Free The Second Virginity of Suzy Green by Sara Hantz Page B

watching the road.
    He either means
it, which is a huge worry, or he’s saying it to be kind and make me feel
better. I prefer the latter.
    “What movie are
we going to see?” You’d have thought I’d have asked before now, but to be
honest it completely slipped my mind. And I don’t actually care. As long as
it’s not that new sci-fi wanna-be Star Wars movie just released. I can’t
remember what it’s called but it’s got Mars in it. Or is it Pluto? Whatever, I
hate that sort of movie.
    “Jupiter Force.”
That’s the one. Shit. “Is that okay?”
    “Um, yeah.
Great.” Well, I did say I wasn’t really bothered. And it might be okay. I’m
prepared to give it a chance. “As long as I can choose next time.” Like there’s
going to be a next time after a nearly argument and a misunderstanding. And
that’s before we’ve even got there.
    “It’s a deal.”
    I spend the
remainder of the journey, which is all of two minutes, debating which movie
I’ll take him to. Should I go for something funny? Which is my usual
preference. Or what about something romantic? Nah. I can’t hack that. Or
something scary so we can hold hands and snuggle up close? Would that be
classed as exceptional circumstance in the handbook?
    ***
    “Now what?” Guy
says turning to me as we see flashing red letters on the overhead screen saying
that Jupiter Force is sold out. “I was so looking forward to seeing it.” He
looks really dejected.
    “Yeah, me too.”
I shake my head and try to look as sad as him. But it’s hard. “Let’s go to
something else. What about the one based on that Stephen King book?” A snuggle
up scary movie, if ever there was one.
    “You like that
sort of thing?” His voice is a mixture of amusement and disbelief.
    “Sure. I love
his books and most of the movies have been really good. Don’t you like him?” Hope
I’m not stepping too far away from my newly cultivated image. I don’t want to
blow everything.
    “He’s okay. Not
my first choice, but I’m game if you are.” He shrugs.
    After buying the
tickets we head for the popcorn and buy a very large, as in the largest, tub.
At last. Something we’re in accord about. I toy with asking for one of those
ice-creams covered in chocolate and nuts as well, but decide he might think me
greedy. Especially as we’ve only just eaten tea.
    “Shall we sit in
the back row?” he whispers in my ear as we walk in and see the advertisements
already playing. “There are a couple of empty seats up there.”
    Back row. Like
he needs to ask. Things are definitely looking up.
    The film starts
pretty much as soon as we sit down, so no time for any cozy head-next-to-head
chatting. And the popcorn is on the armrest between us. I think about moving it
onto my lap which means Guy would have to lean over every time he wants some,
but I don’t want him to think I’m taking it so I can eat it all. Of course, I
could place it in his lap then I’d have to lean over and who knows what might
happen when I’m fumbling in the dark and not concentrating where my hand is
going because my eyes are glued to the screen. Trouble is if I do that he might
go bouncing up on stage at the next VC meeting dragging me with him to confess
all my impure thoughts—something to be avoided at all costs. I didn’t realize
popcorn could be at the centre of such monumental decisions. Maybe it’s for the
best if I leave it where it is.
    I reach into the
tub to grab a handful, except my hand isn’t the only one in there.
    “Sorry,” I
whisper.
    “No worries,”
Guy replies, quickly taking his hand out of the tub. You know what, I can see
me and the Handbook coming to serious blows if this is how it’s going to affect
any physical contact between us.
    The movie sucks
me in almost straight away and before I know it the credits are rolling and I
suddenly remember Guy is sitting beside me.
    “Starbucks?” Guy
asks as we leave the movies.
    Before I have
the chance to do anything other than