Prelude to Destruction

Maybe I’m one for tradition, but when other people(read: my sister Julia) said Matt had no creativity, I only thought it was sweet. We were sitting in the local cinema holding hands and waiting for tonight’s horror flick to start rolling.

“I hope you know I’ll probably start screaming and grab hold of you as soon as the opening credits start,” I told him.

“That’s the point,” he laughed, squeezing my hand.

He thought I was joking, but I was completely serious. I don’t think he realized how easily terrified I could get when I informed him of my track record with scary movies back in the lobby.

“I’m serious. Last time I saw a scary movie I couldn’t sleep for two days. Just don’t be surprised,” I warned him again.

“Oh, please, Rosa,” Matt chuckled, “one of the things I like about you is how predictable you are. I wont be surprised.”

I rolled my eyes at his obvious point; it was true.

As soon as the lights dimmed for the previews, I gripped his hand as tightly.

“Ouch, Rose,” Matt whispered in my ear, trying to remove his hand from my grasp. “Rose. …Rosalie, let go.”

“Oh!” I gasped, embarassed. “Sorry.”

He looked at his hand, puzzled. “It’s okay,” he assured me. “Come here,” he said, wrapping his left arm around me. It felt good; he was warm, and I had neglected to bring a jacket. I’d forgotten just how cold the theater kept the air conditioning.

The movie began running with a couple holding hands walking through a park. Matt silently intertwined his fingers with mine, risking another crushing of the digits. The actors were talking about how they’d be together forever when the sky on the screen turned dark and a zombie could be seen from the corner of the screen. When the thing turned to face the audience, I gasped loudly (at least it wasn’t a scream) and dropped the popcorn.

I probably could have caught the bucket, and I felt bad wasting Matt’s money, but I told him I wasn’t hungry when we came, and I definitely wasn’t hungry after seeing that macabre face on the screen now. I looked up at him. “Sorry, Matt,” I whispered ashamedly.

“It’s okay, I’ll go get a new one,” he suggested, starting to move away from me, but I just clung tighter. “No, don’t leave me!” I demanded.

His mouth formed that cute half-smile that I’d become fond of. “Alright, then.”

I turned back and faced the movie again, seeing that the zombie bloodbath had become full-force. I peeked between my free hand’s fingers every so often (my right was still clinging to Matt’s arm wrapped around me), but I really couldn’t watch. Simply listening to the sound of mass hysteria and murder was putting me on edge.

When the film showed a zombie gnawing on decaying human flesh, I finally lost it. “Excuse me, Matt,” I whispered and bolted from the movie.

“Rosie?” I heard Matt call with concern, but I couldn’t answer. I heard him get up from his seat and follow me, but I couldn’t even look back.

I burst into the lobby, where I located the nearest bathroom. I luckily made it inside, because once I reached the porcelain toilet, I heaved for a good five minutes.

“Excuse me, Miss?” came a voice from behind. I turned to see a short, stout woman in the cinema uniform looking slightly sick just having to be in the same vicinity as me.

“Uh-huh?” I moaned, wiping my mouth.

She backed away a bit. “There’s a man outside, h-he wants to know if you’re alright.”

I nodded and called back, “Yeah, I’m almost–” Heave. “–done.” I stood up and smiled weakly at the woman. “Can you tell him that I’ll be out in a minute? I kinda wanna…you know, brush my teeth,” I explained. “And you might wanna get a custodian in here too. I’m awfully sorry…”

But she had already left.

When I exited the bathroom, Matt was right there waiting for me. He stood up and hugged me tightly. “Rose, I am so sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t realize you’d actually get sick. I wont take you to a scary movie again; comedy from here on out, I promise,” he vowed, kissing my forehead.

“Why don’t we just bring your truck round?” I suggested weakly, leaning on him.

“Alright.”

***

I think Matt was intending to apologize for the rest of the night, but I was having none of it. “Matt!” I said sharply. “It’s alright. I have a sensitive stomach; I should have known I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I’d feel much better if you would stop feeling bad about it.”

He gazed at me, and then the floor of his shiny silver Chevy. “So I guess you probably wont want to go out again next weekend, would you,” he said dejectedly; it wasn’t even a question.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, confused. “I got sick. Big deal. Getting sick didn’t make me like you any less.”

He looked up at me. “Really? …Why don’t we just walk around Orange County next weekend then?” he suggested. “Easy on your stomach.”

I laughed. “That might be for the best.”

As he pulled into my driveway to drop me off for the evening, he put the car in Park and looked at me. He pulled my lips to his, and our lips began dancing again.

Boy, was I glad I had brushed my teeth earlier!

He opened my mouth with his tongue and simultaneously slid his tongue into my mouth as he slid his hand around my neck to support my tilting head. With his free hand, he put it on my side, feeling the gentle curve of my body.

I smiled into his face and pulled away first this time (usually it was him who left me hanging). “Thank you for a wonderful night, Matt,” I murmured, kissing his lips quickly again.

“Wonderful night,” Matt repeated darkly.

“Of course it was,” I said. “I was with a really great person tonight,” I informed him with a grin. He smiled too, and got out of his truck. I waited until he opened my door and helped me jump down. We walked up my drive and stood on my front porch. It was that awkward post-date goodbye.

“So what shall we do next weekend?” I asked.

“Well, I could take you out for Beach Day on Sunday,” he suggested.

“Alright. …See you later, Matt,” I agreed, kissing his cheek one last time before going inside.