaty tremors rolled along my body. I did my best hide the affect his lips had on me, so I stiffened and sat up straight.
“Better?” he murmured against my skin, his warm breath caressing me.
Thank God for touching… I’ve never felt like this before…
My eyelids drooped low as his warm breath lingered on my skin. My body shivered in reaction and I struggled to exhale.
Just breathe.
His lips parted from my hand, just an inch but it was enough for me to snap back into reality. My eyes jerked wide open.
Do I feel better? Honestly?
My hand felt nothing but pleasure now. If it hurt, it was a good hurt, one I’d welcome again if James always responded like that.
“Better?” I muttered slowly. My mushy brain only had the repeat function on.
“Yeah baby, better?” His tone gripped the marrow of my bones. His hold around my wrist tightened as if he didn’t want to let go, or he worried I had some intention of letting go.
Not in this lifetime and, Jesus, he called me baby, again!
The lights came back on, his green eyes pierced, shining bright under the harsh lights of the empty theatre.
Holy shit, we’re alone! I stared down at the empty seats, then slowly turned back towards him. His hand tightened over mine letting me know, yet again, he had no intention of letting go anytime soon.
“What are you playing at?” I stared at our clasped hands in despair; it didn’t make sense that he’d want to touch me like this.
What does he really want from me? My mind flitted back to our earlier meeting in the hallway at school. Doing it?
I felt a small shiver glide along my back at the thought of the two us doing anything more than just holding hands. I was practically falling off a cliff as it was. If we kissed, I’d faint. Anything else…Doing it! I’d just die.
“Don’t over think this,” James told me quietly, his voice sounding vaguely amused.
How can I not over think this!
I was stuck in an analytical nightma
re. The line was drawn in the sand. I needed to choose right here, right now, which side I wanted to stand on. To go with it or return to acting like an offended bitch to him.
Damn it!
It feels too good!
My body tried to convince my brain, supplying the majority of the evidentiary support it needed to proceed on this ‘just go with it’ path.
The credits finished and the screen turned off. James got up from his seat and pulled me with him. Still at the mercy of his tight grip, I trailed behind, practically jogging to keep up with his long strides out of the theatre.
Damn his legs are long…Wrapped around me and…STOP!
“Where are we going?” I asked breathlessly. I tried to shake off the almost dirty thought as he led us outside.
“I’m taking you home,” James stated, not even bothering to look behind at me.
“You are?” I practically squealed.
“Yes. Now, which way do you live?” He came to a halt on the sidewalk in front of the cinema complex.
Maybe I don’t want you to take me home! I should have spoken my mind, but I caved instead.
“Umm left.” Even to myself, I sounded bewildered.
He pulled me to the left but we didn’t head out of the plaza, instead we went to the parking lot. With his free hand he pressed the button on the car key remote. A few feet away, the lights of a large, black SUV blinked red.
I stared in amazement. Wow…strange that I dreamt this was his car…
“That’s your car?”
“Yes,” James answered curtly.
I felt my body cool in response to his tone. Some courtesy would have been nice, maybe more than one word snapped out in annoyance.
Yes. Now. Move. You woman, me man. What is his problem? I fumed. Asshole was beginning to trump cute again.
What am I, a little wheelbarrow he thinks he can drag anywhere he wants?!
I tried to tug my hand back, but his grip remained tight. He stopped suddenly, a few feet away from his car, and I skidded to halt, slamming into his chest as he turned around.
“Stop trying to pull away!” He tilted his head down to order me; I was plastered against him. The warm Florida wind breezed around us; it played with his slicked back hair, throwing it over his forehead.
There’s the James I know. A soft giggle escaped me as I watched his hair dance. His green eyes softened at my sound. I took his relaxed expression as my chance to escape his grasp. I stepped back, off his chest, and tried to pull my clasped hand away but his hand instinctively tightened as his arm tried to pull me back in to his orbit.
“What?” James asked lightly, oblivious to my struggle to be free of his hold.
“You might need that other hand to fix that wild hair of yours,” I suggested before grinning in disbelief at his persistence to keep my hand.
A sly grin stretched slowly across his face.
Oh God! Now what?
“Don’t worry about it. I’m good with either my left or right hand…it’s always good.” He smoothed his hair away for his face with his other hand as he made his explanation.
It took me a second…
What? I gazed down his arm to our clasped hands. Left hand or right hand, it doesn’t matter– Oh God! I got it.
“You let go of my hand right now!” I demanded, horrified at what he was insinuating. I jerked my hand back as if he was a flesh-eating zombie, but he never let go, just pulled me closer to his body.
Jesus, I might as well have signed a year’s lease with the way he’s keeping a hold of me. This is ridiculous!
“Let go!” I demanded, lowering my voice as I noticed my face was mere inches away from his.
This is not good!
How was this happening? I was a strong girl, why couldn’t I pull away from him?
I know why! I know why! The voice me my mind called out, raising her hand enthusiastically. My brain pointed to her for the answer. You don’t really want to let go, you like his skin on yours, it makes you feel too good. She sat back down and grinned slyly, knowingly.
James dragged me to the passenger side of the car, opened the door and guided me in with his hand on the small of my back. Every vein in my entire body felt a surge of electricity course through it. That small touch ignited powerful feelings that were as foreign to my body as low-fat tofu was.
Why am I thinking about tofu? I asked myself as I fumbled with the seat belt. It finally clicked in just before James made it to his door. My eyes took the moment to focus on my jellyroll peaking out over my jeans. I quickly sucked it in as his door opened.
Just don’t breathe! I ordered myself. I smiled politely as he got in, buckled up, and started the car.
“What’s your address?” He started playing with the buttons on his GPS before I uttered a word.
“7890 Terrace Lane Drive,” I answered neutrally. But on the inside I was so happy my calm tone hadn’t betrayed my excitement. Now if I could only keep it up until I got home. I tugged the ends of my cardigan together so I could exhale and let my gut stay comfortably hidden behind the shield of the cardigan. I let go of the breath I was holding and felt my stomach fall off the edge of my jeans. A sly glance down proved the cardigan successfully hid the bulge. The fabric lay nicely over my jeans, hiding all my imperfections.
I breathed a small sigh of relief.
You see, it’s okay. Just act calm. Be cool. All will be okay. I needed the reassurance.
He smiled as he punched in the address.
Uh oh, that smile! What is he up to?
“What?” I asked him. I wanted to know what he was thinking about now because I’d begun to notice a pattern with him: whenever he remained quiet but smiled for no reason, it wasn’t for no reason.
“You don’t live too far from me,” James answered, sounding satisfied.
I wasn’t wrong about the pattern; his mind was definitely somewhere naughty.
“So?” What was his point? I wanted him to say aloud whatever it was he was thinking. I wanted to fight with him about it.
“It’s just something to think about…” His voice rang with possibility.
“Actually, it’s nothing to think about, so don’t get any ideas,” I replied, folding my arms across my chest. I meant business now.
“Don’t worry, I won’t be sneaking through your window anytime soon.” His grin spread across his face. He stopped at an intersection and turned to me.
Anytime soon?!
I needed to put a stop to him. He was going way overboard with the dirty talk, or whatever it was. The only thing I knew was that I was uncomfortable as hell with the idea of him sneaking through my window.
“Dude, even if you wanted to you couldn’t,” I answered. “My room’s on the second floor, so it might be a little difficult for you seeing as there’s no tree to climb.” I turned to the window. Neutral tone: check.
“So your room’s up top, good to know.” He rejoiced at figuring out another clue.
What! I spun around to face him, my eyes wide, mouth open.
“It doesn’t matter,” I snapped, “even if you could fly, you’re not invited anyways.” Neutral tone: uncheck. It was beyond my realm of expression at the moment.
So there!
“Not invited yet,” he responded matter-of-factly. The light turned green and he made a left.
“Whatever,” I sighed breathlessly, feeling my energy beginning to dwindle. I wasn’t going to fight him on this because he wasn’t going to get anywhere near my room anyway.
He followed the speed limit and at the rate we were going I’d be home in less than ten minutes. I watched the setting sun through the window, in a few more minutes it would be gone completely and I’d be stuck in a car with James. Alone. In the dark.
Breathe! I urged myself.
Change the subject. Maybe I should bring up something he likes? I pondered, stealing a peek at him from the corner of my eye. Perhaps if I brought up a neutral, light, fun topic I could see a different side of him, someo
ne besides the boy who loved to bring up dirty innuendos every chance he could.
Baseball!
“So… How was baseball training?”
He took his eyes off the road for a second to grace me with a glance, smiling.
“It’s going pretty good. I’ll probably be batting in the first game.” His eyes returned to the road but his voice sounded happy.
Baseball makes him happy. Noted!
“That’s cool.”
“Yeah, I’m the newbie. But Coach thinks I’m the shit. Not that I blame him, I’m pretty amazing.”
Obviously not humble.
“Well, congratulations.” I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t want to rain on his parade even though the way he kissed his own ass made me want to shut him down, Annabelle-style.
But I didn’t.
“Don’t congratulate me now. Do it after I win the first game by slamming an awesome home run.”
“You ever hear the phrase ‘there’s no ‘I’ in the team’?” I asked in awe of his idea of his own self-worth. He obviously thought he was some sort of superstar.
Definitely not humble.
“Besides, I don’t do sporting events,” I added.
His eyes shot back and forth between the road and me, narrowing in his confusion.
“That’s a crock of shit. You went to that mock swim meet today.” He sounded like a lawyer catching the star witness in a lie.
I’ve wounded him.
“Jenna’s my best friend; she’s earned that privilege,” I explained, like the rules of my world were written and sealed, no room for any provisions.
“Yeah, and what do I have to do to earn that privilege? Become your boyfriend?” James shook his head and laughed.
The sound of his wild laughter crushed my heart. Humiliation didn’t begin to describe it. Annihilated, that’s how I felt. I wanted to crawl underneath a rock and stay there forever. At least the car was dark so he couldn’t see the crimson heating my face.
Why is he laughing? Am I that bad? Is the idea of being my boyfriend that horrible?
Whatever was left of my heart began to pound painfully against my chest. The harsh reality was setting in. Who was I kidding, holding on to some miracle that maybe he’d actually like me. He probably held my hand and gave me a ride home out of pity. I wasn’t what someone like him would go for and if he ever did it was probably for something quick and easy.