Hm, that’s a good question. I’ve got to think about that for a second. Oh, now I remember. “Bathroom.”
“Let me help you.”
Ugh. When will he stop being all chivalrous and shit? “Nah, I got it.” That’s when I trip over something on the ground. I’m able to recover and not land flat on my face, which is great. Still, I need to know what caused that near accident. Looking back and down, I don’t see anything. “Must… Must’ve been a rock or something.”
“Matilda, wait up.”
Am I walking so fast the man can’t catch up to me? When I look back, I see he’s following me while carrying all of our gear—two chairs, the basket, and a blanket thrown over his shoulder. I stop walking. “Are we leaving?”
“The first movie is over. Do you want to stay for the second?”
I scoff because a) no and b) no. “Gotta pee.” I weave my way past a tree and a giant boulder and behold Port-a-Potty City.
He’s still behind me. I can feel him. I continue to ignore him though, because I’m hurt and sad and mad and all the other emotions that go along with being kissed then told it was a mistake.
Was I that terrible of a kisser?
I suppose that could be it.
“No, you kiss just fine, Matilda. It was me.”
Oops, I said that aloud. No matter, another scoff escapes my lips at his words. “Whatever.”
Opening the portable bathroom door, I hold my breath because, ick, I hate these things. Inside, I latch the door and squat, trying to use the thing without any part of my body touching it. Trust me, it’s not easy sober, so the way I’m feeling right now, all wonky and unbalanced, well, forget about it. I end up on the seat making that disgusted facial expression because the seat was wet.
Gross.
By the time I’m done, Alec is nowhere to be found. “Figures.” Not sure where to go, I head left. Why not? Might as well check this place out. It’s pretty cool, to be honest. It’s too bad this memory will be marred by the kiss that meant nothing. “Ha.”
Okay, I don’t know what I’m ha-ing about. It doesn’t matter. I meander through the park around people’s blankets and chairs, saying hello to anyone who looks nice.
Around here, that’s everyone. A couple people try to shush me, but I keep right on going. I spot an older woman who reminds me a lot of Nonna Vicky. God, I wish she were alive. And Mom. Oh boy, I start to sniffle.
“Honey?” Nonna Vicky’s doppelgänger asks. “Are you okay?”
“No.” I shake my head. Then I plop right down in a chair next to hers. “I’m not okay, Nonna Vicky.”
“My name is Alice, but you can call me Nonna if you want. That’s what my grandchildren call me.”
“Nonna Alice, I’m not having a very good time.”
“Here? At the movies?”
“Here, as in Texas.”
“Why not, honey?”
And then I tell her. Everything. I’m not sure how long the story takes me, but she’s listening intently. At least I think she is.
“It sounds to me like you both need some time.”
“But, Nonna Alice, I don’t have time.” I lean in and whisper, “I’m almost thirty.”
“You are? You look younger than that.”
“In four years, I’ll be thirty.”
“Well, honey, that’s still far off. You’ve got time.”
