The Queen of Bright and Shiny Things

I shake my head. “We can have a snack at my house after the movie.”


There’s no way my aunt will be home before eleven, and it’ll be more like ten for us, even with the walk. That gives us some time alone, which makes me nervous and excited at the same time. With some guys, I’d worry about the message I’m sending, inviting him back to my house with nobody else around, but Shane won’t pounce on me like a leopard. I’ve already been alone with him at his place, and he only touched me when I hugged him.

“Is that the plan?”

“If you want,” I add, hoping I haven’t assumed too much.

“Sounds good.”

He’s still holding my hand, and I’m aware of how much longer his fingers are than mine, slender and graceful; he has a musician’s hands, with calluses that aren’t just from playing guitar. He has those, too, but his palms are hard as well. I feel like fidgeting in my seat, but since he’s calm, I pretend I am, too. I wonder if he has any idea how new all of this is to me. His comment about needing a friend echoes in my head. Still, a guy doesn’t act like this with a girl unless he’s dating her. Right? I study him out of the corner of my eye, trying to decide.

The previews start before I get too nervous, giving us something to look at besides each other. There’s the usual product placement and trailers for flicks not yet released. Eventually the scary stuff starts, and I remember why I hate this kind of movie. I’m really susceptible, so I’m always the first one to jump or scream, but it’s not all bad because halfway through the movie, Shane puts his arm around me and his thigh bumps against mine. My heart’s not racing from the creepy noises anymore.

Forty-five minutes later, it turns out the nerdy guy was the killer, which surprises no one, but I have the shivers as we file out with the rest of the audience. I can stand monster movies better because they aren’t real, but you never know when an actual psycho could be lurking in the bushes.

“What did you think?” Shane asks. “Worth the price of admission?”

“I was confused as to who was doing it until I realized that Reggie knew too much about the crime scenes. Overall it wasn’t bad.”

He grins down at me. “You hid your face through all of the murders.”

Yeah, I did. I regret nothing. I can still feel the warmth of his shoulder against my cheek and the smell of his freshly washed shirt. The night is chilly, and I wish I’d worn a heavier coat. But that just makes me walk faster, putting distance behind us. It’s half past nine by now, and I’m hungry, as I was too nervous to eat dinner before Shane picked me up.

“I’m a wimp,” I admit.

“It’s sweet. Will your aunt mind my coming over so late?”

“No.” That’s probably true, though she would prefer to meet him before leaving us alone together. “But she’s on a date.”

“So no awkward introductions tonight?”

“You dodged that bullet,” I tell him. “What’re you doing tomorrow?”

Belatedly I realize he might think I’m trying to lock him in for a second date and I stutter-step. I don’t want him to think I’m desperate or anything. Luckily Shane doesn’t notice my nerves. The sky has clouded over while we were inside and a light drizzle sprinkles down on us. I hope it doesn’t pour before we get to my house. I walk faster; this is the downside of my vehicular limitations.

“It’s my first night at the P&K. I’m working three shifts a week to start. The manager said I might get more hours if I’m reliable.”

“Will that be enough to help?”

“Hell yeah. It’s close to two hundred bucks a week, before taxes.” In the moonlight, relief shines from his blue eyes.

“Do you get a store discount?”

“I wish,” Shane says. “But no. Though I can have first pick of day-old pastries from the bakery, once they’re marked down.”

“You will live on donuts,” I predict.

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