Noah laughed. “Yeah, management style, right. Miss H has feather boas and long stemmed cigarettes, and that’s about it.”
“She has drama, and that’s all you need.”
He nodded, pretending to be serious. “That’s true. The only thing a good indie movie theater needs is drama.”
We laughed together at that, and he bumped me with his shoulder. I savored the light and brief contact, smiling up at him.
As I looked forward again, I noticed a few people walking by were staring at us. I knew Noah had a reputation on campus because of his father, not to mention his amazing good looks and his money, but I hadn’t realized how far that extended. I saw a few girls standing over by a group of bikes whisper to each other and throw me dirty looks, but Noah pretended like they didn’t exist. I didn’t really mind; it wasn’t like I’d see any of them again. It felt weird, being the object of attention and jealousy, even if it was only because Noah felt like getting to know his new workmate.
We turned right at the bell tower, and walked up a short, grassy hill covered in people. People called that spot “the beach.” It was probably the nicest area to sit on the whole campus, at least when the weather was decent. It got a lot of light, which kept the grass nice and dry, and people sat in small groups scattered all over. It was centrally located right next to the bell tower, which meant it was prime for people watching.
Noah picked his way through the crowd then sat down toward the back. I sat next to him, and he leaned back onto his hands, folding his legs under him and smiling. It was oddly comfortable to sit in a huge group of people with Noah, and although people kept glancing at us, and some were whispering, I felt calm. It wasn’t every day that I got to spend time on a beautiful day with a gorgeous asshole.
“So, polka dots, got a boyfriend?” Noah shifted his weight, and I was intensely aware of how close his knee was to mine. I winced at the nickname, but let it go again.
“No boyfriend,” I said. I had no clue why he was asking, but I realized it was my perfect opportunity. “What about you?”
He grinned at me. “Nope, no boyfriend.”
I rolled my eyes. “Great joke. Seriously, what about that blonde girl?”
He looked a little confused for a second then laughed. “Oh, you mean Ellie.”
“Yeah, Stripper Barbie. That’s what I said.”
“Is that a little jealousy I’m sensing?” He shifted his weight a little closer to me, and I felt my stomach do flips.
“Nope, no jealousy. Just an observation.”
“Yeah, sure. You’re practically spinning with envy.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “I notice you’re avoiding the question.”
He shook his head. “She’s just a friend.”
Just a friend. I had heard that one before. Was she just a friend that he happened to sleep with?
“Pretty good friends?” I asked, pushing it.
“Yeah, actually. She’s been going through some shit lately.” He gave me a look, and suddenly I felt bad. I had no clue why I was giving him a hard time about that girl. He was free to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. We barely knew each other. Plus, I shouldn’t have assumed he was banging everything around him, although he probably was.
“Sorry to hear that,” I same lamely.
He grinned and shrugged. “It’s cool, she’ll get over it.”
There was a short silence as I ran over the last few minutes in my mind. I was surprised he was being so genuinely nice to me. It didn’t seem like his nature to try kindness first instead of aggressively hitting on someone.
To change the subject, I brought up an old movie I had seen the week before starring Charlie Chaplin. We started to talk about our taste in movies before things got too awkward. He listened to me while I went on and on about the classics, and I realized he was genuinely interested in what I had to say. It turned out he was equally into movies as I was, and we talked about all the nerdy details I had been dying to dissect with someone.
I guessed it was because we had such similar upbringings, with one of our parents in the film industry, although they were in pretty different parts. He had a really interesting working knowledge of the business side of things, and told me some interesting facts about how the original studios worked, with their commission structures and payments to the set workers and designers. That part wasn’t something I knew much about, and he made me realize how many people were involved with movies, not just the actors and directors. It took hundreds of people to make a film, from gaffers to sound guys to catering.
As we kept talking, comfortably and idly, sharing our favorite nerdy parts of the movie industry, I kept wondering why he was spending so much time with me. There were plenty of other girls on campus that would have thrown themselves at him, most of them prettier than I was, and yet he was spending the afternoon talking about lighting directors and sound mixing instead. I felt my confusion begin to boil up, and I knew I was going to say something stupid. I had the tendency to do that; I had always just spoken my mind, even when I shouldn’t.