Thinking



Freddie is still feeling vaguely lost, so when Sam suggests they go to a movie, he concedes without thinking.

They walk into the theater and it's getting late; so of course the theater is packed. There's an hour until a midnight premiere of Ali in Ponderworld. It's the third or maybe even fifth one. Carly had dragged Sam and him to see the first movie in theaters. Freddie tries to recall seeing it, but the only memories he can dig up is Sam stealing all his popcorn, Carly monopolizing his soda, and falling asleep twenty minutes in.

Freddie had mistakenly thought it would be better than a chick flick; it had turned out to be—he remembers suddenly as he waits in the ticket line with Sam, who is eyeing the concession stand—a freaky, confusing, almost disturbing chick flick with some freakishly dressed people; even worse than normal chick flicks. Carly had loved it. Sam had gone for the cute actor who starred in it and the popcorn Freddie had been conned into buying her. Remembering the movie doesn't really matter to Freddie, and he doesn't care that by the time he and Sam exit their movie, it'll be early morning.

What matters is that the theater is packed with teenagers, giggling and shouting and being generally very loud and obnoxious. Packs of girls move around the lobby, shrieking with laughter or surprise, and clouds of perfume follow them. There are smaller, rarer groups of boys, who stand together and fondly watch their girlfriends make complete fools of themselves. Freddie had never been one of those boys, as Sam despises giggling and cannot stand being around groups of girls. Freddie had been the boyfriend who had been dragged into the theater insanely earlier, to claim a good seat and see who could throw a piece of popcorn the farthest.

"Omigawd!" a teenage girl screeches at the top of her lungs, drawing the attention of half of the lobby.

She's pointing across the theater at a boy who is playing one of the arcade games, innocently standing next to a girl who can't be more than eleven.

"Jared, I can't believe you!" The girl is tearing up now, as if she has caught her boyfriend, who looks confused, with his hand down another girl's shirt; instead of standing within three feet of another, way younger female.

The girl bursts into tears and her girl friends surround her, soothing her and shooting glares at a flabbergasted Jared, who is obviously at a loss confronted with the complexities of the average, hormonal, teenage girl.

Freddie thinks dark thoughts about the youth of today, particularly how ridiculous and overloud they are, and then realizes he's thinking like a crotchety old man. Then he thinks that, at least, crotchety old men are or had been married. Then Freddie stops thinking and mechanically hands his credit card to the ticket girl as Sam announces the movie they are going to see. It's some action film with lots of explosions and car chases. And the added bonus of a 'smoking' male lead, Sam informs him loftily as the ticket girl holds out their tickets and Freddie's credit card.

Freddie pockets the tickets and Sam leads the way to the concession stand, which Freddie believes is the main reason Sam comes to the movies. She's already schmoozed her way to the front by the time Freddie catches up with her. He simply stands there while Sam orders so much food, it is impossible to believe she had only finished dinner an hour ago. He willingly carries most of the food, juggling it all with experienced ease. Sam herself holds only a super-large soda, from which she sips as Freddie attempts to get their tickets out of his pocket without dropping any of the food—the punishment for that sin, Freddie has learned from precious few occasions before, is quick and very, very bad.

Finally, Sam grows impatient and mercifully sticks her hand into Freddie pocket. He doesn't bat an eye, used to Sam taking liberties. She thrusts the tickets at the employee and doesn't wait for the stubs, heading off down the corridor. Freddie follows meekly, debating on whether or not Sam will notice if he eats some of the popcorn before they sit down. He decides not to risk it. Sam is extremely unreasonable and OCD when it comes to her food; and Freddie is really rather partial to keeping his head on his body.

Sam generously holds the door open for him, and they walk into the theater. It's cool, dark, and there aren't that many other people. The movie had come out a few weeks before, which means there shouldn't be that much of a crowd. Freddie is grateful, if only because it will give Sam less targets to antagonize by bombarding them with small candy or popcorn pieces. She has let Freddie take the blame in many incidents before, and Freddie is not looking forward to repeating performances. The last guy had been at least seven feet tall and looked like a less green Bulk, the comic book hero. Plus, the guy had sucker punched an apologizing Freddie, who hadn't seen it coming. Then Sam had interrupted and beat the guy up until he had started crying, which hadn't taken very long because, duh, Sam.

Sam marches straight down the aisle, intent on getting the middle seat in the middle row of the room, and Freddie meanders behind her, taking his time. He knows Sam is very picky about where she sits when there are more options available. Sure enough, five minutes and many seats later, Sam settles down into a seat and throws Freddie an expectant look. He slide into the seat next to her, and begins to deposit his drink, the two large popcorns, the one small popcorn (for throwing, Freddie suspects), and multiple candy bags and boxes around them. Sam lays her arm on the top of Freddie's chair and the empty seat on her other side, crossing her legs, and gets comfortable.

There are a few advertisements playing on a loop, nothing interesting, and Freddie absently snacks on the small popcorn. He is mildly surprised when Sam doesn't rebuke him for eating her ammunition. She probably has realized there aren't enough people in the theater to get away with throwing popcorn. Freddie is relieved and continues to sit there, legs stretched out in front of him. Sam props her feet up on the empty seat in front of her, despite the signs that had been on the door of the theater asking people not to.

Freddie doesn't bother to start a conversation and Sam doesn't say anything. She enjoys silence in movie theaters, and hates when a large talkative group is in the same theater as her. Unlike everyone else though, who just bears through it or even leaves the movie, Sam tends to confront those large talkative groups.

And those large talkative groups tend to listen to her, because Sam can be very convincing.

The lights dim, previews begin, and Sam starts in on her first popcorn. It's so smothered in butter Freddie knows there's probably a puddle of butter at the bottom of the container. He should be grossed out, but he isn't. He's known and lived with Sam for so long, he's used to and numb to her habits. But as the movie beings and the credits appear on the screen, words on top of the image of a car chase through the narrow streets of what looks like Italy, Freddie pauses.

His brain wakes up, screaming at the tops of its lungs, and Freddie is incredibly aware of the velvet box in his pocket. He looks at Sam out of the corner of his eye, and thinks. He really could whip the ring out right now. Sam is in her element, eating junk food and watching an action movie with her feet rebelliously placed on the chair in front of her. There's practically no one else there, besides the young couple in the back row and a trio of college age kids sitting closer to the screen.

Freddie could just take the ring out, and whisper to Sam, and it would be done. But as Freddie seriously considers it, there is a niggling doubt that he is taking the easy way out. Proposing at a movie theater? It would distract Sam from the movie—she would no doubt make him take her back—and if her reaction is violent, there are so many things that could go wrong. So Freddie hand, reaching for his pocket, stops and instead grabs a handful of popcorn. He shoves it into his mouth, feeling a bizarre urge to cry.

Proposing isn't supposed to be this hard. He had bought the ring and had thought that was all there was to it. Now Freddie knows how wrong he had been. He mourns unfair life and wonders what he had possibly done to afford such bad, horrific karma. Freddie goes through the motions; he looks at the movie, hands Sam her candy when she wants it, and snacks on his own food. He drinks his soda. But he isn't there mentally.

In his mind, Freddie is preparing a new plan; a better plan. One with various back-ups in case it should fail. Freddie formulates the perfect plot while Sam unsuspectingly sits beside him. By the time the lights turn on, Freddie is in a better, happier mood and Sam has polished off all of her food—as well as half of Freddie's popcorn and the remainder of his soda. Freddie isn't mad about it; he finds it endearing and, in a twisted way, intriguing how Sam can eat more than him combined with three starving sumo wrestlers trying to go up three weight classes. If sumo wrestlers had weight classes, Freddie ponders, as he leaves the theater with Sam.

Freddie's arm is around Sam's waist, she reeks of butter, and while she suggests that they make a midnight run to a fast food place, Freddie thinks about the diet of sumo wrestlers.