Page 76 of Severed Heart

“You’re shittin’ me,” he utters without an ounce of humor in his tone as he runs gentle eyes over my face.

“Non, not shittin’ you. Which is also a terrible expression, but this is my first time, so merci beaucoup, Tyler.”

“My pleasure,” he whispers sweetly. “Follow me,” he says, cradling the popcorn in one arm, his other hand gripping several boxes of candy as he scans the aisles.

“Why suchbigdrinks?” I ask as he leads us down a row in the middle.

“You won’t be asking after a couple handfuls of popcorn,” he says, politely navigating us past a few of those already sitting in our aisle.

As we take our seats, I inhale a mouthwatering whiff of cologne and freeze when I realize it’s wafting from the boy next to me.

He’s wearing cologne?

As he adjusts himself in his seat, and after I put the drinks into the holders—very convenient—it strikes me then just how nicely he’s dressed. As he settles in and grabs a mouthful of popcorn from the tub now in my lap, I catch a glint of his watch. This one shiny silver, not the typical plastic sports watch he wears.

My excitement dims with that realization as I sink into the large seat,so very comfortable, and glance around the theater, noticing many couples surround us. A few rows down, a group of teenagers toss popcorn back and forth while talking loudly. Unease starts to sneak in as I turn to question Tyler. “No one else wanted to come? Not Dom or Sean?”

“They’re at the garage installing a part on Sean’s Nova. And they aren’t really into Star Wars like we are.” He shrugs. “They’ll probably wait for the DVD to come out.”

With his easy delivery of this, I try to relax. It’s when a couple a row down begins to kiss that I realize why he mentioned the kissing tramp, and I avert my eyes as more unease settles over me. Of course, I know that it is tradition for couples to kiss at the movies, but we are not a couple. Tyler doesn’t want to kiss me. He is my fishin’ buddy. I’m his mentor. Nothing more. Sensing the tension in me, the polished-up boy in the seat next to me speaks up. “Hey.” He gently nudges my arm on the rest. “You okay? Do you want to go?”

The lights dim just as I open my mouth to speak, and the large screen bursts to life, deafening sound surrounding us. Startled, I spill some of the bucket of popcorn. Tyler chuckles as I flick some of the kernels from my jeans, my cheeks heating for looking so simple.

“I am the imbecile tonight.” I roll my eyes at him.

“No, Delphine, you’re not. You could never be that,” he whispers so sincerely that I look over at him. “I’m glad I get to share this first time with you.”

I give him a smile I know is kind. A smile I feel. “Me too.”

I am safe. Tyler is safe.

I remind myself of this as my nerves start to fray because, in truth, I do feel safe with Tyler and relay this as best as possible as I turn to him. “This was a wonderful surprise and treat, private. Thank you.”

“Welcome,” he says, leaning over for more popcorn, his inviting scent invading my senses, pulling me in slightly. Trying to push any ill feelings the sensation causes to the side, I blindly reach for my purse on the floor to retrieve my bottle.

Just a sip.

“Delphine,” Tyler whispers when I take two sips instead. “If you’re uncomfortable, we can leave. I won’t be upset.”

“No, no, I want to watch,” I insist, keeping my eyes on the screen. As the movie starts, I take one more sip and another. But even after I get lost in the movie, the unease refuses to leave me fully. By the time the movie ends, I have few sips left.

* * *

“You’re awfully quiet,” Tyler says several minutes into our drive home.

“Why is that awful?” I ask, pulling my eyes from the passing traffic.

“Another expression,” he grins, a devilish sparkle in his eyes as the air vents blow his cologne through the cabin of the car, and it again surrounds me. “You haven’t said much since we left the theater.”

“I am just thinking about the movie.”

“And?” he asks, exiting the highway to enter Triple Falls.

“So many parallels to our true world. Man’s greed and struggle for power. For one side to reign, as another fights for independence, for freedom of such strict rule. The same story for so many wars, and still we never learn.”

“Agreed.”

“It was tragic,” I say. “Anakin’s descent ... loss of himself to his darkness, to become Darth Vader. You know it will happen, but you are sad when it does. It’s painful to know what remains behind his mask, his future cross to bear.”