Noah followed me. “Hey, dots, how’s it going?” he called out.
I ignored him and kept walking. I got to the closet, pulled the door open, and grabbed a broom and a long dustpan. I felt Noah loom up behind me, and before he could speak, I spun on him.
“Listen to me, Noah. Stop calling me dots. Actually, stop talking to me. I don’t want to hear from you at all tonight. No more perverted comments, no more jokes, just leave me alone.” I stared at him, my face hard and angry. Concern washed over his face for a brief moment, and I was surprised at his reaction. But just as quickly, it disappeared, replaced by his cocky grin.
“Whatever you say, dots. You’re on tickets again.”
Before I could yell at him some more, he spun around and stalked off.
I stood there alone in the supply closet, clutching my dustpan and broom, fuming. He didn’t seem to give a shit at all about how I felt. He didn’t try to explain or ask what was bothering me. He knew I was upset with him, but he did nothing to try and fix any of it. Instead, he stormed off like a child. I wanted to smash something, break a light, preferably over Noah’s head. I imagined a scenario involving bricks and Noah’s kneecaps when Chuck walked into the closet.
“Oh, hey there Linda,” he said, grinning jovially.
“What, Chuck?” I snapped at him.
He caught the expression on my face. “Whoa, sorry. You okay?”
I took a deep breath. I was suddenly lashing out at Chuck, probably the most harmless guy in the world. He may have been goofy, but he was incredibly nice. I felt pretty guilty, and the anger I felt at Noah began to slip away.
“I’m sorry, sorry I snapped,” I said.
He shrugged, grabbing a stack of unopened popcorn buckets.
“Don’t worry about it. Anything you want to chat about?”
“No, thanks. I’ll be fine. Just gathering myself.”
He nodded, his face serious. “If you need some popcorn, or candy, or soda, just give me the sign. I can get you a fix, stat.”
I laughed, and I felt the tension in my body suddenly break. “Thanks Chuck, I might take you up on that.”
“Good. They call me the sugar paramedic.”
“Who does?”
“Well, bye!” He gave me a comical wave and scampered back into the theater.
I smiled and laughed softly to myself as he left. I took a few deep breaths, and the anger completely dissipated. I couldn’t believe I was acting that way. I didn’t normally have a temper, and I certainly didn’t normally yell at people. I suddenly felt bad about the way I had talked to Noah, although he probably deserved it. I realized how tightly wound I was, torn between two poles, one needing Noah’s body and obsessing about his kiss, and the other angry and betrayed by his lie and his father. I was like a split screen film, one narrative scrolling on the left, and another, opposite narrative on the right. I was stuck between the two, confused and upset. I took another deep breath, needing to gather myself together.
Noah didn’t owe me anything, and I definitely didn’t owe him. We may have had some chemistry, and we kissed once, but that was it. There was too much pulling us apart to make it work. Standing in that closet, feeling guilty and upset and still a little betrayed, I promised myself I’d start getting over him, beginning that night.
I put the broom and dustpan back, steeling myself for the night. I was going to get through it, and I was going to get through the next night, and life would go on. Things were going to be fine. Noah Carterson was just another guy.
I knew I was lying to myself, but it was enough to give me an ounce of courage.
The night skidded by in fits and jumps, which was how most theaters worked. We had a rush about a half hour to forty minutes before a film was starting, and then there was a long lull while the movies played. During the rush, I took tickets, and that was boring but easy; I knew what I was doing, and I didn’t have to interact with Noah much. During the lull, I kept myself busy, either straightening up the women’s bathroom, or helping the Wonder Twins with the concession stand.
Noah didn’t bother me much, which suited me fine. I guessed he took the hint when I yelled at him, and although I felt bad about that, it did the trick. He wasn’t distant or rude, but he wasn’t going out of his way to be around me, either. Chuck and Mikey didn’t say anything about me hanging around with them, either, which was nice. I guessed Chuck sensed the tension between Noah and me, and he was giving me an out if I wanted it.
Soon, I fell into the swing of things, and began to forget about everything with Noah. He didn’t seem to mind that I was ignoring him, which worked out fine. We fell into a rhythm of mutual, strained politeness, interacting when the job demanded it, but otherwise keeping a distance between us. As the night progressed, I realized Noah wasn’t interacting with any of the other employees. He mostly kept to himself, which was curious to me, since he was incredibly charming and outgoing. I knew he was pretty popular on campus, but at the theater, he was a little quiet.