This is probably awful, but I was bored. Enjoy!
You'll have fun.
Nobody could possible understand how tired I am of the phrase. You'll have fun – it's what Jake tells me when I'm not too keen on what we're doing on a date. First it was kick boxing, then it was go-karting. Tell me, where's the simple dates – the movie nights in, the cheap Chinese outings, the walks around downtown, the "Friends" marathons on the couch. Sometimes when I look at him, I wonder how I ended up with him; Jake's stocky and brawny with a dislike for old movies and a zero tolerance for Chinese food. He prefers Mexican.
"Ari," he says, tugging on my hand to lead me into the cinema complex in downtown Rosewood. I've never told him I hate the nickname. To me, it's more pointless than endearing. Ari's only a letter away from Aria. "Hurry or they'll be sold out."
"I highly doubt White House Down will be entirely sold out a week after it's opening. It's no Gatsby."
He shoots me a pointed look and I shrug. Don't get me wrong – Jake is considerate and sweet, at least when he's not being condescending. But the cold hard fact is simple; he's not Ezra. In the beginning he was a good distraction, but as time passes, I wonder if I'll ever be able to feel the multide of for him of what I felt….feel…for Ezra.
"I don't know why you're so obsessed with that Gatsby thing or whatever. It's a sappy romance."
It's hard to hide the grimace on my face. But I'm not about to try and explain the complexities of The Great Gatsby to someone who cares more about the number of pounds he lifted that morning rather than literature. I've tried before – it's a hopeless cause. Instead I settle for silence as he pays for two tickets and heads off towards the concession stand, leaving me in his wake.
Contrary to belief, being with Jake is the hardest thing I've had to do. Well, second hardest. Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard if I didn't go to school and face the reason I had searched for a rebound in the first place. It's hard to try not to compare him to Ezra. It's even harder to refrain from pretending it's Ezra when he kisses me or pulls me into his side.
The most difficult thing is to know that it's his hand I'm holding.
Leading him on is that last thing on my agenda, but I don't know how far Jake and my relationship with spawn. It's not fair of me to keep him when he's not what I want.
But it's not fair to Ezra to make him wait six months for my graduation. He should be able to move on, to provide for the family he's attained without the complication of a seventeen year old girl that would put him at risk.
My heart's constantly a game of tug of war, but neither side is making any headway or has an advantage over the over.
As my eyes scan the room for Jake's return, with a large tub of popcorn in his arms no doubt, a shock of dark brown hair catches my eye. His hand is curled around a small box of chocolate covered cookie dough bites. The hair plus choice of snack is all I need to gather as to who the man is – Ezra. My heart thumps and pounds in my chest, my hands turn sweaty. If I were to hold something in the palm of them, it might just slip from the shaky grasp. It grows worse when his gaze turns to me, blue eyes boring into my hazel. I bite my lip and he gives me a small smile before ducking into his movie; The Great Gatsby. A part of me hoped he'd be seeing whatever Jake's dragging me along to, but Ezra isn't the action movie kind of guy. It was one of the things I loved about him – how he prefered It Happened One Night to The Hangover. The extent of his action movie viewings are old western films.
"Back," Jake chimes, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth and chewing loudly. By the time I look back over to him, Ezra is gone from my line of vision and into his theatre. A repress a sigh, hoping that Jake didn't see him go in, much less exit the concession line minutes before. "Want some?" He pushes the tub in my face. I shake my head.
"I'm good." Popcorn is the last thing on my mind.
A half hour later, I find myself struggling to stay awake in the lull of commercials that play before the actual film starts. Jake seems enthralled by all the future action packed options he has to choose from, nudging me when he spots something he likes. "We should see that," he whispers to me every so often. Not once has he offered to see something I'd like.
The film begins with a picteresque day in Washington D.C. before chaos erupts. Jake puts his arm around the back of my chair, but I don't lean into it. Instead, I rest my cheek in the palm of my hand to keep it busy from it reaching into my purse to send a few quicks texts out as a distraction. I've done it before – he berates me for it with a lecture after the film is over. Sometimes I wonder how someone so childish can be twenty five years old.
The movie explodes, gunshots playing on the surround sound speakers. It's blood and gore from here on out – two of my least favorite things. It's not long until I excuse myself to the bathroom. However, I'm not sure when and if I'll be going back to my cushioned seat.
With quick steps I exit the theatre en route to the bathroom when I collide head on with someone.
"Dear God," the person mutters in a deep, but soft voice. My heart stops again – I know that voice. I've heard that voice say my name a million times. "I'm s—so sorry."
"It's fine," I say nonchalantly, reaching out a hand to pull him up to his feet. It's the least I can do for knocking him over. It takes Ezra a moment to gain his bearings before he takes a good look at me. I half expect him to drop my hand, but he doesn't once he sees my face. Instead, his thumb moves in smooth circles. Our eyes meet – it's almost impossible to look away.
"Aria," he says constrictedly.
"Ezra," I nod. My eyes fall quickly to his lips. They've been the only thing I've wanted for the past couple of weeks. I miss the electric spark that erupts when our lips meet one another's. I miss the way his hands roam up and down my back while we're locked in a heated embrace.
Ezra drops my hand, his eyes dropping from mine as well. "How're you?" It's our first conversation that hasn't involved me sitting behind a desk and him in his tie.
"I'm alright," I say back, not wanting to give to much away.
"What's he like?" He doesn't skirt around the subject of Jake, making me laugh. I can sense his jealously – something that makes me revel inside. I had hoped it would spur a reaction from him.
There's only one answer I can give to him to sum Jake up. "He's not you." A reflective sadness falls onto my face. I miss how easy things used to be with him – I never had to pretend to be someone I'm not or tone down my so-called quirkiness while with Ezra. With Jake, it's almost as if I have to assimilate to his interests or the way he lives his life. I was me when I was with Ezra as well as being a couple. I miss feeling good about myself rather than feeling like I'm always wrong. I miss being loved tenderly, not rushed and forced into things I'm not ready for.
Apparently, my words are enough incentive for him to crash his lips against mine. In any other circumstance, a public display would have been dangerous. But in an empty movie theatre lobby, it's perfect. I go up on tip toe, despite my clunky heeled boots and throw my arms around his neck, kissing back as vigorously as possible. His fingers clench at my back, the material of my shirt puckering under his touch. It's almost too much fo me to bear, but I continue anyways.
Our lips meld together just like they always have. I'm not mad at myself for giving in, especially when it's been something I've clambered after for weeks. Ezra's tongue asks for entrance, which I readily give to him. Our tongues battle for what seems like hours on end until we finally pull away from one another, foreheads resting together. His lips are just as swollen as mine feel.
"Come home with me," he breathes.
"But your movie…"
"I'd take you over Daisy any day."
I press my lips back to his and take his had. Knowing Jake is still watching the movie, I make a mental note to text him and say I felt sick and went home.
I'm not lying, I am going home – home is where the heart is and my heart happens to be in Ezra's palm.