Headlights

09 Midnight

She wished she knew exactly what she was going to do about all these feelings about him.

This time, he didn't insist on being chivalrous. She opened the passenger door herself, walking out as gracefully as she could. Her heels were already killing her and her legs were wobbling. As her ankles gave out, she grabbed onto the rearview mirror, shaking as she felt him run to her and hold her up gingerly by the waist. Déjà vu hit again.

As they stood together, pressed against the car like a pair of horny teenagers, she looked up and met his eyes squarely. She could stay like this forever. He moved slowly, but she didn't stop him when he kissed her gently, letting go of her waist, instead holding her chin and head. They stayed there, and she almost forgot reality.

But then he stepped away so abruptly that she stumbled again. This time, he wasn't there to catch her. Her chest stung as she grabbed onto the car again, watching as he walked off to the entrance of the theater, whose board proudly proclaimed "Showing of Rebel without a Cause Tonight". She shivered, and then hurried to follow him inside.

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He offered her his arm once they were standing in line at the admissions booth. He stared ahead, refusing to look at her as she fiddled with the clasps on her purse. She tried to convince herself that she was looking for her lipstick, her favorite occupation, but she knew the truth – she didn't want to look at him again without seeing those eyes.

It was surprisingly crowded in the hall, although it was the midnight showing of an older movie. She supposed it was because it was James Dean – no, she couldn't go down that road. Not after so many references his family had made during that family gathering.

"Would you like any snacks?" he asked. She started, clutching his arm even more vehemently. She hadn't heard his voice in so long. It only reminded her of their car ride to the cabin when he started humming...

He looked at her more expectantly when she didn't respond immediately. "Hailey?"

Don't say my name, she thought. I'll only want you to say more. And that wouldn't end well for either of us.

She forced herself to clear her throat. "Do they offer white wine?"

He nodded. She tried not to be too obsessed with his jawline. "They'll serve alcoholic drinks at the tables before the movie starts."

They weren't even at a normal theater, were they? They were at one of the formal theaters that reminded her of the television shows. So that was why they both had dressed up slightly, and that was why she didn't see any teenagers in the crowd. And if she had bothered to pay attention instead of stumbling like an idiot, the parking lot was filled with expensive cars that looked foreign, flashing and shining like the owners themselves in their evening dresses.

"Where did you find this place?"

He swallowed. "It was before... Christmas Eve, and I thought it was funny how my parents mentioned James Dean so often with you. I thought maybe we could watch together on the big screen."

God, how would she respond to that? She licked her lips nervously and opened her mouth to say something, anything, but the person in the booth called them up. She held her breath as Calvin turned in their tickets. She hadn't thought of all the minefields that they could set off together by spending one last date with him, especially in a little place like this.

They followed the usher into the theater itself, where there were little tables for two with candles a stand holding cards with numbers in the middle. Calvin reached into a vase, evidently for the public, and produced a red rose with eyes so intense that she lost her breath for a second. "For you," he said, his voice low, as the usher stopped to check the number of their table.