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“It really is. We’ve found some truly awful movies this way,” he laughs. “But we’ve found some good shows too. I even went home and binged the rest of the episodes after watching the first one here.”
“What happens if the second dice roll is the same as the first? Do you re-roll or just watch the same thing twice?”
“Not possible to get the same thing twice,” Taylor says, rolling her eyes at me. “When we roll the dice again, we count down from the show we’re on. Not from the beginning.”
There’s a knock on the door and a tall, handsome man walks in, carrying a huge stack of pizza boxes. It looks like there’s enough for us to each have our own. “Pizzas here,” he says, setting it on a table near the door.
“Thanks, Daddy,” Taylor says. There’s that honey-sweet voice again.
I look around the room. From Ethan, to the screen, to the pizza. “Hang on,” I say. “So, we are just literally Netflix and chilling?”
Ethan bursts out laughing. I chuckle nervously. “Yes,” he says. “But you should have seen your face! Priceless.”
I try to slap him again, but Ethan catches my hand and uses it to twist me around. He begins tickling me and I squeal as I try to get away. I don’t remember ever being this ticklish in my life. Something about Ethan’s hotness makes the experience much more enjoyable. I don’t realize the other kids are watching us until Taylor speaks up.
“Listen, if you want a room, that’s fine. There’s eleven bedrooms upstairs to choose from. Take your pick. But the rest of us actually want to hear the movie.”
Ethan releases me and I push my hair out of my face. “Why don’t we let Emma roll first?” Ethan asks.
Taylor juts her bottom lip out. “But…”
“Yeah, another guy says. All of us have had a turn. Let Emma start this time.”
“Okay,” Taylor says, pouting her lips like a scolded toddler. She passes the dice over to us. Ethan reaches for them and hands one to me.
“This is for how many rows down,” he says.
I roll a four. Taylor moves the remote down four rows.
“This is for how many shows over,” he says, handing me the other dice.
I roll a six. Taylor moves over six shows. We land on a terrible looking horror movie. We read the premise and it sounds absolutely ridiculous.
“Nice one,” Taylor says, just loud enough for all to hear.
I squirm against the seat.
“Don’t listen to her,” Ethan whispers. “She’s kind of a spoiled brat sometimes. She’s used to having things her way.”
I want to ask why he’s friends with her then, but I keep my mouth shut. Taylor passes out the pizza and we all take a few slices. I keep thinking Ethan will move his arm at some point, but it doesn’t budge off my shoulder. Even when he has to eat one-handed. The movie starts and the story is completely unbelievable. The acting is excruciatingly terrible. We laugh out loud when the scene is supposed to be terrifying. Ethan starts making up commentary. Mimicking character voices when the movie is supposed to be tense and silent. A couple of the other guys join in.
Taylor switches the lights off once we’re all done eating. In the dark of the theater, Ethan begins rubbing my arm up and down, tickling it with his fingertips. His hand is gentle but effective. Tingles run down my spine. The heat from his touch creeps up my neck. I can barely focus on the movie. Not that there is much to focus on. I glance around the room and see that Taylor has climbed onto the lap of an attractive baseball player and is busy making out with him. Talk about needing a room, I think.
Ethan’s funny commentary eventually helps me to relax and by the end of the movie, I’m making comments on the subpar special effects that leave everyone in stitches.
“I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard at a movie in my entire life, thanks Emma,” Henry says.
“Brilliant choice,” someone else comments from the back.
“Good work, Emma.”
When Taylor turns the light back on, I’m sure Ethan will stop touching me. He probably doesn’t want his friends to see. But as Taylor flips the lights on, his hand doesn’t budge.
“You have the softest skin,” he says. My face flushes with heat. “And you’re adorable when you blush,” he whispers. “I’m serious though, Jackson, feel her skin,” he says to the guy next to us. I wish I could hide, but there’s nowhere to go. Jacksonreaches over and gently touches my arm with his fingertips. “Woah,” he says. “Wait, is that for real?” He stands up and moves closer, touching my arm with his whole hand this time. “How are you that soft?” he asks.
“I want to feel.” Another kid gets up and comes over. He touches my arm with his hand. “Wow, you guys weren’t kidding.”
Pretty soon, I feel like a new puppy. Everyone wants a turn petting me. I’m not sure how to handle this kind of attention. The guys all feel entitled to touch my skin, even though none of them asked. I feel so awkward. This is almost worse than throwing up in front of the entire school. I laugh nervously and bury my face in Ethan’s shoulder.
