“This is off to a great start,” Ethan teases as he pulls into a parking lot. We’re uptown, at a restaurant with a faux-Tuscan look. I dimly remember it. “You’re choking, and we haven’t even started to eat yet.”
I wheeze, “Shut up.”
“Tell you what, I’ll do the talking until we get some water. Deal?”
“Deal,” I rasp, shaking hands with him.
Minutes later, we’re settled nicely in a booth, and thankfully, complementary water is poured for us immediately. I down it in seconds.
“Feeling better?” he asks, amused.
I give him a thumbs-up. “I’ve never eaten here before,” I say, opening my menu.
“Really?”
“Yeah. It was always a little out of my league when I was a kid. And I just haven’t eaten out much since moving back.” I pause, looking up at him. “It’s a little pricey here.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
His eyes are on his menu.
“Ethan. It’s expensive.” I’m not sure how to do this subtly. Can I even be subtle?
To my surprise, he scowls at me. “I’m not completely destitute. I can take care of your meal.”
“Wait, you’re paying for mine too?” I’d suspected he was considering it, but I figured we could just split it. “I can pay for my own.”
“It’s a date,” he argues. “You don’t have to pay for it. You aren’t paying for it.”
“It’s the twenty-first century, you know.”
“I know that. But I want to get this right. I’ve never gone out with someone before, and I want it to be perfect.”
“Well, if you’re expecting perfection, that never happens on dates,” I snort. Especially on a date with me. “Is this really the first one you’ve been on?”
“Sure. I told you I never went out with anyone, haven’t I?”
“Yeah, but I figured you at least went on a few casual dates. Why not?”
He shrugs. “I wanted it to be special, and with someone I really cared about.”
“Wow. That’s really sweet.” I almost apologize for it being with me, but he gives me a smile that sends shivers up my arms, and I wonder if maybe this is going as nicely for him as it is for me. “How’s your mom?”
“Okay. She seems to be doing better lately, but it won’t last, I’m sure.”
“I’m sorry. I know you probably hear that a lot and it doesn’t mean much, but I am.”
“At least you’re not too afraid to ask,” Ethan replies. Just then, our waiter stops by. I order some mozzarella sticks.
“That can’t be all your having,” Ethan protests, making the waiter pause in his writing.
I shrug. “I had a big snack.”
“Can you give us another minute?” Ethan asks the waiter, flashing him a wide smile. As soon as he’s gone, it turns into a glare. “Seriously, get whatever you want.”
“I don’t want much else. I’m probably going to gorge myself on salad and breadsticks, anyway.” It’s honestly not even a lie.
He frowns at me. “Really?”
“I’ll order the most expensive thing off the menu if you want me to, but I’m not going to enjoy it as much,” I say, holding up the plastic menu and waving it at him.
He hesitates.
“Ethan, seriously. You eat whatever you want. I’ll eat whatever I want. We’re good.”
“Are you sure?”
“You can buy me popcorn at the movie later if it makes you feel better.”
He blinks. “Crap, I forgot about the movie.”
“You forgot about the movie,” I parrot. “Wasn’t that your idea?”
“I mean, I was going to take you, of course, but maybe I shouldn’t eat as much for dinner.” Immediately, he opens his menu again. “I’m going to warn you right now, I will probably eat half the bag of popcorn.”
“Excuse me,” I say, “I thought we were getting separate bags? Because I swear to God, I will rip off your hand if you snag too much of my popcorn.”
“Your popcorn? Sharing is caring, Abby.”
“Lies.”
We agree on two separate bags. Ethan ends up deciding to order an appetizer for a meal as well, a small shrimp scampi. As predicted, we do, however, binge ourselves on salad and breadsticks in the meantime.
“This is amazing,” he mumbles through half-consumed food. “I’ve only been here once before, and it’s incredible. Are you liking it?”
“So much better than Olive Garden.”
We hold up breadsticks and cheers the other. We’re overgrown children and I love it. If this is how it will always be with him…
If this could be my life…
We try bits of each other’s food when it comes, and we finish most of our own meals. Honestly, it’s a little disappointing to see the little food that is left over go to waste, but God knows we ate plenty. And we still have popcorn to eat. Maybe we really should just share a bag.
Nah.
Ethan pays, and I don’t argue. I plan on buying my own ticket, at least.
In the car, we start talking about college. He tells me about a paper he’s writing about children in low-income families and homework.
“If you want someone to read it over, I’ll be happy to,” I say. “I won’t even charge you.”
He perks up. “Would you really?”
“Sure. I know a thing or two about editing.”
“That would be fantastic.” The more Ethan gushes with gratitude, the more I smile. It feels nice to help someone.
What a perfect night.
Chapter 16
We pull into the movie theater on the outskirts of town near US-12. He and I slide out of the car. All I can think about is how now would be a nice time for him to hold my hand, or for it to start snowing, or something else out of a Hallmark movie. Nothing like that happens; we continue to walk side-by-side with no physical contact, but I’m happy anyway. My heart feels warm and jittery in the best way. I never knew I could be so anxious and still feel so content.
Ethan holds the door open for me as we enter the theater. I head to the ticket booth first and immediately buy both tickets, because why not. I slam my card down and slide it to the employee on the other side of the glass before Ethan can stop me.
“Hey!” he cries.
“You bought dinner, and you’re buying popcorn. Let me do something.”
He frowns. “But - ”
“If you want to be a gentleman, don’t argue with a lady,” I reply primly.
That makes him bark a laugh. “You’re a lady now?”
“Jerk.”
The employee bears a smile on her face as she hands me the tickets, card, and receipt, wishing us a pleasant movie experience. I thank her and throw the receipt in my purse before Ethan can nose around and try to find the ticket price.
“You’re sneaky,” he says.
“I am. That’s how I snuck out so often as a kid.”
“I always got so stressed when I would find you at the shore after you snuck out.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Ethan laughs. “I remember once when I was heading home from my part-time job, I saw you sitting on some guy’s lap. You had a beer in your hand, so I told the guy to lay off and I got you home. You complained the whole time.”
I cringe. “Oh. Yeah, I was a pain, wasn’t I?”
“You were young. You made stupid choices like other people.”
“You never did.”
“I got out and had my own share of reckless fun when I was in the military.”
“Really?” We get in line for popcorn. Even though it’s late, there’s a group ahead of us ordering. It gives us time to continue talking. “I wouldn’t have thought that you’d have time to do crazy stuff. I thought it was pretty rigid.”
“It is, but during basic training, I had some downtime and made some bad choices.”
I snort. “You sound like some old man recounting the days of his youth.”
“Oh, is t
hat an age joke? I’m only a few years older, you brat.”
I grin cheekily at him, and he smiles back.
The group ahead of us moves, and Ethan orders for us. To pass the time, I look around and happen to glance at the group, at first in passing, and then more when the group stops walking and looks at us.
I freeze.
“Here’s yours,” Ethan says, handing me my bag of popcorn. I take it, but I don’t think I even say thank you. He notices, looking away and toward the group. “Hey, Beth.”
I glance at him, shocked. It’s said so casually, as if we aren’t doing anything wrong. I mean, we’re not. It’s not like he’s cheating on her or anything. Beth knew he and I were soulmates, too. But I still feel like I’ve done something unforgivable.
“Hi,” Beth says, looking stunned. “Are you two on a date?”
I almost protest, but Ethan says, “Yeah.”
“Oh. Um, what movie are you guys seeing?” she says, donning a wide, false smile. I can definitely see Ethan’s influence. Oh, God. This sucks.
“That. What about you?” I stammer.
“Some indie adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. You wouldn’t be into it, I’m sure.”
“I guess not,” I say. I feel like there’s a dig in there somewhere, although I really don’t think she meant there to be one. Or maybe she did. I don’t know. “Well, have fun.”
“You too,” Beth says, smiling at both of us and walking away with her friends. Apparently, she’s not going to introduce me to them, or vice versa.
I hurry to the butter machine and pour it on my popcorn.
“Are you okay?” Ethan asks.
“You didn’t do it right. You’re supposed to ask for the bag to be half-filled, then put butter and salt on that layer, then ask for it to be filled to the top and you put butter and salt on the top layer, too.”
“My bad. Um, what was that about? Beth seemed out of it. You, too.”
“Beth didn’t know you and I were going out tonight.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. It’s not like I told her you and I would never happen, but I feel like I lied to her, even though I didn’t mean to.”
He scrunches his brow. “It’s not up to her if we date or not.”
“I know, but it still sucks.” A horrific thought crosses my mind. “What if this ruins your friendship with her?”
“Because you and I went on a date?” he says dubiously, but even after all these years, he apparently doesn’t understand women. “It’ll be weird, sure, but it’s not like it’s impossible for us to still be friends. She and I have already talked about it a little, too, how we have the same Mark.”
I roll my eyes, shaking salt viciously onto my popcorn. “It’s hard to make that work, though. And I don’t want to come between you two.”
“That won’t happen with just one date,” he says firmly.
Oh.
I guess I was thinking that this might become something more.
My bad.
“Yeah,” I say after a moment. “I guess you’re right.”
“We’ll worry about it more down the road,” he adds, before I can start spiraling too much.
“Okay,” I murmur, feeling my face heat up. Then I look up at him. “You’re really okay with this?”
He nods. “Of course.” Giving me a cheeky grin, Ethan adds, “I’m on a date with a beautiful girl, and I have a bag of popcorn. I’ve got it made.”
I can’t help but grin a little back. “You’d be perfectly content if you just had the popcorn.”
“Hmm. Maybe you’re right.”
I smack him on the arm, and he laughs.
I’m a mess of emotions - thrilled and delighted, worried and self-hating - all through the trailers airing before the start of That. Even the horror ones do little to distract me. But what does distract me - or maybe it just adds to the mess - is Ethan’s presence beside me. I pick at my popcorn, one by one. He takes a mouthful and practically unhinges his jaw like a snake. I bite back a chuckle and force myself to look back at the movie trailer, but a dull glow distracts me. I glance back at him.
Underneath his light, white shirt, in the darkness of the theater, I can see the faint light of his Mark glowing.
I bite my lip. It’s proof he’s mine, and I’m his.
I shouldn’t feel so possessive. The entire time I was with Greg, I was careful to keep in mind that things could end at any time - which they did. I tried to keep myself focused and grateful for every day. Now, I’m not even through my first date with Ethan and I’m claiming him as mine. It’s wrong. It’s unfair to him, and to myself. We’ve made no promises. And this entire date has been pretty platonic so far. No touches, no kisses. So I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.
But it’s very hard not to.
Am I just lonely? Am I just trying to have a rebound because Greg’s found someone else? What if I move somewhere else? What will happen to our relationship then?
My heart pounds in my chest, and it’s not because the start of That is beginning. Crap, now I’m just jittery, and not in a nice way. I try to swallow, but my throat feels tight. Why am I like this? Why can’t I just act like normal? I try to focus on the movie, but the horror on screen just adds to the tension.
“Can you hold my bag?” I whisper to Ethan. Thankfully, no one’s voice sounds totally steady when they whisper.
He glances at me. “Sure. I’ll even refrain from eating out of it.”
I give him a shaky smile. “Whatever would I do without you.”
I fish for my phone, then leave my purse on the ground and hurry out of the theater. I go toward the ladies’ room, but stop. What if Beth is in there? I can’t talk to her now. I can’t talk to anyone now.
Why now? It’s been such a good night. Why do I have to have this now?
After a few minutes, I realize nowhere is better to take a breather than inside the same theater I’d just left. It only has a few other people there, so I take a seat in the near-vacant back row and cover my ears, squeezing my eyes shut. Okay, Abby. Breathe deep, and exhale. Breath in, breathe out. You got this. You’re gonna get through this. You -
My phone dings during a quiet part of the film. Crap. I’d forgotten to turn it off. I blindly pull it out of my pocket and power it off. Hopefully, it’s not an emergency. I just need a minute to -
“Abby?”
I flinch, looking up in alarm. Ethan’s warm blue eyes find mine. “Hey,” he stage-whispers, just barely audible over the film. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I yelp, but I immediately wince. My voice is too loud.
“Is it the movie? It’s much more intense than the miniseries, but - ”
“No.”
He pauses. “Is it me?”
I gape at him. “No, of course not!”
Ethan seems to relax. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, because I don’t know what else to tell him. “I’m acting like a basket case.”
“Absolutely not,” he says. “Do you want to leave?”
“Movie tickets are expensive.”
“I’d rather make sure you’re doing okay than see a movie.”
I bite my lip. I don’t know what to tell him.
“Do you want to go?” he asks me.
I take a deep breath. It’s much harder than it should be. “No,” I say after a while. “Just…give me a minute?”
He nods. “Of course. I’ll be at our seats. Just come back over when you’re ready, okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
His hand stretches out toward me, but then falls short. He stands and gives me a soft smile, hesitating only a moment before going back to his seat.
God, I’m so embarrassed. But it’s also sweet, how he checked up on me. I’m surprised he wasn’t more uncomfortable.
But the immediate desire to run is gone, fizzling out of me. My embarrassment takes its place, but that, too, seems to fade. I start watching the film again, which has gone from the horror elemen
t to a slice-of-life scene of children befriending each other. Slowly, I become engrossed in it. After a few minutes, I return to my original seat, slowly stretching my hand toward Ethan’s extra bag of popcorn. He hands it to me, smiling a little. I give him a weak smile back.
He doesn’t ask me anything, and it makes me relax even more. Eventually, I slip back into the world of the movie, feeling tired and a little on edge, but better. I do jerk at a jump scare, but Ethan immediately wraps an arm around the back of my chair. He doesn’t actually touch me, but it feels nice, knowing he’s there. I wish I could get myself together and tease him about his arm placement, but I’m not quite there yet.
The movie’s good. I mean, I missed the first, like, twenty minutes of it, but otherwise, it’s pretty gripping from what I see. I enjoy it, from what I understand of it. Thankfully, I remember enough from the miniseries to see me through.
I do laugh, though, when Ethan jumps at a scary moment, his arm whacking me in the back of my head in the process. He apologizes profusely, but I’m too busy laughing to be mad. Geez, he probably thinks I’m bipolar. Maybe I am bipolar. Hmm.
In any case, eating seems to help, which is a rather dangerous precedent to set. But most of my bag is gone, and all of Ethan’s is, so at least it was worth the $7.50 each. I’m incredibly full by the time the film ends, and we waddle our way out the door, dumping the empty bags in the trash.
We talk about the film for a while as we make our way to his truck. I maybe gush about it a little more than necessary; anything to keep questions at bay. But there’s only so much I can say about it. By the time we close our car doors, and Ethan has turned the engine and seat warmers on, I’ve run out of words. I search my brain for a different topic, but I come up with nada before he says, “I don’t want to pry or anything, but are you feeling better?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing.”
He snorts. “Like you haven’t seen me picking a fight with a trash can outside a hospital.”
Oh. That’s true.
“Do you mind if I ask what happened?”
Homebound Page 13