Page 30
Story: In the Back Row With You
Tess was in the back row of the screen. She’d had a quiet moment, so she’d decided to slip in and enjoy the movie playing.
The theatre was nearly full, and she could hear the muffled laughter from the audience as the first slapstick scene of Safety Last! played out. They were having a silent marathon tonight. Tess had brought it up a while ago and Zara had suggested that it could attract a big crowd in a certain demo and gave it her backing. She hadn’t named the demo, but looking down at the crowd, they were hipsters.
That annoyed Tess in a way. But she was seeing, more and more, that judging why people went to see movies wasn’t doing anyone any favours. They were enjoying it. That was all that mattered. If it was ironic enjoyment, it didn’t change anything. They had come to see silent cinema. That was the only thing to focus on.
On the screen, Harold Lloyd dangled from a clock face, kicking his legs wildly. The audience laughed. Tess wished she could laugh, but she was too distracted. She tried to focus on the action, on the easy humour of a man hanging by his fingertips. But instead, she found herself glancing at the door.
Tess had given it a week since the big kiss. Then she’d texted Zara, inviting her tonight. She’s sent her an e-ticket. Zara had said she’d try to make it. That was all they’d said. Nothing about anything… else. They were very not talking about that.
Maybe she wasn’t coming. Maybe that was good. No need to overthink things. It was just a Wednesday night screening—black-and-white, silent comedy, nothing deep or complicated.
The man on the screen clung ever harder to the minute hand, eyes wide in exaggerated panic. Is that me right now? Tess thought bitterly, imagining herself hanging from the edge of a clock tower, desperately trying to keep everything from crashing down. Maybe that was why this film was bothering her tonight, despite it being one of her favourites. Harold Lloyd was the king of fumbling his way through chaos, pretending like he had everything under control, while underneath, everything was an inch from falling apart.
It was a sobering mirror.
Lloyd climbed higher, now dodging a flock of pigeons. The audience erupted into laughter, but Tess barely cracked a smile. This is ridiculous, she thought. It’s just Zara. She’s just a person. A smart, charming, absolutely gorgeous person who might be sending you weird signals, but still, a flesh and blood woman, Tess. Nothing more.
She’d very nearly talked herself into believing that when the door creaked open behind her, and there she was. Zara, slipping in quietly. Tess’s heart began to bang.
Zara headed straight for her designated seat. Tess had picked it specifically, recalling that Zara liked to be smack dab in the middle of the theatre. Tess was more of an upper-left-corner girl herself, but each to their own.
The clock scene on screen built toward its climax, Lloyd now balancing precariously on the clock’s hands. Tess clenched her jaw. There was something fitting about all this absurdity—a man on the verge of disaster, only holding on by sheer willpower, pretending it was all part of the plan.
Seriously? You’re comparing a workplace crush to dangling from a skyscraper? You’ve lost it.
As the movie approached its final, most chaotic scene, Harold Lloyd was now scaling the building like a man possessed, every step an act of desperation and ridiculousness. The audience was in stitches, and Tess found herself cracking a smile despite everything. It was absurd. It was all absurd. A silent film about a man getting stuck in a situation way out of his control, while she sat here, flustered over a woman who probably wasn’t thinking about her.
Then Zara’s laugh echoed out just at the right moment, rich and full. Tess’s heart flipped. Damn it.
The film ended, and the lights came up.
Tess didn’t look in Zara’s direction—at least not directly. But she could see her moving from her peripheral, standing and shuffling sideways out to the aisle, with the crowd.
Tess would have to talk to Zara. Weird not to. She’d come on Tess’s invitation. But what the hell was Tess going to say?
She knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say, ‘Let’s go on a date and see if this could be anything.’ But she didn’t know if she had the guts.
Table of Contents
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