Movie Theatre (F/NF)

There were two things Kasey hated in movies, and this film had them both.

The subject of her current irritation was an in-car conversation. She couldn't stand to see the characters looking at each other and not the road, and so Kasey lowered her eyes, fixating on the skull-shaped bubblegum someone had left on the back a nearby the seat . She was often tempted to write the actors of these shows and politely suggest that they could increase the realism of their acting by looking at the road, but she never wrote such letters. Sending acting tips to actors would be rude and precocious, and Kasey was neither of these things. It was, in fact, this very characteristic that led Kasey to this moment.

She heard someone breathe beside her. It was a deep, wet breath, and was much closer to her right ear than was either necessary or desirable. She couldn't feel or smell the breath, and for that she was grateful. Turning her head slowly, so as to not attract the attention of her date, Kasey glared at the boy beside her. He was plump, and even in the darkness she could see the profile of his twisted teeth.

"Gross." She could not help thinking about it. She, herself, did not have perfect teeth, and she certainly didn't expect others too, but severely messed up teeth was the one physical attribute that bugged her, and bugged her this did. She returned her eyes to the screen.

She was not the type to go on a date with someone she disliked. However, this boy (in spite of his ravenous teeth) had so far fallen into the "neutral" category. It was her belief that one did not have to be attracted to someone to go out with them. Attraction could develop, and if a "neutral" boy asked, you should say yes at least once.

He did not know this, but this date had not gone well. She would not say yes a second time.

He had been leaning towards her the entire time—far more that was natural—and despite the fact that she had clearly retreated to the far side of her seat, he now leaned more, allowing his arm to fall onto her chair. It did not touch her. She'd have to remember to thank God for her small frame.

"Wow," she thought. "He really is oblivious to body language." This was the third time this evening he had invaded her personal space, and it was the third time he ignored the obviousness of her reactions. She pulled her feet up onto the tip of her seat, pressing her knees to her chin, and wrapped her arms around her legs.

"Are you cold?" His voice was hickish, and had no element of charm.

Kasey was quick. "No, I like to sit like this." This statement carried no tone of sarcasm, and was technically a fact. She did find that position comfortable, but she had not chosen it for it's coziness. She smiled as she pondered saying "I'm trying to stay away from you," instead. She often thought of the things she should have said after it was too late, but in the end it rarely mattered because, as stated, Kasey was not rude.

In actuality, she was a bit cold. Theaters always left her chilly, but she was far from admitting this to him. She would not take his jacket, and she would most certainly would not give him further excuse to further attempt snuggling with her.

Earlier on that date he kept poking her in her side while they walked to the theatre. She did not giggle, she did not smile, she did not flirt. She had crossed her arms and moved away. Oblivious then as he was in the theatre now, he had taken no notice of her body language and had kept trying to poke her.

Thad been the second instance of persistent personal space invasion on this date. It had also doubled as the point of the date in which she she changed her perception of him. He was no longer a dorky hick who acted a little odd socially because of his lack of self confidence. That would have been forgivable, but, as he continually poked, he had made the transformation into "creep."

Now as she sat curled on the far side of her seat, waiting for the film to end, Kacey was unaware that his creepiest transgression was yet to come. She was, however, completely aware that God had played the age old geenie trick on her: Be careful what you pray for.

"Just a date," she had pleaded. "All I want is to go on a date... it has been so long," and after much patience, He had given her precisely what she had prayed for—just a date. It was a date striped of all positive experience.

Next time, she realized, she would have to be more specific and pray for a good date.