Homewrecker

40 - 𝓭𝓸𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓭

After nearly an hour of asking customers to open their trunks and pointing our flashlights in the general directions of the movie screens they were headed for, and then another hour of wandering the Starbright property with Ethan on his Segway beside me, waiting to stumble across someone with their lights on the screen or smoking, we decided to go for our break before intermission when more cars might come in for the second showing.

We weren't always talking to each other, although Ethan did go back to the cuts on his hands and his rock, paper, scissors theory as we were walking, or I was, anyway, but the silence between us wasn't uncomfortable or awkward like it always seemed to be before. It was easier than I thought, to bridge that gap from whatever we were before to what was starting to look like friendship now.

"I don't know if I should bring up what happened or if I should just say hi or something first," I said to him after I pulled out my phone, realizing that Kingston still hadn't texted or called me since last night, and Ethan caught my disappointed expression. "Should I apologize?"

He shook his head, weaving his Segway around a crack in the pavement. "Don't apologize for not wanting to have sex with him when you were drunk. Just be honest with him, and if you feel that bad about it, apologize for walking out instead of being honest last night when you realized it was a bad idea."

I brought up the text messages between him and me on my phone, my fingers pausing when I readied myself to type out something, anything, then shook my head. "I don't know."

"Come on, you're honest to a fault. This should be easy for you."

"Yeah, but this sounds too honest. Like, personally honest and I don't how to do that."

He spun around on the Segway to face me, resuming the deadpanned expression I was beginning to recognize come over his features whenever I said something he disagreed with, or, whenever he thought I was retreating back into my shell like an emotional turtle. "You like him, don't you?" When I didn't respond, he moved forward on the Segway, so he nearly bumped into me, purposefully. Disgruntled, I nodded. "So, you should want to be personally honest with him. That's how a relationship works."

I made a face. "We don't have a relationship."

"No, but you want one."

"Relationships are a lot of work, responsibility, commitment. And it's not like I have a good example of what one looks like. I just want . . . fun, casual flirting, maybe hanging out sometimes."

Ethan nodded. "Okay, so tell him."

"Yeah, but what if that's not what he wants?"

"It sounds like it is, because last night, he was ready to have sex with you in a bathroom."

"But maybe he changed his mind after I freaked out on him, or maybe he just wanted to have sex? Have you ever had sex, or wanted to have sex, with someone you didn't want to . . . hang out with?"

"Nope." When I raised an eyebrow at him, he nodded earnestly. "No, seriously. Sure, I've found some girls attractive that I didn't want anything with, but I've never wanted to actually sleep with a girl unless I was really into her. And I definitely wouldn't want to have sex in a bathroom at a party unless I was very into her. Would practically have to be in love at that point."

I made another face, groaning. "Don't talk about love, I just want simple! And Kingston was that, until now, anyway."

We were approaching the concession stand, the gold tinted light from inside stretching out over the pavement of the vacant parking spaces outside through the windows, and through the smudged glass of the front doors, I caught a glimpse of Andi. She was restocking the display case of boxed candies, balancing a cardboard box on her hip as she slid in a row of Cookie Dow Bites.