Chapter Fourteen
Jackson
My head was spinning. I walked down the street with my arm around C.J. and wondered how it was possible that I didn’t look like a huge charlatan to the people around me. C.J. leaned against me as we stood waiting for the go-ahead to cross the street, then pulled away and pointed out a brew-pub she thought I’d like.
I didn’t reach for her again, but felt a sort of emptiness in the space between us. We hadn’t known each other long enough for me to spout off to her about feelings, but I reached out and took her hand, placing it on my elbow like my older brothers had taught me to back when I was a gangly fourteen-year-old on the way to his first date.
The brew pub was everything she had claimed. Along with amazing craft beers we had soft, sweet crab cakes, Kobe beef burgers, and even though we were both stuffed by that time, somehow we managed to split a slice of peanut butter pie. I groaned in equal parts ecstasy and intestinal distress as I forced another forkful of sweet peanut butter and chocolate goodness into my mouth.
“I’m going to have to walk a few miles to feel right again,” I admitted around the mouthful of dessert.
“You could stop eating it,” C.J. suggested, earning herself a baleful glare from across the table.
“Sacrilege.”
“We could work it off in bed…”
“I think that would go south quickly.”
She laughed and covered her mouth with her napkin as she started choking on her last bite of pie. “Well, how about we take in a movie? We have all day tomorrow to work on the brace, we don’t have to worry about travel or lodgings for the convention and, thanks to me, you have a VIP pass that means you don’t have to get in line at six in the morning just to get in at ten.”
“How far to the theatre?”
“Less than a mile from here, and less than half a mile home again after.”
“That sounds like a plan. Want to see anything in particular?” She thought for a second and shook her head.
“I’ve been so busy, I don’t even know what’s in the theater right now.” I pushed the plate away from me as a gesture of surrender and grinned.
“No big, we’ll just see whatever is starting closest to when we get there, that isn’t a G-rated cartoon.”
She sat back, feigning shock. “What do you have against children’s movies?”
I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “Hey, I have four older brothers who never fail to score with the ladies. One hard and fast rule they taught me, was that no one wants to have sex after a Disney movie. I’m just trying to keep my options open.”
It was C.J.’s turn to roll her eyes. “Oh, brother. How about I use the restroom and you get us the check? I’m happy to pay for half, so don’t worry about covering it all.” She got up and sauntered to the ladies’ room, and I handed our server my card, just as she was bringing us the check. With a wink and a quick smile, she took off again, and by the time C.J. got back, our bill was paid, complete with the perky waitress’ phone number hand written across the top of the receipt she handed back to me.
I folded it in half, hiding the scrawl across the top, and on our way out, dropped it in a trash can. I had no reason to even look at it twice, but gave the cute waitress props for thinking she could hold up against the amazon goddess walking with me to the theater.
Thank God for the Marvel Universe popping out movies like a hare had litters. I wasn’t even sure what heroes were in the movie playing, but we bought tickets and went to our seats without stopping at the snack stand, still stuffed from dinner. The movie had lots of action, and the theater was cold enough that halfway through, C.J. slid closer and lifted the arm of the seat between us so she could pull my arm around her and warm her up.
When the movie ended, we waited until the few people sharing our Tuesday night cinema left and we were alone in our seats. We wandered out and started to wind through the rat maze to find an exit door, when I noticed a movie about to begin, one that I’d been wanting to see.
“C.J., have you ever snuck into a movie?”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “Of course not! Wait, have you?”
I laughed and nodded. “Not since I was a kid. C’mon, let’s see how full the theater is.” I took her by the hand and we snuck up the ramp and around the corner. The place wasn’t even half full, and there were seats available right behind the extra-wide handicap access. I found us seats right in the center and sat down, and C.J. sat stiffly next to me. I rubbed her back and told her to relax, and she leaned over to me.
“I have to use the restroom, I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t you dare buy tickets, you hear me? They’ll survive, and you need to live a little.” She stuck her tongue out at me, shiny in the glow of the trailer that was beginning to play on the giant screen in front of us. She slipped out the side and disappeared around the corner, and I was tempted to follow her to make sure she didn’t pay for the flick, just on principle.
Several minutes and a couple of trailers later, I looked up at a shadow that was cast dimly across my face, and started at the tub of popcorn that hovered there. I took it from C.J.’s outstretched hand and she handed me a large soda gesturing that I use the holder between us. She then gave me a choice of candy, between Twizzlers and Junior Mints, and shrugged her shoulders when I rolled my eyes.
“I’ll take the Junior Mints, and why did you buy food? You can’t possibly be hungry.” She dropped her gaze and played with her purse. “C.J., seriously. All you had to do was tell me you wanted something and I would have bought it for you.”
“You said not to buy tickets.”
Tickets would have been twenty bucks. You spent, what, twenty-three?”
“Almost twenty-five.”
“So, more than tickets would have cost.”
“But, I will sleep tonight.” She bit into a piece of strawberry licorice and grinned around the red candy that was sticking out of her mouth. I sighed and settled in to watch the last trailer before the movie.
“Trade you some of the frozen mints for some Twizzlers.” I said around a mouthful of popcorn.
“Knock yourself out,” she said, handing me the bag, “I really only want some of the Dr. Pepper.” I glanced down at the tall, wax coated cup that was already beginning to sweat condensation in the cup holder at my wrist. It was still cold, and I felt guilty for not having thought of it before she started rubbing her hands over her arms.
I dumped all the candy in her lap and reached across her with the soda, using the cup holder in the opposite armrest. I lifted the one between us and scooted her right up against my side, pulling strands of licorice out of the bag in her lap one at a time between bouts of belly laughter at the low-brow and often perverse humor on the big screen.
As we made our way back to her apartment, C.J. practically skipped down the sidewalk doing remarkably good impressions of the guys we’d just watched trading one-liners between pratfalls. Every time she finished a joke, she’d laugh out loud, right there in the middle of Los Angeles, like we were all alone inside the apartment. Just watching her made me smile.
“Hey, where’s the hardware store? We’re all jacked up on Dr. Pepper and sugar, we might as well burn it off doing what we planned, or at least trying to make our sugar-high selves useful to our nauseated and sober selves of tomorrow morning. She giggled and wrapped her hand around my elbow, and pointed to the right.
“It’s only about a block over, but,” she glanced at her phone, “they closed while we were watching Mark Wahlberg make an ass of himself. So, let’s go home, play a little Overwatch, or Minecraft, have a beer or two, maybe handcuff you to the bedrail…”
I scoffed, then glanced at her face, to make sure she was kidding. She winked at me and tugged me toward the complex door.