by Hamel, B. B.
I looked out across the grass toward a set of trees planted in a small hillside, providing shade for the sidewalks. Groups of kids sat around them, studying and socializing. Briefly, I wondered how many of them called their parents almost every day.
“I’m all ears,” she replied.
“Well, it’s about Noah Carterson.”
“Ah, this again.” She didn’t sound excited.
“Have you had any contact with his dad since, you know?”
She sighed. “Look, Linda, sweetie. This is a bad memory for me. It’s not something I really want to talk about.”
“I know Mom, I’m just trying to get a sense for this guy.”
“I understand. I really don’t want to talk about that part of my life anymore, but I’d be happy to talk to you about Noah. Let’s just stay away from his dad.”
I was pretty surprised at her response. Usually, once I got her going, there was no topic off-limits. Suddenly, though, this part of her life was something we couldn’t bring up, and it felt strange. My mom was never one for huge displays of emotion, or really anything dramatic. It must have been incredibly painful if she really wasn’t willing to go into it at all.
“Okay Mom, I promise not to ask again,” I said.
“Thanks, I appreciate that. How’s Professor Johnson treating you?”
We went off on a tangent about Professor Johnson, but I couldn’t get the tone of her voice out of my head. It was painful, and sad, and a still little angry. Not angry with me, but with Noah’s dad.
As I hung up the phone, I began to suspect that I hadn’t been told the whole story. It was pretty awful that he had tried to ruin her career; there was no doubt about that. But I sensed that there was something more to it. If there wasn’t, then I thought she’d be more willing to at least entertain the notion of talking about that family.
Instead, there was clearly a well of pain I hadn’t noticed before. I got up from my bench and began to walk back to my apartment, completely stumped as to what that was. I couldn’t imagine what would possibly make my mom still hate to talk about that man, despite however many years having passed. For some reason, it felt as if the wound was still fresh. Confused, I climbed the steps to my apartment, went upstairs, and began to get changed for work.
Chapter Thirteen
I climbed down the steps and into the theater’s main lobby wearing my usual work uniform. I was still buzzing with curiosity over my mom’s reaction over the phone, but I was also beginning to feel guilty. I knew that she didn’t want to talk about it from the beginning, and yet I was willing to push her beyond her comfort zone for the sake of learning about Noah. That shouldn’t have been something I was willing to do; I should have much more interest in preserving her feelings, rather than pumping her for information.
Chelsea was sitting in the box office, and gave me a small wave. I smiled back as I dropped off my stuff. The Wonder Twins were busy setting up the concession stand, and Noah was nowhere in sight. I guessed he was either setting up the projectors or sweeping out the theaters. Miss H was in her office, as usual, doing whatever it was she did back there. I guessed she was writing a screenplay about her life as a stevedore on a Mexican dock, though I was pretty sure none of that happened.
“Hey guys,” I called out to Chuck and Mikey as I walked past.
“Yo,” Mikey said.
“Sup girl,” Chuck called out.
I laughed and kept walking. I poked my head into the smallest theater and saw Noah sitting in the second row, his legs kicked up on the seat in front of him, staring at his phone.
I walked down the row and sat in the seat behind him.
“Hello, stranger,” I said, dropping my voice low.
“Prostitution is frowned upon in here, sir,” Noah said, not looking up from his phone.
“Ew, are you kidding me?”
He looked back at me, grinning. “I said frowned upon, dots. I’ll look the other way for your sake.”
“Is that all you ever think about?”
He shrugged. “With you, it is.”
I blushed under his intense look. I couldn’t tell if he was still joking around, or if he was admitting something to me. Maybe it was a little of both.
“Okay, creep,” I muttered, looking away.
“That, right there. That’s why I can’t stop picturing those polka dots.”
I glared at him, suddenly annoyed. “Want me to do tickets again?” I said.
He shrugged, turning back to his phone. “Sure thing. Would you mind sweeping up theater two?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” I stood up and stalked off. I was getting pretty sick of him bringing up that embarrassing moment. Sometimes I thought he did it just to be a dick, since he knew it pissed me off. Maybe he really did only think about fucking me, but he could at least stop bringing up the embarrassing time I practically tackled him.
As I grabbed a broom and dustpan, I wondered what I felt more: flattered that he wanted me, or annoyed that could be the only thing he wanted from me. Truthfully, I couldn’t tell which was better. I hadn’t stopped thinking about his hands on my body, pressing me up against that brick wall.
I started sweeping up, distracted by the fact that Noah was only a few feet away. I imagined him quietly pushing open the theater door, sneaking up behind me, and fucking me right there in the fourth row. It was absurd, and I knew it. I was spending my time daydreaming like a little schoolgirl, just because I got a taste of his body. It was enough to drive me crazy, though. I realized how badly I wanted to see all of him, to see his thick cock, to run my fingers along its length, to taste his skin.
And yet there was his cool distance a few minutes ago. He was constantly vacillating between intense interest and vague dismissal, and I’d only known him for a few weeks. He was a mystery compounded by our parents’ drama, a mystery wrapped in an enigma. I grinned at my own stupid cliché.
The night began to speed by. Noah never came into the theater, never tried to grab me by the hips, and I hardly saw him for the first hour. In fact, when people began to filter in for the first showing, he was nowhere to be seen. He should have been running around supporting everyone, like he had every other night, but he was noticeably absent. That meant I had to do two jobs at once, both taking tickets and supporting the concession stand. I was practically running around like crazy, taking care of everything that I could. Chuck and Mikey helped out, and actually came out from behind the concession stand to make sure the projectors ran smooth. That was usually Noah’s job, but fortunately he had shown Mikey how to do it.
As the theaters filled and the shows began, I went back out into the lobby. As far as I could tell, Miss H hadn’t noticed Noah’s absence. Chuck and Mikey went back behind the stand, screwing around like usual. As I was sweeping up the entrance, I saw him come trotting down the stairs. I glanced over at the Wonder Twins, but they hadn’t noticed him yet. In fact, as far as I could tell, I was the only person who noticed Noah’s reemergence, and I was the only one who seemed to care. Annoyed, I threw him a pissed-off look, but he only grinned and shrugged at me, apparently not bothered that I caught him cheating out on the job.
Where had he gone? He had skipped out during the worst possible time, and put everyone else in a bad position. He had been great every other night, attentive and helpful, so it seemed unlike him to make everyone else’s life harder. I had to admit that it was a new low for him, leaving me to do all the work while he probably took a nap in an empty room. I wasn’t exactly surprised, but I was definitely frustrated. Truthfully, I had been waiting for him to screw up. He had been too nice and too good, and not at all like what everyone said he was. I watched as he ducked into the supply closet, the door shutting behind him.
Frustrated, I walked over to Chuck and Mikey. They were setting up for the next group, popping popcorn and restocking the candy.
“Hey, Chuck,” I called out. He looked over at me and smiled.
“What’s up?”
“Did yo
u see Noah came back?”
He shrugged. “Nah, didn’t see anything. But I’m not surprised.”
Curious, I walked a little bit closer. “Why’s that?”
“He does that sometimes, disappears for like an hour. But he always comes back.”
“Any clue where he goes?”
“Nope, and I don’t really care. The guy’s dad basically owns this place, so I figure he can do whatever he wants.”
That pissed me off even more. It was definitely true that Noah had a bunch of leeway because of his dad, but everyone was basically willing to let him do whatever he wanted? It didn’t seem fair. Not only was he a jerk, but he was a spoiled jerk.
“Okay, thanks Chuck,” I said, wheels spinning in my head.
He gave me a look. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not going to do anything,” I said, acting innocent.
He sighed and shook his head. “Look, don’t bother. He’s not a bad guy. He gets shit done when he needs to. I actually think he gets a bad rep for no good reason.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” I said vaguely, a bit surprised. It was strange that Chuck was defending him, especially considering he had to work twice as hard to make up for Noah’s absence. As far as I could tell, Noah was nothing but a pain in everyone’s ass, and very occasionally a good employee.
I gave Chuck a wave and headed back toward the supply closet. Noah had gone in a few minutes before, and I was already wondering why he hadn’t come out. Maybe everyone else was willing to let him do whatever he wanted, but I wasn’t about to give in to his bullshit. He may have made my heart pound every time he stood near, and gave me one of the best orgasms of my life, but I still had to work with him. He was charming and tall and strong, but that didn’t mean he could mess around.
I pushed open the supply closet door and was immediately assaulted by a thick cloud of pungent weed smoke.
“Holy shit,” I said, waving my hand in front of my face as the door shut behind me.
“What’s up, dots?”
I stared, open mouthed, as Noah sat on a small step stool, taking a hit of a joint.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I said, pissed beyond belief. Not only had he skipped out on everyone, but he decided to get high, too? That was beyond unacceptable.
He looked around like I was talking to someone else.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You can’t smoke in here, let alone smoke pot.”
He laughed. “Calm yourself, dots. It’s just a little weed.”
“What if someone smelled it?”
“Everyone is in those theaters for the next two hours. The smell will be long gone by then.”
He stood up and stretched, taking another deep hit.
“Oh my god, Noah, put that shit out.”
Shrugging, he licked his fingers then pinched the end. He pulled a plastic bag from his back pocket, dropped the pinched joint in, and slipped it away.
“You are unbelievable,” I said, practically shaking with fury.
“Calm down, dots. I do this all the time.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down, this is so fucking stupid. And where did you go earlier?”
He stepped closer to me, his eyes suddenly intense. “You look fucking cute when you’re angry.”
I stepped back, putting more distance between us. I wasn’t letting him charm his way out of anything.
“Answer me, where did you go?”
“I had some shit to take care of.”
“So that’s fine, you can just run off and skip out on work? Smoke some weed in the supply closet?”
He shook his head. “I’ve had a bad night, dots. I don’t need this from you.”
“You’ve had a bad night? Poor baby, must be rough smoking whenever you feel like it, and coming and going as you please.”
I was pissed. He was so spoiled and entitled, and such an asshole. And he was trying to defend himself too, which only made it worse. I couldn’t believe I was hung up on him, when he was nothing but a rich jerk. He may have been beautiful, but he was beyond frustrating.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, dots.”
He suddenly looked sad, and it surprised me for a second. I almost wanted to apologize. But I wasn’t the one in the wrong. I wasn’t the one smoking up the supply closet and skipping out on work.
“Stop calling me that, Noah.”
He sighed, and looked away. I couldn’t read the expression on his face, but his body was tense.
“Fine, Linda. I’m getting back to work.”
I almost said something mean, something I would have regretted, but the look on his face made me bite my tongue. He moved past me, his shoulder brushing against mine, and he stepped out into the lobby. The smoke dissipated, scattering out into the theater’s ventilation system, and I hoped none of the customers would notice it.
I sat down on the stool, shaking with anger and confusion. I couldn’t believe him. I knew he had a bad reputation, I knew he did some shit that I didn’t necessarily agree with, but I didn’t realize he was out and out irresponsible. Missing class began to make sense: he was a flake, a player, and he did whatever he wanted. It wasn’t like I cared about smoking weed. Everyone knew that wasn’t a huge deal. But smoking on the job, and leaving all the work to your friends, that wasn’t right. I thought we were beginning to have something, and then he decided to take advantage of me.
All so he could get a little fucked up.
It took me a few minutes to get myself under control. Finally, though, the frustration and the anger subsided into a dull ache. Pushing out of the supply closet and moving out into the lobby, I vowed not to give him any more notes from our class, and I wasn’t going to cover for him again. Let him figure his shit out on his own. I was done doing favors for him if he was just going to skip out on me during the busiest times.
I went back to work, and ignored Noah the best I could. It was easy, since he was clearly not too happy with me. We orbited each other for the rest of the night, doing our jobs, and only interacting when we absolutely had to. Chuck and Mikey kept throwing each other exaggerated looks, and I could only imagine what sort of jokes they were making about us, but I didn’t care. I was sick to death of Noah Carterson, of his drama and his mystery, especially if he was going to fuck me over.
The night dragged on. It was uncomfortable at first, but I quickly learned to adapt. Noah didn’t disappear again, although he didn’t seem particularly motivated to get much done. He helped out, but he was lazy about it, and he kept stealing snacks from the concession stand. Chuck and Mikey thought it was hilarious; even Chelsea didn’t seem to mind much. During the last show, I stood outside of the box office, leaning against the glass and watching Noah throw popcorn at Chuck. I let out an annoyed huff.
“They can be real idiots, huh?” Chelsea asked me.
“You’re not kidding.”
“They’re just going to have to clean all that up, anyway.”
“Noah will probably leave early and make me do it,” I grumbled.
“Trouble in paradise?”
I looked in at her, and she was grinning at me.
“What do you mean?”
“Noah told me about you guys.”
I looked at her, surprised. Noah had talked about me? As far as I knew, there was nothing to tell.
“What did he say?”
She cocked her head at me. “Just that he’s been trying to see more of you. Like, you guys might be a thing, or whatever.”
We might be a thing or whatever? He hadn’t said any of that to me. In fact, he hadn’t talked to me about him and I at all, never even bothered to bring it up. But he was talking to Chelsea about it? I had to admit, as pissed as I was at him, I was pretty confused. And I was partially elated. He wanted to have something with me, whatever that meant. I figured it had to be something more than just hooking up, or else he wouldn’t bother telling someone about it.
“Oh yeah,
totally,” I said, trying to be evasive. “Are you two close?”
She shrugged. “We’ve been friends ever since he helped tutor me in math last year. He’s how I got this job, actually.”
“Noah tutored you in math?” I honestly didn’t believe her.
She laughed. “Yeah, he did. Despite what everyone says about him, he’s actually pretty smart.”
I grinned. “I thought the tattoos made him a little slow.”
“Oh, they did. He was a genius before he got inked.”
I laughed. “I have to ask, what else did he say about me?
“He can be a little mysterious, can’t he?”
“Yeah. And an asshole.”
“He can definitely be an asshole,” she said, smiling. “Look, you’ll have to ask him if you want to know.”
“Okay, thanks. I understand.”
“But, I will say that you should cut him some slack. He’s not such a bad guy, underneath all the pot smoke and tattoos.”
I sighed, watching him toss a kernel into the air and catch it in his perfectly formed mouth. Every once in a while, when his guard was down, Noah gave me a glimpse into the person he might actually be. They were small moments, spread far apart, but they were there and they were important. I was pissed at him, but I didn’t hate him. I knew there was something more going on, but I was getting tired of having to work to strip off the extra layers of narrative and image to get at the core of him.
“I will. Thanks, Chelsea.”
She smiled. “Any time.”
I stood up to go, giving her a smile.
“Hey, stop by here more often,” she said before I could walk off. “I’m bored as shit in here.”
I laughed and promised I would. I moved across the lobby, heading toward the projection room to make sure everything was running smoothly. As I walked by, Noah gave me a little half smile, and it didn’t make me want to smack him in the face. That was progress.
The rest of the night flew by. I had plenty to obsess about to keep my mind off of the boredom of work. I kept avoiding Noah, and he kept his distance, but I felt the cold ache of anger begin to subside. As I began to do the final sweep of the theaters, I felt like a teenager, trying to read signs that might not have been there, and hanging on every little thing he said.
