Very Bad Things
Page 33
“Don’t get the Milk Duds,” I said, sliding in to stand beside her.
She jumped a little when I spoke, but then looked me over coolly. “Really. Why not?”
“Because they’re called duds, so they can’t be good, right? Think about it, you know the milk part means chocolate, but what exactly is a dud? They should have called it Milk Loser. Means the same thing.”
“You’d prefer Milk Winner?”
I laughed. “Sounds better to me.”
“You should call Hershey’s and give them some consumer input,” she said with a small mouth twitch.
I chuckled and stared into her green eyes, and dammit, I didn’t want to, but I ended up naming all the flecks of colors I saw there: blue, brown, and aqua. I cringed inwardly . . . what guy thinks aqua?
“You’re pretty opinioned about candy, Leo.”
“That’s what happens when you own a fitness club.”
Her eyes widened. “If you brought raw nuts and celery, I’m never speaking to you again.”
I leaned in conspiratorially, feeling playful with her. “Shhh, it’s against the rules to sneak in food.”
She shook her head at me, her smile tilting up just a little bit more, and I found myself wanting to put a full grin on her face.
“Okay, what should I get?” she asked.
“Popcorn, of course, it’s a movie classic.”
“Butter?” she asked.
“It’s got about three days worth of artery clogging fat, plus trans fat and salt. I wouldn’t recommend it,” I said, chuckling at her dismayed face. I loved buttered popcorn, but I liked bantering with her.
She grimaced. “Okay, Dr. Oz, but what about the movie experience? Popcorn without butter is weird. And if I say something is weird, it really is.”
I laughed. “I would avoid the Raisinets, too.”
“This should be interesting,” she said, her eyes sparkling with glee. Ah, she liked my teasing.
I pointed at the raisin on the box we could see through the glass case. “Think about it. Underneath that chocolate is a small, dark, shriveled up food thing that used to be fat and juicy. But they fiddled with it. Tweaked it. Makes you wonder what else they did.”
“You know, you’re really starting to be a dud here,” she said, snickering.
“You guys are so cute. How long have you been dating?” asked the girl working the concessions, who’d been watching the back and forth between us.
Nora shot me a grin. “Him? Nah. He’s too old for me.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “There’s only seven years between us.”
“Six,” she said softly, looking shy all of a sudden.
“How’s that?” I asked.
“Today’s my birthday,” she said, shrugging. “I’m nineteen now.”
I stared at her blankly. Damn. Buttercup was a whole year older than I’d thought.
Nora turned to the counter girl. “I’ll take the extra large combo with a Diet Coke. Make it buttered, please.”
“Are you seeing Casablanca or O Brother, Where Art Thou?” I asked as the girl turned to make her soda.
“O Brother. What’s not to love about bluegrass and Homer? And George Clooney? Only one of the sexiest guys ever.”
I looked at her in surprise.
“What? You don’t think Clooney is hot? He is kinda old, I guess,” she chuckled, shooting me a little smirk.
“Just never took you for a Cohen Brothers fan . . . and, no, I do not think Clooney is hot.”
She laughed.
The counter girl put the huge tray down on the counter. “That’ll be twenty-six dollars.”
“We’ll take another soda, please,” I said, pulling out my wallet. I paid the new total and picked up the tray.
She looked at me with wide eyes. “Thanks for paying for mine, but you didn’t have to. It’s not like we’re on a date,” she said, following me as we turned around to head for the theaters.
“Yeah, well, we’re seeing the same movie, we may as well sit together,” I heard myself say.
She peered around me, like she was looking for someone. “Won’t Tiffany be mad?”
I cracked my neck and tried to sound nonchalant. Truthfully, I hadn’t asked Tiffany to come. “She couldn’t make it.”
She stood there for a moment, and I felt this prickle of unease go up my spine. Damn, was she here on a date? It was her birthday.
“Mila had to cancel on me and go to a family function,” she said. “So I guess this is a date.”
I tried to come up with a smart comeback, but I had nothing. What I should have said was hell no, this ain’t no date. But it seemed that being near her made me do insane shit. Truthfully, I felt a little intoxicated from being near her.
We walked in and found seats. She placed our large drinks in the cup holders while I balanced the tray on my legs.
“It’s hot in here,” she murmured, slipping out of her sweater and my eyes bulged at her tiny shirt. Shit, where was the rest of it? I fidgeted in my seat, cursing my body’s reaction to her. Thank fuck, we had an arm-rest between us. I still scooted as far from her as I could.
The lights dimmed and the movie previews started, but I couldn’t stop myself from sneaking glances at her, watching her as she watched the screen.
“It’s rude to stare, you know,” she said, taking a sip of her soda. I watched how her lips wrapped around the straw.
She jumped a little when I spoke, but then looked me over coolly. “Really. Why not?”
“Because they’re called duds, so they can’t be good, right? Think about it, you know the milk part means chocolate, but what exactly is a dud? They should have called it Milk Loser. Means the same thing.”
“You’d prefer Milk Winner?”
I laughed. “Sounds better to me.”
“You should call Hershey’s and give them some consumer input,” she said with a small mouth twitch.
I chuckled and stared into her green eyes, and dammit, I didn’t want to, but I ended up naming all the flecks of colors I saw there: blue, brown, and aqua. I cringed inwardly . . . what guy thinks aqua?
“You’re pretty opinioned about candy, Leo.”
“That’s what happens when you own a fitness club.”
Her eyes widened. “If you brought raw nuts and celery, I’m never speaking to you again.”
I leaned in conspiratorially, feeling playful with her. “Shhh, it’s against the rules to sneak in food.”
She shook her head at me, her smile tilting up just a little bit more, and I found myself wanting to put a full grin on her face.
“Okay, what should I get?” she asked.
“Popcorn, of course, it’s a movie classic.”
“Butter?” she asked.
“It’s got about three days worth of artery clogging fat, plus trans fat and salt. I wouldn’t recommend it,” I said, chuckling at her dismayed face. I loved buttered popcorn, but I liked bantering with her.
She grimaced. “Okay, Dr. Oz, but what about the movie experience? Popcorn without butter is weird. And if I say something is weird, it really is.”
I laughed. “I would avoid the Raisinets, too.”
“This should be interesting,” she said, her eyes sparkling with glee. Ah, she liked my teasing.
I pointed at the raisin on the box we could see through the glass case. “Think about it. Underneath that chocolate is a small, dark, shriveled up food thing that used to be fat and juicy. But they fiddled with it. Tweaked it. Makes you wonder what else they did.”
“You know, you’re really starting to be a dud here,” she said, snickering.
“You guys are so cute. How long have you been dating?” asked the girl working the concessions, who’d been watching the back and forth between us.
Nora shot me a grin. “Him? Nah. He’s too old for me.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “There’s only seven years between us.”
“Six,” she said softly, looking shy all of a sudden.
“How’s that?” I asked.
“Today’s my birthday,” she said, shrugging. “I’m nineteen now.”
I stared at her blankly. Damn. Buttercup was a whole year older than I’d thought.
Nora turned to the counter girl. “I’ll take the extra large combo with a Diet Coke. Make it buttered, please.”
“Are you seeing Casablanca or O Brother, Where Art Thou?” I asked as the girl turned to make her soda.
“O Brother. What’s not to love about bluegrass and Homer? And George Clooney? Only one of the sexiest guys ever.”
I looked at her in surprise.
“What? You don’t think Clooney is hot? He is kinda old, I guess,” she chuckled, shooting me a little smirk.
“Just never took you for a Cohen Brothers fan . . . and, no, I do not think Clooney is hot.”
She laughed.
The counter girl put the huge tray down on the counter. “That’ll be twenty-six dollars.”
“We’ll take another soda, please,” I said, pulling out my wallet. I paid the new total and picked up the tray.
She looked at me with wide eyes. “Thanks for paying for mine, but you didn’t have to. It’s not like we’re on a date,” she said, following me as we turned around to head for the theaters.
“Yeah, well, we’re seeing the same movie, we may as well sit together,” I heard myself say.
She peered around me, like she was looking for someone. “Won’t Tiffany be mad?”
I cracked my neck and tried to sound nonchalant. Truthfully, I hadn’t asked Tiffany to come. “She couldn’t make it.”
She stood there for a moment, and I felt this prickle of unease go up my spine. Damn, was she here on a date? It was her birthday.
“Mila had to cancel on me and go to a family function,” she said. “So I guess this is a date.”
I tried to come up with a smart comeback, but I had nothing. What I should have said was hell no, this ain’t no date. But it seemed that being near her made me do insane shit. Truthfully, I felt a little intoxicated from being near her.
We walked in and found seats. She placed our large drinks in the cup holders while I balanced the tray on my legs.
“It’s hot in here,” she murmured, slipping out of her sweater and my eyes bulged at her tiny shirt. Shit, where was the rest of it? I fidgeted in my seat, cursing my body’s reaction to her. Thank fuck, we had an arm-rest between us. I still scooted as far from her as I could.
The lights dimmed and the movie previews started, but I couldn’t stop myself from sneaking glances at her, watching her as she watched the screen.
“It’s rude to stare, you know,” she said, taking a sip of her soda. I watched how her lips wrapped around the straw.
