By the time we get to the classroom, the movie has already started. The lights are off and I trip over my own feet trying to find a place to sit in the dark. Nico sets his backpack by the door and reaches his hand toward mine. I let him guide me through the maze of wayward desks and the legs of students sprawled out across the floor.
I’ve never held a boy’s hand before. But this isn’t like holding hands for real, so I should just calm down. Anyway. I like the feel of it. Nico’s grip is firm but not forceful. Confident. Nice. And when he seems to give my fingers a light squeeze, I try not to dissolve into a fizzy puddle. I barely notice when he grabs a pizza box from a nearby desk.
He finds us a place to sit on the floor. Somewhere we can rest our backs against the wall. We’re in our own space, away from everyone else. He sets the pizza down between us, opens the lid, and shines the light from his phone screen.
“Sausage and pepperoni,” he whispers. “Hope you’re not a vegetarian.”
I whisper back, “At home we usually make pizza with cauliflower crust and pile veggies on top.”
“I can get something different.”
He closes the lid and pushes off the wall to stand up, but I stop him by putting my arm across him like my mom does to me when she suddenly has to slam on the brakes in Bessie. “No, it’s okay. I’m not at home.”
“You sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Well, then dig in,” he whispers.
I can hear my dad’s lecture about processed meats in the back of my mind. I flick him away like an annoying bug, grab a slice, and take a bite. The pizza is salty and spicy and greasy, and it’s so good that I let out a literal moan that makes Nico laugh. I freeze, waiting for the people watching the movie to shush us.
Nico leans closer so only I can hear. “The best, right?”
“Oh my god.” I take another bite. “Where has this been all my life?”
“Arnoldi’s makes killer pizza. They swear it’s because they ship their water in from New York for their crust.”
After two slices each, Nico moves the box aside and we settle back against the wall. On-screen, a kid is being chased by a dog through a junkyard, and a titter of laughter wells up.
“This movie is one of my favorites,” Nico whispers in my ear, and the breath from his words makes my neck tickle. I can feel it all the way down to my fingertips. And the base of my spine.
I try to watch the movie, but the truth is I’m too distracted by how close Nico’s sitting to me to fully focus on anything but his breathing. Every time he draws in air, his shoulder pushes against mine just the tiniest bit. I wonder if he notices it, too. All I can think is that I miss holding his hand.
Reel it in, Juniper. It’s a movie and some free pizza, not a promposal.
Still. His shoulder won’t stop touching mine.
When the movie ends, nobody hurries to get up and turn on the lights. Especially not me. I’m glad Nico doesn’t, either.
He lets out a happy sigh. “That’s the sign of a good movie,” he says in my ear, and my whole body goes fizzy again. “Sometimes you have to sit in the dark for a little bit after it’s over, just taking it in.”
“I get like that with books. Sometimes I’ll finish the last page and literally hug it. Like I need a minute to collect myself or whatever. To inhale. Or exhale. I don’t know.” Nico tilts his head to the side, studying me. “What? Is that weird?”
“Not at all.”
“Okay, good.”
“So what’s your favorite book-turned-movie?”
I scrunch my forehead. “You’re asking me to go deep on something I don’t know very well, because I don’t watch a lot of movies. How about you tell me yours instead.”
“Probably The Shining.” He leans in. Nudges my elbow with his. “But don’t tell Stephen King.”
“I’ll try to remember. I mean, we are like this.” I cross my index and middle fingers together.
He locks his eyes with mine. Smiles. “Lucky you. He’s a genius. I hope he teaches you everything he knows.”
“You do know he makes books, not movies, right?”
He nods. “So have you lost all respect for me because I know his movies better than his words?”
“No.”
“Cool.”
“But why shouldn’t I tell my BFF Steve The Shining is your favorite?”
“Well, I don’t know him like you do, but he’s been pretty vocal about not liking Kubrick’s adaptation. Calls it misogynistic. Says it lacks emotional depth. It’s a whole thing.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Do you agree?”
“I can see what he’s saying.” Nico stops like he’s thinking. “It’s just … The Shining is so aesthetically awesome, you know?”
“I don’t know, because I haven’t seen it. Are there any adaptations he does like?”
“Supposedly this one. Stand by Me.”
“Well, I’m glad I saw it, then.”
“Me too.”
The lights finally flicker on. Nico pushes his back against the wall and raises his arms high above his head to stretch. I can’t help but notice the way the bottom of his T-shirt rises up to expose a sliver of skin from his stomach.
“So you enjoyed that?” he asks.
At first I think he means did I enjoy that sliver of stomach, but he means the movie. “It was good. Even the barfing scene.”
“Sorry we got here a little late. Maybe we can watch the whole thing from the beginning sometime.”
“Definitely.” I want to ask when. Like give me the exact time and place and I’ll ditch school in the kitchen to be there.
In one fluid motion, Nico jumps to standing, hovering above me. He puts his hand out to mine. I grab it and he pulls me up from the ground, giving my hand an extra squeeze I know I’m not imagining this time. But then he lets go.
And we’re standing there facing each other, only a few inches between us, until a stocky guy with Real Woodstock Jimi Hendrix hair and a smattering of chin pimples accidentally bumps Nico hard enough on the shoulder with his camouflage backpack that Nico goes toppling into me. My hands automatically grab his waist to steady myself, and I suddenly feel like we’re slow dancing.
“Dude,” Nico says to the guy, “watch the backpack.”
“Sorry, man. Just wanted to say cool pick on the flick.”
I turn to Nico. “Wait. You picked the movie?”
He shrugs. “Yeah.”
“Why are you acting all shy and embarrassed? You did a good job,” I say.
“Thanks.”
“I’ve got the next one,” the guy with the backpack says excitedly. “So get ready. You know I like my sci-fi.” He rubs his hands together. “I’m thinking Brazil. Or Blade Runner. Or both.”
“Figures.” Nico shakes his head. “Juniper, this is Jared, by the way.” Nico waves his hand between his friend and me. “Jared, Juniper.”
Jared tilts his chin at me. “Hey.”
“Most people in our club are here simply because they like movies,” Nico says. “But Jared wants to go to film school same as I do, so we appreciate each other on another level.”
“We do,” Jared says. “Which is why I was trying to decide if I was gonna give Nico a hard time for bringing a newbie tonight. But you seem cool enough.”
“Ah. But how do you know I’m cool?” I grin. “We’ve barely talked. I could be a total asshole.”
He laughs. “Nah. Nico doesn’t really hang out with assholes.”
“Except you,” Nico jokes.
“Dude. That hurts,” Jared says, pressing his hand to his heart in mock pain.
I use the sleeve of my hoodie to hide a giggle.
“Did I mention he wants to be an actor, too?” Nico tells me. “In the movies that he writes and directs? Which I’m sure he’ll accomplish, because he’s really good.”
“You know it. I’m gonna be a triple threat.” Jared points at me as he walks away. “Juniper, thanks for coming. Maybe I’ll see you next week.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I glance up at the clock. Realize it’s ten minutes past eight. “I should go. I told my mom I’d be home around now.”
“Oh.” Nico grabs his backpack from the floor. “I’ll walk you.”
I was hoping he’d say that.