Page 36 of Before We Break

NINE

CRYING OVER FICTIONAL DINOSAURS IS PERFECTLY NORMAL

♫ People Watching - Conan Gray

CLIO

“Extra butter?” I ask Lexi as we stand in line at the movie theatre concession line.

“Obviously.”

The Grove is packed for this weekend’s retro movie marathon featuring The Land Before Time. I slide my card across the counter to pay for our snacks and hand the drinks to Lexi while I fill my pockets with M&M’s and Twizzlers, and I grab the huge bag of popcorn.

We take our usual seats in the back row; it’s the best view in the place. The Grove only has one auditorium and a single screen, and it’s rare that we get any new titles until months after they come out. There isn’t much to do in Willow Valley, so the Grove stays busy regardless. I do wish they’d upgrade the seating, though. My thighs weren’t made to squish between these armrests.

“Lexi!” Auggie rushes up the steps, stopping one row shy of where we’re seated. “You like dinosaurs, too?” he asks, all wide-eyed excitement.

Lexi giggles. “I sure do.”

Noah stops beside him, palming his shoulders. “What did I tell you about running away from me?”

“Sorry, Uncle Noah.” He tilts his head and juts his lip out in an adorable pout.

“It’s fine,” Noah says, capitulating to the easy manipulation.

I can’t help but laugh. Lexi used to get me with that same look, but I learned to spot the deception as time went on. Noah hasn’t been a parent long enough to figure it out yet, and I’m not about to tell him. I’m team Auggie all the way.

“Do you want to sit with me?” Lexi pats the seat next to her.

“Yes!” Auggie climbs into it, his short legs dangling about a foot off the ground. Lexi holds out the bucket of popcorn and offers him some. He gleefully takes a handful and shoves it into his mouth while Noah sets up the caption box for him that fits into the cup holder. It syncs to the movie’s audio so he can read along if he wants. Auggie is one of the most advanced readers in my class.

Noah hands Auggie his slushy, then he stands there awkwardly with a small popcorn in his hand. There’s only one extra spot open in our row, and it’s on the aisle directly to my right.

“Come on, babe,” I tease. “I saved you a seat.”

Lexi’s head snaps in my direction, and her brow furrows.

“Long story. I’ll tell you later.”

Noah slumps into the spot like he’d rather be anywhere else. His thigh bumps mine, and he shifts to seemingly put some distance between us, but it’s no use. I set my hand on his knee, halting his movements. He glances down at where we’re connected before meeting my gaze, twin pools of vibrant blue spearing straight through me.

“You could at least pretend you like me,” I whisper. “You never know who’s watching.”

It’s been less than twenty-four hours since everything went down, and the rumor mill’s been churning, but it’s not widespread news yet. I expect I’ll have to answer a million questions from my colleagues on Monday. It’s probably best if I formally disclose the relationship to the board sooner rather than later.

The theatre lights dim, and the screen illuminates with vintage trailers for classic nineties movies. It’s nostalgic in the very best way.

I reach for a handful of popcorn, but Lexi has it tucked between her and Auggie, so I go for the small one in Noah’s hands instead. Our fingers brush as he reaches into the bag at the same time. After the longest three seconds of my life, he brings the popcorn to his mouth. It’s as if everything is moving in slow motion.

He doesn’t look away, and I can’t bring myself to either.

I take a bite, and when the flavor hits my tongue, it’s familiar but wrong. There’s not nearly enough butter to be satisfying. I grimace.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I can still taste the popcorn.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.”