Filmed_ An Alpha Bad Boy Romance(9)

Confused, I put my phone away, and went back to studying. No matter how many paragraphs of my assigned reading I went through, Noah Carterson and my mom’s reaction kept scrolling through my mind like the opening of Star Wars.

The next day, I floated through my classes, my head still spinning about my mom and Noah’s family. I had no clue what made her act so weird, and I really wanted to know. I didn’t have my film history class that day, but I hoped I would see Noah at the theater.

Around four-thirty, I headed over toward the student center, my stomach full of butterflies. It was totally irrational to be excited to fill out a W-2, but I knew that there was a chance I’d see Noah. Maybe together we could get to the bottom of why my mom was so weird about him. That, or he’d be a total asshole again, and make me want to smack him. Maybe my mom felt the same way about his dad; maybe Mr. Carterson was a huge asshole, too. I practically skipped down the stairs and rounded the corner.

Chelsea was sitting behind the box office again, and I suddenly felt like she lived there. I had never seen her anywhere else but behind that glass; it was uncanny.

“Hi, Chelsea, is Miss Havisham around?” I asked.

“Sure, she’s in there. Just knock.”

I nodded in thanks, and then knocked on Miss Havisham’s door. After a moment, I heard a shrill “Come in!” and pushed the door open.

“Well hello Linda!” she cried, practically brimming with energy. She was wearing thick-rimmed glasses and sitting in front of an open ledger.

“Hi, Miss Havisham. I’m here to fill out that paperwork you mentioned.”

“Of course dear! Take a seat.” She gestured to a chair in front of her desk while she rummaged through a filing cabinet.

“Here we are, new hire forms. Take your time dear,” she said, placing a few pages in front of me. I dug a pen out of my bag and started to skim through the forms They were mostly the usual things, a waiver for the university, tax information, standard papers. It didn’t take long to sign my name over and over, and I was finished in about five minutes. When I was done, I looked up at Miss Havisham, who was staring at her ledger again with a serious look on her face. It was completely at odds with the crazy mess of her office.

“Excuse me, Miss Havisham?”

She looked up. “Yes?”

“I’m all finished.” I handed the papers across the desk. She took them and tucked them under the corner of her keyboard.

“Great! Thanks so much.”

I paused for a second. “I have a question, actually.”

“What’s up?” She took her glasses off. It was a nice gesture; I got the sense that she cared about what I was going to say, and wasn’t brushing me off.

“Do you know my mom? Her name is Marilyn Lewis, she works at UPenn, in the film studies department.”

Miss Havisham looked surprised. “Marilyn Lewis, of the Times?”

My mom sometimes wrote film reviews in the New York Times, though not nearly as often as she used to. Back in the day, she was considered a huge critic, though that tapered off a bit as she adjusted to academia.

“Yep, that’s her.”

She laughed loudly. “I know old Marilyn! Your mom was quite the critic back in the day.”

“So I hear. She says hello, by the way.”

“Oh that’s incredible, tell her I say it back. I can’t believe Marilyn is your mother!”

“Yep, it’s a pretty small world.”

Miss Havisham leaned back in her chair and looked thoughtful. “I guess it was fate that brought you to me. Marilyn was always supportive of my career, such that it was.”

I nodded. “My mom had nothing but good things to say about you.”

She smiled, and I could tell she was genuinely pleased to hear that. “Well, you tell her to stop by and visit some time.”

I stood up to go. “I definitely will. What time should I be here on Monday?”

She pushed her glasses back on, shifted through the papers on her desk, and then pulled out a schedule. “Let me see here...can you do five to ten?”

“Yeah, that’ll be good.”

“Great. We’ll set you up with a more permanent schedule on Monday.”

“Thanks again, Miss Havisham.”

“Okay Linda, have a good day.”

I waved and pushed the door to her office open, feeling good. My mother knew a lot of people in the film world, and I had heard nothing but good things about her. She seemed liked and respected by everyone, and I loved running into old friends of hers. It happened more and more since going to Temple. She had a lot of contacts in Philadelphia, and more seemed to appear every day.

Back in the lobby, it was pretty empty. Chelsea sat behind the glass looking bored, and Mikey and Chuck were throwing popcorn at each other behind the concession stand counter. I swept my gaze over the room then spotted him. Sitting on a small stool by the entrance to the theaters was Noah Carterson, flipping idly through his cellphone. He wore perfectly fitting black jeans and a black theater uniform shirt, which he managed to make look stylish. His hair was shaved short on the sides and it was mussed up and messy on the top. I walked toward him, and my heart started to hammer. I had no idea why. It wasn’t like I’d never spoken to a guy before.