“To be with you.”
I smiled at his honesty. He was probably high, but in that moment I decided I’d take it. I leaned my head on his shoulder and grabbed his fingers with my good hand.
“Well, that’ll be the last time we come here for a while,” I told him. “Unless you get super-rich and we can rent the whole place out for ourselves.”
“I’m not quite there yet, I’m afraid.”
“That’s too bad. At least we can always watch movies at home.”
We didn’t say anything for a bit, until I glanced over and saw him grinning.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“If it was nothing, you wouldn’t be smiling.”
“Nothing. I was just thinking about watching a horror movie later, and I was remembering the last time we did it and you freaked out and you wouldn’t even walk to the bathroom by yourself.”
“That’s not funny!” I said. “I still have nightmares about that damn nun.”
“It makes sense. Killer nuns are the leading cause of death among young women.”
“I’m about to be your leading cause of death if you keep on like this.”
Jack chuckled, stubbed out his half-finished cigarette, and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
We had to wait a while by the concession stand, but nobody bothered us there. We each had a milkshake, and when Will and Naya walked out of the theater without seeing us, we let them pass by and stayed talking for a little longer. Things were going better now, but I didn’t realize how much better until he wrapped an arm around me on the way to the car. There was a problem, though: the guys who had bothered him before were back at it, trying to snap my picture. Jack pulled me close so they couldn’t see my face and told one of them, “Watch your step.”
“Is that your girlfriend?” his friend asked.
I had to push his phone out of my face, and Jack got so angry that the veins started swelling in his neck. A few steps away, some girls were recording the guys who were recording us. This had all gone too far. I pushed Jack toward the car as the other guy kept pestering. “Come on, bro, is she?” he asked. I didn’t know how long I could keep the scene under control. Thankfully, Will told the guys to scram, and he was intimidating enough when he wanted to be that they didn’t feel like waiting to see if he was serious. By the time he returned, Jack and I were in the car. Will drove us home in silence.
We had dinner and tried to relax, and at some point everyone went to bed. Jack and I watched some TV, and when the memory of what had happened seemed to fade, I turned to him—he was sitting next to me on the couch—and asked if he wanted me to go sleep in the other room.
I couldn’t finish the phrase before he’d lain down and pulled me close. I noticed, though, that he wanted me with my back to him again, almost as if it bothered him to look me in the eye. I didn’t want to overthink it, though. It felt too good to have his arms wrapped around me. But I couldn’t resist stroking his hands with my fingers. He sighed, and I felt his face against my neck, his breath on me as he said, “I’m sorry I was so drunk the other night. I went to a party, and I got a little out of control.”
I hadn’t expected that from him. Especially not then.
“It’s OK,” I said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just got scared you’d forget.”
“Forget what?”
“How we had dinner together. And how we slept here together, too.”
I wondered if he would answer, and he did, but not how I expected. “You’re the one who’s forgetting, Jen. You’re forgetting how I asked you to stay here.”
“You’re right,” I said. “It didn’t seem like such a big deal.”
“Very funny,” he said, tickling my belly. “And I asked you again, and I was completely sober.”
“I know.”
“So are you going to leave, then?”
“Do you want me to?” I asked.
“No.”
