The One That I Want(31)
Author: Jennifer Echols

“It’s like the space race meets Studio 54,” he said.

“I thought you’d like it.” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. I felt my face turn red.

I must have embarrassed him, too, because he asked quickly, “Do I look foreign in this?”

“Hmm.” I considered him. The goatee was gone. His chin and cheeks were smooth again. It was so weird to think about him as much as I did all week, but to have no idea what he looked like from day to day. He was out living his life, and I was missing the whole thing.

I forced my eyes away from his face and examined him from head to toe, concluding, “Yes, you look foreign.”

“But it’s not the shirt, right? My shirt is in English.”

“It’s the necklace,” I said.

He fingered the round gold charm on a red cord. The cord was too tight for him to see the charm well. He tried to peer down at it with one eye closed. He looked adorable when he did this, and I wanted to kick myself for thinking so.

“And the shoes,” I said.

He held out a foot and looked at his sneaker. “What’s wrong with my shoes?”

“I’ve never seen that brand before. They don’t necessarily look Japanese. They might be German. Definitely foreign.”

“I bought them in New York.”

“In Atlanta, that’s foreign.”

“Touché.” He grinned at me.

I wondered whether he was making a joke about Addison’s comment from our dinner at the Varsity: Tissue? Tush? I didn’t ask because I had promised myself I wouldn’t dis Addison in front of him. He had promised not to present me with any more of his theories about my subconscious. With our usual subject matter off-limits, we laughed and talked about local bands all the way to the Fox without really saying a thing.

He was able to find a parking space pretty close to the theater. Bruce Lee was not a big draw at the Fox, apparently. Carter and Addison were waiting for us out front. Addison was wearing a minidress that was so tight I doubted she could breathe. My space-race-meets-Studio-54 top could not compete with her minidress. I had lost again. But this hardly registered, because I was so nervous about greeting Carter.

“Hey, Gemma,” he said, putting one hand on my waist and the other behind my bare shoulder, pulling me close. Before I could back away or yell, Fire! he kissed me on the mouth. He deepened the kiss, and I froze. I didn’t like being stared at on the busy sidewalk.

He finally broke away. The blinking neon lights of the theater facade flickered green across his face. He didn’t look apologetic or embarrassed. He looked triumphant, like he’d just won a game. Then he glanced over at Max.

Max stood at the ticket window, with Addison beside him. Their backs were toward us.

Nope, I wasn’t going to worry about it. I was through puzzling these boys out. Carter wanted to date me or he wouldn’t have asked. When he didn’t want to date me anymore, he would stop asking. I was just glad to be on a date with a handsome boy, at this beautiful theater, seeing an offbeat movie. And I was glad the show would start soon. Carter and I would have almost no dead space to fill with awkward conversation.

My luck got even better. Carter and I would have no dead space to fill. As soon as we all pushed through the outer door into the plush theater lobby, Addison grabbed me and said, “Gemma, come with me to the bathroom.”

At least, I’d thought this was great luck. I’d forgotten that Addison always had something choice to say when she dragged me to the bathroom and pushed me against the wall. This time it was the following:

“Stop paying your own way! It makes me look bad!” She turned to the mirror and ran her fingers underneath her eyes, smoothing her eyeliner, as if what she’d said should make perfect sense to me.

“I beg your pardon?”

She whirled to face me. “Don’t play dumb. You paid for your movie ticket. You paid for your concert ticket last week. You even paid for your salad or whatever the hell you ate at the pizza place. If you pay your own way, you make it look like I should pay my own way.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” I asked. “Max is paying his way and your way out of his referee money, I’m sure. That’s why I pay my way. I have my own money from teaching at the baton studio. Carter shouldn’t have to spend his referee money on me.”

“I don’t have a job!” she flung at me before stomping into a stall.

I stood facing the stall door. I had never been to summer camp because there were all these urban legends about mean girls putting hair remover in each other’s shampoo. I could not imagine someone being that evil, but I was absolutely certain that if this evil girl existed, she would be placed in my cabin, I would be her target, and I would go bald.

Suddenly I understood that evil girl. I wanted very badly to put hair remover in Addison’s shampoo.

Again, I remembered what Max had told me the week before. I avoided conflict so my relationships would not get complicated. But now was not the time to tell Addison how I felt. I wanted to damage her, and that might get me arrested.

I gritted my teeth and turned on my majorette grin, but it didn’t make me feel any happier. I walked back out to the boys, who were waiting for us in the lobby. I was glad that they were engrossed in conversation about kung fu movies. I could just listen to them and watch Max laugh without participating myself.

Carter draped his heavy arm around my shoulders. After a few minutes, when Addison emerged from the restroom, we went to take our seats. Carter kept his arm around me and steered me into the theater. As we sat down, he held my hand and didn’t let it go.

When Bruce Lee started making out with his on-screen lady, Carter leaned over and kissed me. I couldn’t will myself to enjoy it this time. As his tongue moved inside my mouth, Max’s voice was in the back of my head: Every time I looked over at you, he had his hands all over you, and you were letting him. And Max was right. I was tired of pretending to like Carter.

Carter broke the kiss and sat up straight. Beyond Carter’s broad body, Max stared at me with a scowl on his face. He turned back to the movie screen and didn’t look at me again. I was so preoccupied by what Max’s scowl had meant that I couldn’t focus on the rest of the movie.

Carter held my hand again as we walked out of the theater and down the street to a coffee shop. Ignoring the look Addison gave me, I ordered and paid for my own iced coffee. We all sat at a booth in the front of the shop overlooking the sidewalk. Carter put his arm around my shoulders again.