by Hanna Ruthie
“Hey,” Thomas says. “Josie! Nice to see you again.”
“Yeah, you too,” I reply, swallowing nervously.
It takes me a moment to notice that the girl he’s with is looking at me intently. She’s beautiful too, but not like the other girl. She’s a little shorter with super curly dark brown hair and big brown eyes, but she’s still gorgeous.
“Hi,” I say, uncomfortable with the way she’s studying me.
Her eyes snap up to mine. “Hi,” she says, giving me a smile. “I’m Harper… I think we have a class together?“
So that’s why she was looking at me so strangely.
“I’m Josie,” I say, introducing myself.
She snaps her finger. “Yes! I knew I recognized you from somewhere. We have Oceanography together.”
I nod my head, a smile growing on my face at the familiarity of this girl. She does look familiar now. “You’re right! What do you think of Professor Kennis?”
“Oh I love him,” she responds, entertaining my small talk. “He’s almost as much of an ocean nerd as me.”
I laugh at that. “Me too.”
She intertwines her fingers through Thomas’ and it doesn’t go unnoticed by me. He looks happy with it though, shuffling his feet a little and leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. I stare long enough to start feeling awkward again. I need to make my exit, like now.
I clear my throat again. “I’m gonna-”
“Josie?” Another voice asks.
I freeze, cursing inwardly. Matthew comes around the corner, bags and boxes full of snacks and sweets in his hands. He must have been stuck at the concession stand. To my relief, he’s alone. No date in sight. My eyes find Chris’ again, and he’s watching me. Watching me, watching Matthew, he knows exactly what I felt.
“Hey,” I say awkwardly.
“What are you doing here?” Matthew asks.
Chris laughs. “What do you think she’s doing dumbass, she’s at the movie theater.”
Matthew glares at him and looks back towards me.
“I’m here for Fight Club,” I explain.
“Nice,” Matthew says. “I keep telling them it’s the superior cult classic but they don’t listen.”
I laugh lightly. Trying my best to be friendly and keep up with the small talk, I ask, “So, how’d the tournament end up?”
“We won the last two games,” Thomas responds.
“Oh that’s good!” I reply.
When a moment of silence comes over us, I grow painfully uncomfortable.
“Um, I don’t want to miss the previews,” I say awkwardly. I’m afraid it comes across as rude, but if it does, Chris quickly covers it up.
“You like the previews?” He asks.
I change my eye contact to him, thankful to be given the opportunity to look away from Matthew.
“Yeah,” I admit. “I like to see what else is coming out.”
“Me too,” Matthew’s voice says. It draws my eyes back over to him and I smile. After another moment, Harper speaks again, saving me.
“We should go,” she says.
I take a step back.
“Yeah, have fun on your… double date,” I say awkwardly. To be honest I don’t know what it is, but double date seemed the most appropriate. But then it hits me that Matthew’s still there. And he’s totally… fifth wheeling?
Chris’ date speaks up next to him. “Enjoy your movie,” she says.
“Thanks,” I reply. I’ve decided I like both of these girls. Harper smiles at me, waving so I can exit. I wave back lightly, not even looking in Matthew’s direction again. Then I push the door to the theater open. I freeze when I hear Matthew’s voice again.
“You guys go ahead,” he says. “I think I’m gonna watch this one instead.”
Turned away from him, I can let myself smile. I can let my stomach flip in excitement. I move away from the door, letting it close, not wanting to look like I’m waiting for him. I walk slowly, hoping that Matthew will catch up to me. I’m rewarded when I hear his footsteps jog up behind me.
“Hey,” he says, struggling to balance all his snacks.
I look over at him. “Um… hey.”
He looks over at me and shrugs. “I have no desire to sit in on a double date to Pulp Fiction when the singles party for Fight Club is right over here.”
I laugh, walking into the theater with him. It’s nearly empty, just a handful of people sitting already. I walk up the stairs, finding a seat above everyone else.
“First of all,” I say, sitting down. “Don’t hate on Pulp Fiction. It’s great. Tarantino is genius.”
“Finally,” Matthew mumbles, taking his seat next to me. “Something we can agree on.”
“Second,” I continue. “It may be the singles theater but as you can see, it is no party.”
I gesture to the theater of three middle aged men and one middle aged woman below us. Matthew chuckles.
“Point taken.”
We settle in, pulling down our armrests where we set our drinks and snacks. Once we’re settled, I look over at Matthew.
“Hey do you really like watching the previews?”
He nods. “Yup. Unless they go longer than twenty minutes. Then I just get annoyed.”
I nod my head in agreement. Matthew nudges my arm off the arm rest we both share in the middle.
“Hey,” I say. “My arm was here first.”
“You don’t need an arm rest. Your arms are tiny. I’m huge, I need to spread out a little.”
I roll my eyes, pushing his arm off the rest and replacing it with my own.
He squints at me. “Tell you what, I’ll let you have the arm rest if you share the popcorn.”
I look over at my tub of popcorn. There’s no way I’ll eat all of it on my own, but still.
“What, you don’t have enough over there? You practically bought out the entire concession stand.”
He looks over at his treats and snacks, piled on top of the chair next to him. “It’s my cheat day,” he says. “Plus, I’m a growing boy.”
With the word growing he pushes my arm off the rest with his own. I huff and pick up the tub of popcorn, handing it over to him. He takes a huge handful, shoveling it into his mouth. Only after he’s swallowed does he remove his arm. I set mine there, smiling. I like this little interaction.
“So what do you think about Harper?” I ask Matthew, curious. “She’s in one of my classes. I didn’t know her and Thomas were together.”
He groans, his head falling back against the seat. “Oh my God, not you too. Thomas is like a lovesick puppy, always talking about her. You don’t even know the half of it. She’s nice or whatever but I don’t want to hear about her anymore.”
I giggle. “What’s the problem? She seems like a nice girl.”
Matthew groans. “I’m just saying. At the apartment it’s Harper this, Harper that. At least Chris doesn’t blab nonstop about Ariana.”
“Ariana… is that Chris’ date?” I wonder.
Matthew nods.
“Yeah she seemed nice too. She’s gorgeous.”
Matthew nods again, opening up a box of M&Ms. It makes me a tad bit jealous to know he agrees with me about her beauty. But it also makes me wonder what he thinks of me.
“So where’s your date?” I ask, nudging him with my elbow.
He shrugs. “No date, just me.”
“No one to ask?” I press.
Matthew shakes his head. “It’s not that. There are plenty of girls I could ask. But I don’t really do the whole dating thing.”
I watch him for a moment, studying him as he munches on the little chocolate orbs.
“You’re telling me you’ve never had a girlfriend?”
Matthew laughs and looks over at me. “Do I strike you as the type of guy girls want to have a relationship with?”
“Sure,” I reply.
Matthew chews slowly and raises his eyebrows to me.
“Really Josie?”
“What?�
� I shrug. “You’re an attractive guy.”
Oh God. I did not just say that. Josie! You did not just say that!
“And don’t let that get to your head,” I add on, pointing my finger at him, trying to save myself.
Matthew smiles. “Too late,” he shrugs, looking away from me.
Finally, the screen turns on with the first trailer. I try to focus my attention on it, disregarding what I just said. I can feel Matthew’s arm brush against mine.
“Tell me Josie,” he whispers, his mouth inches away from my ear. “What is it exactly that you find so attractive about me?”
“Shut up,” I mumble.
Matthew laughs. “Come on Jos.”
Jos. He called me Jos. It’s a nickname. No one else in the world calls me that. Usually Josie is my nickname for Josephine. But Matthew, he just gave a nickname to my nickname. One of his own creation. One that just slips right off his tongue. His nickname, for me. My heart pounds against my rib cage.
“I thought you liked watching the trailers,” I respond.
He chuckles and turns his attention back to the screen. “You’re no fun.”
Thank God. Finally, with his attention turned away from me, I can breathe again. We get sucked into the trailers and soon after, the movie. But then the movie takes me on a roller-coaster ride of anxiety. The sex and nudity isn’t out of control, but it’s there. And the violence is worse. There’s so much! SO much! I’m cringing and gasping and trying to hide my eyes, all for a movie that I’ve seen more times than I can count. And I’m sitting right next to Matthew. He doesn’t seem to be affected by any of it, plowing through his snacks like a starved man. He doesn’t seem bothered by anything until the sex scene. It’s only a minute or so long and it’s not even all that graphic. But Matthew’s hand covers my eyes.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m protecting you,” he replies simply. “Eyes of innocence don’t need to see this.”
I push his hand away but he replaces it with his other one.
“Matthew-”
“Cover your ears, don’t listen.”
“Matt I’m twenty one for God’s sake!”
“Doesn’t matter, your mind is all rainbows and cotton candy. Don’t need this shit diluting it.”
“I’ve seen the movie like thirty times!”
“Well aren’t you a dirty girl,” he replies, keeping his hand over my eyes. My cheeks flush in embarrassment, knowing he’s messing with me.
I try to push his hand away again but he won’t budge.
“It’s for your own good,” he says.
“You’re watching it.”
“I’ve had sex like this plenty of times,” he replies simply.
“Matthew!”
This time I do cover my ears, not wanting to hear it now that it’s associated with him doing it. I can still hear him chuckling even through the covering of my palms. After a few more seconds, when the scene finishes, he takes his hands away.
“That was annoying,” I tell him, just in case he didn’t realize.
Matthew shrugs. We continue watching the movie until it gets to one of my least favorite scenes. One of the characters gets his hand burned and has to take it, writhing in pain.
“Oh I can’t watch this scene,” I say.
It still scares me, even now. I turn my head towards Matthew’s shoulder. Shamelessly, I hide from the screen, pressing my eyes against the cloth of his sweater.
“Tell me when it’s over,” I mumble against his arm.
His shoulder is like a little oasis. Dark and warm, and it smells like him. Clean with spices. My heart beats fast being this close to him. I’m able to drown out the noises on screen until Matthew’s voice says, “It’s over.”
I don’t remove my head all the way, first turning it to the side to peek at the screen. When I notice that the scene is indeed over, I lift my head, releasing a breath of relief. At some point during the movie, Matthew begins to take sips from my soda. I let him, not really bothered by it. It’s actually pretty cute, the thought of us here, watching a movie, sharing our food. It makes the butterflies in my stomach flap harder.
“Oh no,” Matthew says.
I turn to him. “What?”
“Oh I… I can’t watch this scene,” he says, imitating my voice about five octaves too high.
I roll my eyes at him and his dramatic recreation of what I sound like.
“Oh Lord,” he continues.
He pushes his head into my shoulder, shielding his eyes.
“Just tell me when it’s over.”
I scoff at him. He’s teasing. But it’s kinda fun. And that position where he is, I don’t mind it. In fact, I kind of really like it. I decide to play the game. If he wants to tease, I can play too.
“I don’t know, it’s a really long scene,” I say, cluing him in on what he’s getting into.
He’s going to have to stay right there until I give the all clear. For as long as I want. Unless he wants to quit right now?
“I just can’t bear this scene,” he says, imitating my voice again.
I snort a laugh, settling in. After a couple minutes, Matthew’s arm reaches across my lap. He’s going for the popcorn tub on the other side of me, but the action puts his body in a position where he’s kind of… hugging me. His head is still on my shoulder. He’s watching the screen again, apparently unable to resist the film. But he isn’t moving his head from where it’s lying on top of my shoulder, stubborn enough to want to win this tiny battle of wits. Now, his arm is stretching across my waist for every handful of popcorn, retreating to bring it to his mouth. Going out and coming back. And every time his arm brushes over my stomach, it ignites a fire of tingling nerves across my skin.
“Fine,” I say, unable to take it any longer. “Scene’s over.”
He stays put, munching on his- my popcorn.
“I don’t know Josie, I’m pretty comfortable. Might just have to stay here.”
Messing. Always messing. I groan.
“Come on; you win I lose, off now.”
He ignores me, staying right where he is. But when he reaches back across me for popcorn, I take the tub, holding it away from him.
“No more ‘till you get off.”
He frowns at me but lifts his head.
“Much better,” I say, handing him the entire tub.
He’s nearly at the bottom of it anyways and I’ve had my fill of popped corn for the night.
“When are you going to share the chocolate?” I ask, holding out my hand.
Matthew puts the tub on the ground, looking at what remains of his snacks. There’s still a couple boxes of candy left and a half eaten bag of gummy worms. He hands me an unopened box of peanut M&Ms and I smile.
“These are my favorite,” I whisper.
He looks over to me. “No they’re not.”
I pause, my features becoming confused.
“Uh yeah… they are.”
He shakes his head. “They can’t be your favorite, they’re my favorite.”
I laugh. “We have the same favorite candy, so what?”
And the same favorite cult classic. And we both like watching the previews.
I open the box of M&Ms, shaking out a few before handing the box back over to him. And then, something hits me.
“Wait, you gave me your favorites?” I ask. “That’s so sweet.”
“No it’s not,” Matthew replies, as if I’ve just insulted him.
“Oh my God, you were saving them weren’t you? You were saving them because they’re your favorites and then you gave them to me!”
The middle aged woman looks back and shh’s me fiercely. I hold up a hand in apology and sink down in my chair a little. I pop my favorite candies into my mouth and munch away, smiling at the taste, and more importantly, at Matthew.
“You need to find a new favorite,” Matthew grumbles. “I don’t want to share custody.”
“I shared my popcorn, and my drink.”
/>
He sighs. “Fine. You’ll get weekends.”
He hands me the box and I shake out a few more before handing it back to him. We sit in silence for the rest of the movie and Matthew shares the rest of his snacks with me. By the time the credits are rolling, I’ve got a sugar high, a full stomach, and a smile pulling at my lips. This has been so so much fun. Matthew and I walk out of the theater, dumping all our trash at the entrance.
“It is a strange ending, don’t you think?” Matthew asks about the movie.
I nod. “Yeah, it’s strange but… I kinda like it. It has that cult classic charm you know?”
“And, what’s your opinion of the fight club?” He asks.
I think about it for a moment. “I guess I just find it sad. All these guys just want to belong to something. They just want to feel something, you know?”
Matthew nods, sliding his hands into his pockets. I look across the way at Pulp Fiction. Their movie’s a good thirty minutes longer than ours but it started earlier too.
“I understand it though,” Matthew says. “There’s an adrenaline that comes from fighting like that. You want to win.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“I am,” he replies simply.
“So you… you’ve been in fights before?” I ask.
Matthew looks over at me and smiles. “Sure, plenty. Every Wednesday at the library with you.”
I laugh and nudge him. “You know what I mean.”
He nods a bit more solemnly. “Yeah, I’ve been in a lot of fights.” Then he looks up at me, his eyes searching mine. “Does that scare you?”
“Should it?”
He looks down, not answering my question.
“Have you ever hurt anyone? Like really badly?”
Matthew nods. “I’ve broken a couple noses. Probably the worst was when I broke some guy’s rib.”
I gasp lightly. “What did he do?” I ask.
Matthew looks over at me, his head tilting to the side. “Why do you assume he did something?”
“Well I hope he did something and you didn’t just break this guy’s rib for the heck of it,” I reply.
He chuckles. “He was a pompous ass. He was picking on some homeless guy who was deaf. Wouldn’t leave him alone. He was totally asking for it.”
I nod my head slowly. It’s kind of ironic that Fight Club is one of my favorites considering some of the bad memories it brings up. Fighting… being hit. I’ve been hit before. I shiver from the thought, crossing my arms over my chest.