“For what?”Harper asked.
“I was just about to shut down for the night, now I don’t have to.Yay, me!”
“It’s only 8:00,” Banks insisted.“Not even.”
The cashier held up a roll of tickets.“Yeah, but I guess word got around that Sigma Pheta Nu was throwing a kegger tonight for all the freshies, so...”
Banks and Harper glanced at each other.The cashier snorted.“Guess you two didn’t hear?”
Banks shrugged.“I mean, we were at Freshman Orientation, nobody said anything...”
“I guess they were spreading fliers around during the ice cream social, what’d you two do?Skip it?”
Harper blushed.“I guess?”
She continued holding the roll of tickets up, as if she was a fisherwoman dangling her bait.“You guys going?It’s not far...”
Harper hemmed, but Banks inched slightly forward, predatory and pretty in his lean, muscular way.“We’d still like to see the movie, if it’s okay with you?”His tone made it clear he certainly hoped it was, but also that it didn’t matter either way.For the first time in his life, Harper felt almost ...protected.And proud?Proud to know someone as cocky and entitled and alpha as Banks to get what he wanted.To get what, with any luck, they both wanted.
“Your loss,” she sighed, as if she’d been looking forward to raging that night herself.“Two tickets toVampire Virgins from Mars 5, coming up.”
Banks took them, tossing a few crumpled bills in the tip jar just outside the semicircular window cut in the old-fashioned theater booth.She made a chuffing sound and went back to filing her nails.
“We still good?”Banks asked, reaching for the door.
“I am, but...”Harper held the door open for them both, admiring the short, still damp curls atop his companion’s head.“Are you?I mean, keg party?Frat house?Lots of hot babes getting drunk and horny?”
Banks shrugged casually and simply drifted past, as if crossing the threshold into the lobby might blot out the rowdy night of debauchery just down the street and around the corner on Fraternity Row.“And miss watching a cult 70s classic with my new bestie?Yeah, right.”
Harper followed him to the concession stand, where a single cashier stood, as listless and board as the passive aggressive ticket taker out front.“Finally!”The kid gave a little cheer, pushing thick glasses up on his greasy little nose.“This popcorn isn’t gonna eat itself, fellas!”
Harper chuckled nervously, Banks giving him a cautious glance as they loaded up on sodas and popcorn and other assorted goodies.“You sure this is all free?”
“Candy wasn’t supposed to be,” offered the energetic cashier behind the smeared glass counter.“But since everyone else is out getting loaded, my manager said go for it, so...”
Harper reached into his pocket for his own fist full of crumpled ones, shoving them in what looked to be a hastily assembled tip jar fashioned out of a plastic jar that, judging from the torn label just under the scribbled “Tips Appreciated” sign, at one time held 18.6 ounces of jalapeno slices.
“Thanks, guys, enjoy the movie!”
Banks and Harper drifted away, sneakered feet on the swirly, colorfully patterned movie theater carpet beneath them.They said little, previews from coming attractions blaring from speakers overhead as they navigated the long, narrow lobby of the outdated cinema to one of the three theaters in the back.
Harper wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not, but Banks was standing close to him, so close he could smell the body wash he must have used that night, subtle and sweet compared to Banks’s usual outer layer of rich, musky cologne.He’d worn a simple but clingy t-shirt, a kind of faded guacamole color with thick blue and white stripes just across his taut chest.Navy blue shorts completed his yacht rock, summer in the Hamptons look, complete with khaki sneakers that gave his compact frame an extra inch or two in height.
Everything about the outfit screamed first date, except that this definitely, absolutely, wasn’t a date.Right?“Weird, huh?”Banks was looking at Harper, movie theater door open in his free hand, nodding at the empty theater beyond.
“Which part?”
Banks nodded as if admitting everything about the last twelve hours had been utterly, absolutely, certifiably bonkers.“All of it, obvi, but I was referring to the movie theater.”
“It’s like if the apocalypse happened and no one was around to stop the projectors from still running.”
“Or the popcorn machine from still popping.”Banks held up his big yellow tub as Harper drifted past, admiring the dozen or more rows drifting to just beneath the projection booth at the back.“Or the Red Vines from vining...”
They chuckled nervously, the door drifting shut behind them and the room suddenly quiet after the nonstop announcer voices and booming explosions coming from the trailers blaring out in the lobby.Banks stood a few steps up, waving his popcorn and licorice toward the empty rows of seats.“Up front?Middle?Back row?”
Harper joined him on the same step, basking in that sweet and savory scent upon his smooth, pale skin.“You pick.”
“You don’t want me to pick, dude.”
