27

“Who picked this movie? It’s gonna be stupid,” Mel complains from the backseat of my car. I glance in the rearview mirror, and Chloe bugs her eyes out at me. I know she’s thinking I’m getting what I deserve for trying to be all peer counselor-ish about Mel. She kept telling me that Mel was a good “group friend,” not a good one-on-one friend. I’m beginning to understand why.

Janae is in the front seat, her legs pulled up to her chest and her head resting on them. She is along for moral support although she doesn’t know why. I can’t tell anyone I recognized Mel’s voice on that line, but I also can’t shake this feeling of responsibility.

“I thought a comedy might be fun.”

Mel makes her sarcastic mmhmm. Truth is, I knew a slapstick comedy wouldn’t be Eeyore’s style, but I wasn’t about to sit through a tearjerker when my goal is to pull Mel from marinating in self-pity.

It’s gonna be a long night. My parents are out of town, so Mel and Janae are sleeping over. And I can tell just by looking at Janae’s hunched shoulders that she is so done with anything Eeyore.

At least there will be no talking during the movie.

Miguel slips his hand into mine, and the butter on his fingers makes them soft. He and Garth met us here at the movie, and we are all split up in different sections of the theater. Chloe and Mel are sitting up front in the fifth row. Janae and Garth in the very back, for optimal make-out potential, and Miguel and I are off to the right side.

We are actually trying to watch the movie. Only the way he’s rubbing his thumb across the outside of my hand is distracting me. It’s making me want to crawl right into his lap and pepper his neck with kisses.

I think I might be distracting him too. He’s all but forgotten about the popcorn bucket that he set down on the floor in between us. He’s wrapped his ankle around mine, and it’s a little awkward but who cares. Everyone in the audience laughs, and it startles me. I missed whatever was funny. Miguel shifts in his seat and leans in toward me.

Okay, so never mind. We are no longer going to watch the movie. We are going to make out. And I’m going to wish we’d sat in the back like Janae and Garth. He kisses me softly, and he tastes so different that I almost feel like I’m kissing someone else. All salty and buttery, his tongue icy cold from the soda he’s been sipping. The stubble on his upper lip and chin rubs across my lips. I lose myself in it.

Miguel leaves the movie to use the restroom, and I sit in the darkness, tasting him in my mouth and contemplating whether I love him. I have never felt like this in my life. I could sit here in a dark theater and kiss him forever. If I move to Washington, DC, for college, I’ll have to leave him behind, and I may never find someone like him again.

When he comes back in, it’s awkward at first, like maybe we forgot where we left off. I don’t want to act like I expect him to make out with me the entire movie, so I face forward and put my eyes on the screen. He goes back to rubbing my hand, and then I relax. I nuzzle my head against his shoulder. He plays with my hair, running his fingers through the length of it.

I peek up at his round, dark eyes and lean in. Bold, like I haven’t been before. His hands are full of my hair. The sounds of laughter blur into the background, and I am floating.

I leave the movie having no idea what it was supposed to be about.

And I don’t care one bit.

After the movie, we say good-bye to the boys and then walk out into the bright sunshine. I squint, feeling disoriented. I click my car doors unlocked and notice that there is an advertisement facedown and stuck under my windshield wiper. It’s rectangular and white. Probably an advertisement for a furniture sale.

Janae, Chloe, and Mel walk around to their respective car doors. I pull out the ad and start to crumple it, but it’s thicker than paper. I flip it over in my hand. Shit. A playing card. Written on with Sharpie like all the others. But this one has no words. No veiled threats. Just a queen with little heart bubbles floating out of her chest.

Who is watching me?

I whirl around, scanning the parking lot. I see nothing out of the ordinary.

Or is one of my friends pranking me with these cards?

They’re all climbing into their seats, not looking at me.

I shove it deep in the pocket of my sweatshirt. I’ll deal with it later.