Page 48 of Liar
There was no denying this. No fighting this. There could only be giving in.
The movie started, and the other people in the theater hushed. I tossed quick glances her way every few moments, watching her react to the movie on the big screen, my gaze taking in her sly smiles and her soft chuckles. When she’d catch me looking at her, I threw a piece of popcorn at her, which only made her frown.
But that was the thing about Ash. Even her frowns drove me nuts. They always had. I was just sober enough now to recognize the tug on my heartstrings.
Time both passed too fast and too slow. I tried paying attention to the movie, and I caught a funny part, but the problem with that was everyone else in the theater thought it was funny too—even Ash. When she laughed, she actually set her arm down on the armrest, her hand finding mine, fingers splaying across my hand evenly, like my hand was hers to hold.
And then, of course, Ash realized what was happening, and she threw me a dirty look as she yanked her hand away and rested it on her lap, as if I was the one who’d grabbed her hand. As if my soft skin had set her mind wandering.
Hah. The fucking opposite.
Ash, as it turned out, was one of those people who had to stay until the credits were over, just to make sure she didn’t miss any after-credits scenes. I told her we could always look it up and see if waiting was pointless or not, but she had none of it. As the music played and the credits rolled on the big, black screen before us, the lights were slow to come back on overhead. People shuffled out, grabbing their popcorn and their half-eaten snacks and throwing them out after heading down the stairs.
Needless to say, there wasn’t anything after the movie.
As Ash and I finally got up—my whole body felt stiff, like I’d been sitting still for too long—Ash stretched before she led me out of the theater. I dumped the rest of what we hadn’t eaten in the trash, the black can nearly full. She pulled me to the side, quick to release her hold on my jacket as she angled her head up at me.
“What did you think of the movie?” she asked, seemingly way too innocent for the thoughts I knew ran through that head, not to mention what I knew she got up to with her boyfriends.
“To be honest, I didn’t really see much of it.”
“I know. You were too busy watching me instead.”
“Couldn’t help it. I was waiting for my next handjob—” I spoke the last word a bit too loudly, causing a family walking by us to glare. The teenage son laughed, though. “I thought you’d get the hint.” A smirk spread on my face; it was impossible to be around her and not want to smile. She…she just brought it out of me, I guessed.
“With our history, I think taking it slow is the best option,” Ash spoke, flipping her hair to her right shoulder.
Slow. The opposite of what I wanted, but I knew it wasn’t up to me. It was up to her, to her boyfriends…assuming none of them were at the root of that bag of presents I’d gotten earlier. If I found out one of them was trying to sabotage me, they’d have hell to pay—and I’d make sure Ash knew about it.
Right now, I didn’t want to bring it up. This date, even though there wasn’t nearly enough physical contact between us, was going good. I didn’t want to fuck it up by mentioning my suspicions.
She’d probably only say something logical, anyway, like why I thought it was one of them. Why it couldn’t be anyone else. Why I was so adamant it was one of the guys she loved.
Come on. Ash didn’t have a great track record with guys. When you brought up exes, hers took the cake. I might have a lot under my belt, but a stalker-slash-serial killer was not one of them. Although, I supposed, an attempted murderer was one, thanks to Brooklyn, among other things.
“Maybe,” Ash spoke, pausing as I felt something warm grab my hand, “we can hold hands. No more, though, got it?”
“Holding hands,” I spoke, my stomach doing a strange flip when I felt her fingers curling around mine, “what are we in, fifth grade?” She tossed me an annoyed look, instantly trying to take back her hand, but I had ahold of it now, and my grip was strong. She wasn’t going to get away from me now. “I guess I can deal.”
Would rather have her hand somewhere else—would rather have my hand somewhere else—but like I said, I’d deal. Slow and steady would win this race. I wasn’t going to give up just because Ash wanted to crawl to the finish line.
And once we reached that finish line? We’d keep running the race. There would be no quitting.
Maybe it was middle school-ish, but I held her hand all the way to the car. I even opened her door for her. The night sky was strangely clear for a February night, not a cloud in sight. The moon hung overhead, stars sparkling with their eternal, simple beauty. Even as I held open the car door for her, I didn’t let go of her hand. In fact, I could do nothing but stare at her.
She was beautiful.
“You kind of need to let my hand go,” Ash remarked, turning to face me, her small hand nestled in mine. “Unless you want to stay out here all night.”
My free hand squeezed the car door. “I wouldn’t mind that.”
“Yeah, I bet you wouldn’t.”
I had no idea what she meant by that, and judging from the look on her face, she didn’t either. It wasn’t that late, and yet where I was parked, there were hardly any other cars. We were practically alone in the night air, our breath puffs of white between us. The hand holding onto the car loosened, and I let the car door close on its own, moving Ash’s back against the cool metal of my vehicle.
“I bet you wouldn’t, either,” I whispered, releasing her hand only to place both of mine on my car beside her body, thereby blocking her escape. Not that I thought she’d run, but with Ash, you never knew.
She was a wild one, an unpredictable one. She’d kept me on my toes when I was doing nothing but falling over myself and trying to drown out the silence of my failure to my sister. Ash had found me at my lowest point, seen me at my ugliest, and yet here she was, ready for more, willing to take on everything I was, everything I could be.
