Shane tilts his head, looking surprised. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you in a vehicle of any kind.”
Glad of this conversational opener, I explain my stance on the decadence of private cars burning fossil fuels. Cars also have pretty awful associations for me; my dad died in one. They took me away in one to foster care. When I was with my mom, I never rode in one, but afterward … well. That kind of stuff is too dark for a first date. Fortunately, Shane seems interested in the constructive reasons behind my boycott. This discussion carries us halfway downtown, mostly because he asks smart questions about how I cope in a small town with limited options for public transportation.
“It’s not easy,” I admit. “But I can ride my bike most places, and if I can’t, then I just don’t go. My aunt and I have taken the train to the city a few times, though.” I add the last part so he doesn’t think I advocate traveling by wagon.
“I admire your dedication,” Shane says, smiling.
My weirdness probably also takes the pressure off him to have a car. Since he knows I don’t want any part of that, he can’t imagine the date would go better if he had a sweet ride. A few minutes later, he takes my hand in a casual gesture. Did he think about it at all or reach for me instinctively?
At night, the Capitol looks cool with the white bulbs surrounding the marquee. Darkness softens the dilapidated lines, lending the old building a certain grace. Ryan and I came here occasionally when there was a show we wanted to see, so I’m used to half the town turning out to buy tickets. Tonight, according to the misspelled title on the sign, there’s a horror movie playing. I have no desire to see it, but I do want to sit in the dark with Shane. Somewhere in front, Ryan’s laugh rings out. I stretch up on my tiptoes and spy Gwen, Kenny, and Tara, along with my former best friend; I can’t tell if they’re on a double date, but I smother a laugh. At least it’s legal for Ryan to date Gwen. Given Tara’s general indifference to Kenny’s interest, I figure they’re just all hanging out. Shane’s brows draw together, probably wondering why I’m laughing, then he spots the group ahead of us.
“They’re funny for some reason?” he asks.
“It’s just ironic to see Ryan here when I’m trying to avoid him. But it’s a small town.” I shrug, wishing I could explain fully.
Shane nods, like this makes perfect sense. But if he can accept my other off-kilter ideas and my refusal to ride in a car, he likely thinks this is just a postscript to strangeness. We move up as the cashier processes others ahead, then it’s our turn at the window.
“Two, please.” He speaks for both of us before I can even touch my wallet.
“Eight dollars.”
Shane passes the girl a crumpled bill and she gives him back some change. So I murmur my thanks as we pass through the gilded doors into the faded luxury of the lobby. I nearly bump into Gwen, who doesn’t register anything odd about the fact that she’s with Ryan and I’m not.
She beams a Colgate smile. “I didn’t know you guys were coming. You want to find some seats while we get the junk food? We can settle up inside.”
Ha, this could be awkward. I’m not having my first date with Shane while Ryan looks on from three seats over.
“Thanks for the offer,” Shane says, surprising me, “but we’re fine.”
Since Gwen tends to boss people around, she likely gets that response a lot, so she just smiles and waves. Ryan watches us walk away, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not happy that Shane’s still holding my hand. The theater is already half full as we step into the aisle. He glances up and down before leading me to the left side of the theater. These rows are short—only four seats—compared to the ones in the center and we sit in the middle two seats, which should make it awkward for anyone to join us.
“Do you want popcorn or anything?” Shane asks, as we sit down.