"Every key works differently.
I forget every time."

- Ani DiFranco, Dilate


Dinner and a movie: It's about as stereotypical a date as possible, although for some reason Jack finds it hilarious that she loves horror movies. (Her mom had loathed her horror-movie video rentals ever since they'd gotten their Betamax.) "You just don't seem the horror-movie type," he says. They're standing outside the theater in a thick night-time breeze, underneath the marquee.

Juliet tilts her head, wondering. "What type am I?"

Jack glances back up at the movie titles like her identity is something that could be listed on a menu. "I'm still trying to decide that, I guess."

So am I, she thinks. But what he said surprises her; she can already tell that Jack usually prefers (needs) to make up his mind as quickly as possible, for better or worse. She mulls this over and then decides to risk tugging at his hand. "So will you see 'Halloween 5' with me or not?"

He looks back at her and smiles, squeezes her fingers. "That depends. Will you hold my hand at the scary parts?"

She gives herself an imaginary hug, that he wants to hold her hand. "Only if you promise not to cry during them."

The movie turns out to be mind-bendingly awful, and she fully admits afterward that they should have seen "The Abyss" instead. Neither one of them gets to see many movies what with their schedules, because Jack seems to be about as manic about his studies as she is.

Later in the car, as he pulls up outside her building, her stomach lurches because she knows he's going to kiss her. And she wants him to and everything, but it's also been six months since that's happened between them and for some reason it means a little more to her now. Maybe a little more than it should. And she tries to distract herself by running down tomorrow's To Do list (load of whites, chapter 23 in genetics, meet with her group on the Latin project...) but it doesn't quite work.

Jack cuts the engine and turns to her a little more stiffly than she would have expected. Like he's nervous or something. Nervous! "I had a good time tonight," he begins, and it almost sounds like the start of a brush-off, like there's about to be a but. Instead it's "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

She sits back slightly, surprised at his forwardness, but then technically they're not new at this, or at least they've been here before, anyway. She's supposed to go to a party with some people, but... "Nothing much."

"I have an idea."

"Does it involve us not seeing 'Halloween 5' again?"

Jack grins. "How'd you guess?"

"I'm smart," she says boldly, lifting her chin, suddenly infused with a confidence she doesn't quite remember from before. It's all adrenaline but she sort of likes it, her heartrate revved up high like she's made herself jittery with too many cups of coffee.

He inches closer to her, but the center console of the car is still separating them. "Are you going to ask me what we're going to do tomorrow night?"

"Are you not going to tell me?" She senses he's the kind of person who thrives on springing surprises on others.

Jack grins again. "No," he sort of huffs, happily.

Annnd she's right. It's like he's trying to be controlling, but then she's also just a little intrigued that he cares enough about it to want to surprise her. But then this whole thing between them has been full of surprises, both the good kind and the bad kind, and she wonders if the balance will end up shifting. And if it does, which way it's going to go.

The entire time they're creeping closer to each other, and finally he leans down and kisses her, and she thinks, for some reason, of watching him behind thick glass.


The next night he drives them out to the Santa Monica pier. The lights on the carnival rides and the lines of food vendors make her think of being a kid again, like the kind of kid she was before her parents lowered the boom. The wind along the water is chilly and she pulls her cardigan around her arms more snugly. Jack reaches an arm around her, squeezes her opposite shoulder. "Got to keep you warm," he says. "This OK?"

She nods, drawing in closer to him.

"Think you'll be OK on the ferris wheel?"

Her heart skips a beat. "No way."

"What? Don't tell me you're afraid of heights." Jack smiles like he's never heard of something so silly.

"No. I'm afraid of falling." She means it to sound humorous, but the truth is... How many times has she had that nightmare? She knows falling dreams are common, something about the brain not quite being willing to drop off into sleep. But you're not supposed to hit the bottom, and in hers, she always does. Wakes up coughing imaginary blood.

"Come on, it'll be fine." He takes a step toward it, tugs at her arm.

She stays put, her legs slightly apart and bracing against the wood, her knees locked. "Jack, I'm serious."

He stands there like he can't imagine her saying no to him. "Juliet, I'll be right there with - "

"No, Jack." And he tugs on her hand again. Why is it so hard for him to respect her wishes? She can feel her face hardening, and she thinks about all the times in her life she's just given in to what the other person wanted, given in and given in and given in, and kept her mouth shut and kept whatever witty retorts to herself, and she feels some strange pressure against her lungs telling her that she needs to stop always doing that or her life is going to end up being a lot more difficult than it needs to be.

And now, more tonight than ever before, there's this nagging little doubt about Jack, somewhere in the back of her head. That someone who clearly needs to control situations the way Jack does can't possibly be good for someone like her. Unless she learns to stop being so silent all the time. Or at least to somehow leverage that silence into something intimidating and demonstrative in its own way.

(And why is she waging psychological battles with someone she likes, on a date? This can't be a good sign for a relationship, can it?)

She likes him, but she needs to like herself more.

So she stands there, looking him straight in the eye without blinking, until he relents.


They see each other four times in eight days, and they manage to hold off on sex until the third date this time around, which seems like an improvement of sorts. He calls her pretty much every night, and Juliet actually starts to think that maybe this is going to work out after all.

She pretty much floats into her dorm room late Saturday morning, still on a high. Her roommate Penny rolls over in bed. "Your sister called," Penny groans into her pillow. "At eight."

Juliet is flooded with pathetic hope. "I'm really sorry. Did she leave a number?"

"She... she said she'd call back." Penny closes her eyes and rolls over to face the wall.

Juliet hesitates, standing in the middle of the room. Jack's waiting with the car downstairs, and she's supposed to gather her books and go back to his place for a wholesome day of studying, punctuated (she hopes) with sex. So, what now? Is she just supposed to wait around for Rachel's stupid call? Why hadn't Rachel just left a number? And Juliet can't really just have Jack study in her room; Penny's still sleeping (or more accurately, trying to sleep) and anyway there's even less space here than at Jack's apartment.

"Pen?" she whispers finally.

"Mrmph..."

"I have to go. Could you just make her give you a number if she calls back?"

"Yeah," Penny mumbles.

Juliet gets her stuff together as quietly as she can, slipping two textbooks and her notes into her backpack. She's just about to dart across the hall to brush her teeth when the phone rings. She hurries over to grab it before Penny's brain explodes or something. "Hello?" she whispers.

"Julie?"

"Yeah. What's going on?"

"Why are you whispering?" Rachel whispers at her sarcastically.

"My roommate is sleeping. What is it?" She twists the phone cord around her fingers anxiously.

"Uh... You mind if I drop in on you for a bit? Stay with you for like a couple days?"

"What? When?"

"In like... two hours?"

Juliet frowns. "What? Where are you?"

"We're around San Diego right now. They're going up to Topanga but I feel like shit. Could really use a shower and a place to crash for awhile."

"You said a couple days?"

"Yeah, I think. Unless they go somewhere else up north after."

Oh, so now she's just supposed to drop everything for her so-called sister? "I'm really pretty busy," she says coolly, even though it almost makes her stomach twist to use that tone.

Rachel snorts. "Oh, come on. You're like the only one I know in the area and I really need a break from these dumbasses once in a while."

"Who are you with?"

"No one you know. Just a couple friends. I'm just, like, really tired. I'll totally buy you food and stuff. Please, Julie."

"You'll be here in two hours?"

"Yeah. Pleeeeease just do me this favor."

Juliet sucks on the inside of her cheek. Isn't she supposed to be standing up for herself more? And yet she knows - has known - since Rachel firs asked her, that she's going to give in and there's a part of her that hates herself for it, but then she'd probably hate herself more for not letting Rachel come. And then she'd probably suffer through another few months or years of unreturned phone calls. Although why should she even care so much? "OK, but you have to sleep on the floor. We don't have a couch or anything."

"Thank you thank you thank yooou," Rachel crows. "I have a sleeping bag. But can I at least sleep in your bed if you're not there?"

"How long have you been traveling around? You've been camping?"

"Yeah. Like three or four weeks."

Disgusting. Rachel's practically living in the wild. Juliet could never ever handle something like that. She sighs. "You can sleep in my bed if you take at least two showers."


Jack's silver Camry is idling at the curb. She sticks her head in the window and he looks confused. "Jack, I'm sorry," she begins.

He frowns. "What's wrong?"

"My sister called. She needs a place to stay. She's coming in two hours."

He leans back, suspicious. "I didn't know you had a sister."

"Rachel. She's three years older than me."

"Why haven't you ever mentioned her?"

She shifts from one foot to the another. "I don't know. We don't get along."

"She still in school?"

"No."

"What does she do?"

Wastes oxygen. "She moved to Flagstaff to go to NAU but then she dropped out. She bartends, I think. Or she was, anyway. She's been following Phish this fall."

Jack cracks a grin like this is the most ridiculously unbelievable thing she could have ever said. "You're kidding."

She shakes her head.

"And you had the same parents?"

"Jack."

"Sorry. It's just... I can't even picture you having a sister like that."

Juliet gives up on maintaining a distance, opens the car door and drops into the passenger seat. "It's funny, because until she dropped out of college she was always my parents' favorite."

"So is that why you don't get along?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know. We never did. I don't think she likes me."

"I'm sure she likes you, Juliet. She's your sister."

"Well, you don't have a sister, do you, Jack?" She already knows he's an only child. If it weren't for the fact that he'd previously told her this, she'd probably still be able to tell.

"No. No I don't," he assents.

Juliet purses her lips, squints into the sunlight filtering through the windshield. "It's like she blames me for something I did that I don't even remember."