Page 58 of Unsupervised

“Like I said, I’m not one of those Neanderthal sexists. I know women can support themselves and pay for their own food.”

And his too, apparently. No way is my bank account taking a hit from this guy. I smile at the waitress when she returns and hand her the check. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but can you split this, please? I had the salad and soft drink.”

“Of course.”

It doesn’t get any better. I’m regaled with his life story, all the wonderful things he’s done and his long term life plans. He never asks me anything about myself or let’s me get a word in. I’ve never been so glad to get to a theater as I am when we finally make it there. At least he’ll have to shut up.

At this point, I probably should just tell him I’d rather go home and end it, but I don’t want to be rude. I can sit through a movie, especially because it’s one I’d like to see, not that I had any say.

For the first hour or so, things are fine. We both bought our own popcorn and drinks, and he stays quiet as we munch on our snacks and watch the movie. He lays his hand on my knee, and I ignore it. I’m going to finish the movie, have him take me home, and chalk this up as a learning experience. People can be way different over messaging than in real life.

I make the mistake of glancing at him, and he grabs the opportunity to slam his lips to mine. Before I can back away, his tongue is already shoved in my mouth.

Gross. He’s lucky I don’t bite it off. I shove him away and hiss, “Stop it!”

He just grins and shrugs. “Not into PDA?”

“I’m not into guys I barely know shoving their tongue down my throat!”

Cries of “Shhh!” come from multiple people around us, but he just shrugs.

“Your loss, babe.”

I get up, thankful I have an aisle seat, and he asks, “Where are you going?”

“Concessions.”

His empty popcorn container is shoved into my hand. “Great, grab me another popcorn. I don’t want to miss this.”

Fuming, I’m sorry my soft drink cup is empty, and I can’t dump it over his head. I don’t want to disturb anyone else, so I stalk up the aisle and out into the light of the hall. My trash and his empty popcorn bucket get tossed in the trash can. Does he seriously think I was going to go buy him a refill? I’m tempted to get a Rideshare or call one of the girls to come and get me. Just bail on him like he deserves. There’s only a few minutes left of the movie and I know none of them would get here before then. Besides, I’m not afraid of him or in danger. He’s just a self-centered prick.

There’s a text on my phone from Zara when I unmute it.

Zara: How is it going?

Her words are followed by little heart emojis.

Me: Be hoe soon.

Shit, unfortunate typo.

Me: Home soon.

Zara: Be a ho. It’s fine.

She has no idea. I wouldn’t fuck this guy with a borrowed vagina.

The movie lets out, and Miles saunters out with the last of them. He spots me waiting on the bench and flashes a smile. “Ready, babe?” he asks, as if he thinks everything is fine.

The ride back is short but interminable. We’re right around the corner from my place when he glances over at me, his eyebrow cocked. “So, should I stop and get some condoms?”

Is…is he serious?

“I forgot to stop before I picked you up.” He shrugs at my incredulous look.

“No.” It’s the only word I manage, and his response is another shrug.

“Maybe next time.”