“We go to the movies.”
“What?” I look out the windshield to see him turning into the parking lot of an unadorned square building. The only sign it’s even a movie theater is the unlit marquee advertising a movie that was in theaters months ago in huge, black block letters.
“This is the closest one.” Boone gives me a contrite frown.
“It looks?—”
“Awful,” he remarks.
“Different,” I correct.
“If it were a real date, I would have taken you somewhere else.”
“Oh!” The exclamation of surprise slips past my lips.
“That sounded better in my head. I wasplanningon taking you somewhere else, but circumstances have changed. This is mostly about keeping up appearances so we can talk where I know we won’t be overheard.”
“Oh,” I repeat, the meaning much different.
“One good thing about this place is it’s pretty dead. It will be easy to spot anyone trying to get too close.”
“Silver lining,” I agree, reaching for my door handle as he opens his.
We pass a few other cars in the parking lot. I’m on the fence about whether or not I should make a wager with Boone that at least three of them belong to the employees. He hauls open thedarkly tinted glass door for us, revealing a small vestibule. The smell of buttery popcorn hits me first. That’s a good sign. I was worried the floors were going to be sticky, like maybe this used to be an entirely different kind of theater.
“What are you smiling about?” Boone’s mouth is closer to my ear than I expect, and I get goosebumps.
“Do you really want to know? My mind can be a dark place.”
“I don’t want to know, now Ineedto know.” He opens the next door, and I’m speechless for a moment while I take in the interior. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he mumbles to himself, but I can’t help but agree.
“Me either. The opposite in fact.” The interior of the building is opulent, all red velvet and gold finishings. Even the candy counter looks like something from a bygone era.
“Don’t leave me hanging, Harlyn, what put that pretty smile on your lips?”
“Gosh, it’s even worse now.” I chuckle softly before leaning a little closer to him and admitting, “I was wondering if this was a reclaimed skin-flick theater.”
Boone’s eyes widen in what I’m guessing is surprise before he bursts out laughing. He’s so boisterous and animated, I look around to see if there’s anyone else around to witness it. Before I can spot anybody, his hands land on my cheeks, and he steers my attention back to him. “That is not what I was thinking when you said dark.”
“Did I say dark? I might have meant dirty.” I grin with him.
His eyes slip down to my lips, and my stomach dips. Instead of leaning in, he releases his hold on my face and takes a step back. “Let’s see what’s starting soon.”
The rejection stings, but I try not to let it show. I’m not sure how much of his mixed signals I can manage before I’ll need to shut him out for my own sanity.
He gets us tickets for the next showing and loads up on popcorn, drinks, and candy. The girl from the candy counter walks around and greets us near a short set of roped off stairs. After taking our tickets, she directs us to a cozy little lobby just off the entrance, informing us that we still have nearly thirty minutes before we can seat ourselves in the theater.
“I never would have ventured into this place from the looks of the exterior alone,” I divulge after lowering myself into a club chair.
“I bet the locals love it. Not that many people on vacation make time to go to the movies, and I bet even the summer residents would travel to the larger theater in the next town over.” he agrees, nipping a bit of popcorn from the top of the bucket.
There’s an awkwardness in our conversation that wasn’t there before. Maybe it’s just the strange situation we’re in, or maybe he’s second-guessing his interest in me, considering the epic baggage that comes with me—not that I can blame him. Who wants to get tangled up with a girl who’s being stalked by what I believe is a serial killer?
“I’d definitely come back,” he finally says, bouncing his gaze around the room. I don’t share his sentiment. As much as I loved Michigan, it may not be the place for me.
“Sooo,” I start, “is it okay to talk here? It would surely be better than inside, when we would have to yell.”
Boone’s eyes make one final lap around the empty lobby before falling to me. “Yeah, I think we’re good.”
