Just a Number(90)
“Sure. I can look it up on my phone,” I say, picking it up and putting it in my pocket.
Picking a movie isn’t too difficult, and we decide to forego anything that might be too dramatic. Not because we don’t like dramas, but because I’m just not in the mood to watch something like that when my life has its fair share of it right now. There’s an action movie that looks pretty funny, and it starts relatively soon, so we decide to go to that one.
Going out for the first time as a couple is pretty exciting. Yes, we went to the ball, but no one really knew who I was. This will be our first date in the public eye, and I’ve got a flurry of excited butterflies in my belly.
Of course, these butterflies seem to lose their zest when we walk into the theater—hand-in-hand and our body language clearly stating what kind of relationship we’re in—only to find eighty percent of the movie-goers turn to gawk at us. I want to believe they’re just ogling, but it’s obvious they’re judging us, and it upsets me. I suddenly understand why some people in a similar relationship might question things based on how complete strangers respond.
Because I’m still a little rattled after seeing how my dad reacted to the news of Owen and me, I become self-conscious. This bothers me; I’m not usually the type of person to care what others think of me. Owen must pick up on this, because he gives my hand a gentle squeeze and shoots me a reassuring smile.
“Ignore them,” he says softly, brushing his lips across my forehead. And just like that, every look of judgment seems to fade, and I no longer concern myself with what others must be thinking as I look up at him. His ability to brush off the scrutinizing glares of others helps me do the same, and instead of turning into a shrinking violet in front of a few people I’ll likely never see again or remember, I stand up straight and hold my head high, cementing my place at Owen’s side and in his life.
People stop staring and return to whatever it was they were doing before, and a part of me wishes I’d have been this confident when my father misjudged our relationship. Unfortunately, I was far too stressed out and shocked by his sudden appearance at my door that I became flustered. One thing I feel I did right, even though it wasn’t intentional, was that I still affirmed my relationship with Owen instead of letting something that makes me so deliriously happy implode…
…something I hope I can make my dad understand when he finally comes around.
Owen buys our tickets and then leads me to the concession counter where he buys an obscene amount of popcorn, pop, and candy. Not that this is his fault. The theaters charge outlandish prices for the small versions of everything, and you actually save money by buying the dinosaur-sized combos. Besides, I like day-old movie theater popcorn.
We find our seats and wait for the movie to start. In order to keep my mind from wandering back to my dad, Owen keeps the conversation geared toward the movie or my upcoming return to school and his to work. When the movie starts, we settle into our seats, and I lay my head on his shoulder. The next two hours seem to fly by, and when the movie lets out, we decide to grab a bite to eat at a little diner around the corner.
The hostess who greets us sits us in a corner booth upon Owen’s request, and as we take our seats, I dig out my phone to turn it back on. When the screen lights up, I see I’ve got a missed call…from my dad’s landline. I inhale sharply, looking up to find Owen staring at me. It only takes him a second to realize what’s happened.
There’s no voice message, but that’s not a bad thing. Dad’s never been overly keen on talking to a machine. I quickly call him back, the line ringing several times before it clicks over, and I hold my breath, waiting for my dad’s voice.
When that doesn’t happen, my heart falls into my stomach.
“Alan, just talk to her,” I hear Carla whisper harshly, her voice muffled by what I assume is her hand over the mouthpiece.
I can’t make out what he says in response, which is probably because he’s storming away from her, and it’s then that I realize he didn’t call me; Carla did.
Carla sighs, and then I hear her say, “Amy?”
I swallow thickly and nod. “Yeah. I’m here.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I thought I could get him to talk to you.”
“No. It’s, um…it’s fine. I get it.” I’m trying to fight back more tears, not wanting to sully my first actual date with Owen. “I’m just glad to know he made it back safe. I was afraid with the way he left and that storm that…I was just afraid.”
“He actually just got back a couple hours ago. He wound up staying in the city last night, not wanting to brave the highway.”