Resistance

Jess C Scott

“Shall we go?” he said after a while. I must have been staring. I must have looked dazed. I might have been drooling. I wouldn’t have known.

Christian was “cool” in high school: a little blasé, a little aloof. But now he was cool...in a mind-blowing kind of way. I heard a silent scream from him: I know you want me. You’ll deny it, but I can wait. Shall we get it on?

Suddenly, I picked up on his cologne. Spicy, exotic. I thought of my ruffled leopard thong.

“So,” I managed to say when I got back my tongue, “how was your day?”

He blabbered on about some University applications and classes. Was he playing the same game that I was? His (dark, intense) eyes betrayed the humdrum words coming out of his mouth. They seemed to see right into me.

What is it about him? I tried to reason with myself. Was it the fact that we already had a very good idea of what we looked like naked? Was it the fact I’d unwittingly confided my self-loving ways in detail during an online chat? Was I at the super horny phase of my monthly cycle? Was I deluding myself with his influence on me?

“This is a guy flick though,” he said.

We were already at the theater? Oh my. And was his voice always like this? Smooth like caramel, cocoa butter, chocolate. Soothing...

“I don’t mind, really,” I replied. “Better than the cheesy warlocks versus wizards show.”

“I thought you’d say that,” Christian said, with a smile that knocked me out. “So...where’s the first stop on your trip?”

I want your hands on me, I want to go down on you, I want to know what you taste like, I want to ride you like there’s no tomorrow, I thought.

“Bangkok, Thailand,” I replied. I wasn’t kidding, that was my first stop.

The icy blast of cool air when we stepped into the theater was refreshing. I didn’t care what was going on. The theater was packed. ‘Exterminator’ was about aliens invading Earth, and an army of varsity cheerleaders with huge plasma guns who kept yapping their Resistance Is Futile! slogan was going to wipe them out, and I was trying not to squirm in my seat, though it was killing me whether I should slide my hand over and grope his crotch hard, or stroke his bare lithe forearm, which was inches away from my own, or maybe he—

“I gotta take a piss, I’ll be back in a bit,” he whispered into my ear, his lips so, so near my neck.

I stood up along with him. It was completely against my will. No, wait. I didn’t have one. He was the master, and I was the puppet.

We quickly made our way for the exit, so as not to annoy the other movie-goers. Christian and I headed down the carpeted passageway to the restrooms.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” he said. I nodded and entered the ladies’ room, wishing I could be like my roommate Tawnya for once.

I didn’t really need to go. I was trying to slap some sense into myself. He already has a girlfriend, I told myself. Don’t go trying anything and getting yourself into trouble. Stop being such an obsessive freak. Don’t mention anything to him, he might not feel the same. God, this restroom is perfect. He’d be here, right here, us facing the mirror this way, he’d be tasting and taking in the scent of my skin. We’re gonna do it now in a matter of minutes ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod how exciting!! Dammit, stop fantasizing. I need to distract myself. Get yourself together, Aly!

So I admired the shiny black sink, the painting of pink flowers by the side, the simmering orange glow of the restroom lights. I checked my hair, my face, my hair again, washed my hands, re-applied some lip gloss, cursed my eyeliner for smudging...and then, someone opened the door.

It was Christian. I turned around and leaned against the sink with my hands and the small of my back.

“Was just checking if you’re done,” he said. He was holding the door open.

“You could have called.”

“Yeah.” Still standing at the door. Looking up to see if there was anyone. He was thinking of something to say. “Aly.” A statement, not a question.

He stepped in. Then he locked the main door behind him. He was doing the whole piercing gaze thing again. I was the helpless butterfly specimen being pinned down. “I’ll let you,” my eyes said to him.

I faced the mirror again.

Resistance. Was. Futile.