Make believe

Chapter 11

Luke had told me he'd let me pick which movie we'd see; now that's a lot of pressure to put on someone. What if I chose the wrong one? Yes, I know I couldn't actually choose wrongly, but I had no idea what kind of films he was even in to. Personally, I think you can tell a lot about a person by the kind of films they watch, or music they listen to. There's like, this piece of the person in their favorite movie; you can almost get a feel for their personality by knowing what they love to watch and don't watch. I rambled on and on in my head of the importance of films and their meanings as I walked down the street which, was buzzing with people. The harsh wind whipped my hair in to the air and pulled on the ends of my dress. Checking my watch, I saw it was 7:45; we had planned to meet at 8:00. I would be arriving a tad early. I had slept late that morning, finally pulling myself from the bed at around 1:00. All day, I had just layed around, watching movies and eating carrots until it was time to get ready for the movie.

I was well rested and ready for the night. Slowly, the theatre came in to view and I took a left, crossing the street. The theatre was extremely busy, people milling about with their friends. There were long lines to purchase tickets, and an even longer line to buy any sort of snack. Photo booths were lined up along the far right wall, being consumed with groups of friends giggling and posing. I scanned the crowded area for a spot to stand and wait for Luke. Deciding to lean against a near-by column, I waited a measly three minutes until I spotted someone in the crowd that looked vaguely like Luke. Trying to find the blonde boy again, my eyes landed on Luke. Yes, that was definitely Luke.

I began walking forward to the tall figure leaning against the wall near the entrance. How did I miss him? As I neared, his eye caught mine.

"Laraine." He acknowledged, smiling a small small. "Afternoon." He stood up straight, regaining his full height, causing me to strain my neck to make eye contact with him. He was wearing a navy blue and white plaid shirt, a change from all the tank tops he usually wears. His hair, surprisingly, wasn't spiked. It was hanging naturally, a mop of blonde hair slightly combed to the side. He smiled, slight dimples beginning to show themselves.

"Hey Luke." I smiled. "How are you?"

"Good. I'm good." He nodded. "Didn't do much today. I slept 'till three." He said smirking to himself. "What about you? How's Laraine?"

I giggled at his choice of wording. "Uh, yeah, good. I finally got up at around 1:00, so uh, I slept late too." I smiled, beaming. "Not as late as you, obviously." I added.

He laughed, and we carried on small talk for a few more minutes until he cleared his throat.

"So, what are we seeing?"

I gave him an unsure look .

"I want you to choose, Laraine." He said softly. Luke guided me over to where all the movie posters were lined across the wall.  The first one was advertising some cartoon looking movie. Disney, probably. In all honsety, I would've been just fine with a cute, light film like that one, but I kept walking, trying to look uninterested. We came to a poster containing some faceless, muscular man whose hands were clasping two machetes. He was in some forest, where the sky was dark and the trees eerie. I quickly walked passed that one. The next one was a photo of some woman in bed, the sheets wrapped scandally around the blonde, with the words "Sensual Visits" above her. There were kids around there! They needed to take that particular poster down. I glanced to Luke, noticing him staring at the poster, a blank look on his face.

He must've seen me watching him out of the corner of his eye, because suddnely, he averted his gaze, looking from me to the ground, to the people around us.

"Not that one." I muttered, more to myself to him, as I carelessly took his hand, leading him farther down the line. We came to the next poster and stood side by side, silently debating if it was worth spending twenty dollars to see. It's then I realized we were still holding hands; or I was still holding his. Feeling heat rise in my cheeks, I quickly pulled my hand away and began apalogizing.