“Like a date?” he asks, one thick, black eyebrow shooting up.
“Are you going to have a meltdown if we call it a date?”
“Evan—” he warns.
“Then it’s not a date,” I interrupt, rolling my eyes.
“Fine. Get dressed.”
An hour later, I’m on the back of Sebastian’s bike, my hair in Dutch braids so they won’t get tangled from the wind on the way. I’m wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts and an oversized black hoodie that’s longer than my shorts with the word Jessup on the front. Sebastian insisted it wasn’t a date, so I’m not dressing like it’s one.
We pull into the dark parking lot of a bargain theater that plays older movies for two dollars. I looked it up on my phone earlier. Walking up to the ticket booth, I tell the teenage boy working there what move we want to see. Sebastian doesn’t seem to care either way.
“Not a fan of movies?” I ask.
He shrugs, handing the cashier a bill. “We didn’t have television growing up. We didn’t have video games or iPhones either. The globe was our playground.”
That makes sense. Sebastian’s only a few years older than me, but it always feels like he came from a different generation entirely. He’s not fixated with social media. He’s completely out of touch with pop culture. I can see him, Eros, Lathan, and Tres running around like little hoodlums on dirt bikes, wreaking havoc. I kind of love that about them.
“Besides, my reality is stranger than fiction.”
At the concession stands, I order popcorn and M&Ms, while Sebastian opts for a cherry slush. When we get into the theater, it’s almost empty, save for a couple of guys near the bottom of the auditorium. I lead Sebastian to the very back row, making sure to find the seat directly in the center before I sit down.
“What’s this movie about, anyway?” he asks, taking the spot to my left.
“It’s about what happens when crime is legal for one night a year only. These guys run around in weird masks terrorizing people.”
“Eros was right. You like weird shit.”
“How would he know?” I ask, cutting my eyes at him.
“You left something open on your computer. Probably porn again,” he says, his voice taunting.
I roll my eyes, my cheeks getting hot. “I told you, it wasn’t porn.” Well, I guess technically it was. “It was an independent film.”
“You watch a lot of independent films, Evan?” he asks.
“They’re my favorite,” I say, ignoring his insinuation. “There’s this one about a girl whose vagina has teeth…”
Sebastian flattens his lips, hiding his amusement.
“Never mind.”
The lights dim, the previews starting up. I dump the bag of M&Ms into the bucket of popcorn, and Sebastian pulls a face like I’ve personally offended him.
“Don’t knock it till you try it,” I say, shaking the bucket before holding it out to him. He grabs a handful, gracelessly shoving it into his mouth before giving me a reluctant nod of approval.
Around halfway through the movie, I scream at a particularly unexpected part, causing the two guys in the bottom row to chuckle. I can handle scary. I just can’t handle things jumping out at me. Sebastian plucks the half-eaten bucket of popcorn out of my lap, sliding it onto the floor next to his feet. He flips the armrest up before fitting his palm between my thighs. I squirm, my body heating already. Sebastian looks over, smirking at me in the dark, then gives me a squeeze before turning his attention back to the movie.
Bastard.
Watching the screen, I try, unsuccessfully, to think about anything other than where his hand is. Slowly, the tips of his fingers graze the insides of my thighs, back and forth. My pulse picks up the pace, and now I know he’s doing it on purpose. He’s trying to get me hot and bothered, and it’s working. Deciding that two can play at this game, I pull my hoodie over my head, leaving me in a plain white camisole with a built-in bra. Sebastian grips my thigh tighter, and when I chance a glance at him, his gaze is aimed right at my chest.
Before I know what’s happening, he spreads his legs apart and plucks me off my seat, planting me in between them.
“Sebastian!” I hiss. He covers my mouth with his left hand.
“Shh,” he says into my ear before tugging on one of my pigtail braids. “I like these,” he whispers. “They remind me of the night we met. So sweet and innocent.” His right hand flattens onto my chest before dipping down into my shirt. “And I can see your pulse fluttering in your neck, too, just like that night.”