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“Oh, I’ll get it,” said Brielle. “You made the lunch we had the other day.”
“Already bought,” said Archer, heading for one of the automatic ticket kiosks. Brielle clutched her handbag as she stood behind him, wondering if this was okay. He may have more money than her—and her school loan was about to come due before she knew it—but him treating her more than once made this feel more real.
Like the start of an actual, real relationship.
The thought filled her with more panic than the thought of finally getting a positive response from one of her job applications.
She took a deep breath. This wasn’t Daniel. This wasn’t a mistake. But it wasn’t in her plans, and that’s why it felt like it was.
“That’s so cool that you’re driving,” she said, for want of something else to focus on. She needed her heart to stop beating quite so quickly every time she looked down at him.
“I just started this week,” said Archer, and he surprised her by wheeling ahead of her and getting the next door. He pulled it open with such finesse, she felt stupid for scrambling to get the door for him before. “Long overdue, I know.”
“Thanks,” she said, referring to the door. “No, I understand. I was scared enough learning to drive as a teen. I couldn’t imagine learning how to handle all those buttons and levers.”
He laughed as he handed the tickets over to the greeter. “Now I feel like I’m piloting a spaceship or something.” He pointed to the concession stand. “Want anything?”
“No thanks. A bit overpriced.”And I don’t think I should encourage you to offer to pay again.“But I’ll get you something if you want it. To pay back for the ticket.”
“Don’t worry about it. So,” he said, swallowing, “you’ve had a busy week?”
“Yeah.” Brielle tucked her hair behind her ear as she walked into the theater. “Cleaning. Applying for jobs. Applying for more jobs.”
“You’re really determined to leave this place, aren’t you?” He winced as he headed toward their seats—or more accurately, her seat next to an empty spot in the front row. “Sorry, he said, as she sat down. “I’m not saying I blame you.”
There was a bar practically at her chin level in front of her, and she shifted uncomfortably, gripping both armrests and trying to slouch slightly so her neck didn’t strain as much looking up at the screen. She’d never sat so close before. “I’m not trying to leave,” she said, shrugging. “Although I guess I figured I would. But if I found a good job here that could help me afford to live on my own…” She left the sentence unfinished. “But I don’t think this place is ripe with jobs for history and philosophy majors.”
“We have a few museums downtown,” said Archer, examining his hands. He’d pulled his chair close.Reallyclose. Like practically slamming into her armrest.
“I guess I could get some experience there and leave later,” said Brielle, thinking it over. “But I haven’t seen a single job posting for any of them.” She watched Archer for a minute and wondered what he was thinking. “What about you—have you ever thought about leaving the area?”
“I can do my job anywhere.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen before switching it off, reminding Brielle to do the same. She saw a message from Pembroke waiting for her and felt a jolt in her stomach. To be fair, she’d been ignoring her for far too long after that comic shop fiasco. But she didn’t feel like dealing with it all just then.
“Then why not go elsewhere?” She switched off her phone. Then she felt obtuse again—he had concerns she couldn’t even dream of, probably needed to be closer to his family than she did. His family certainlycaredabout him staying closer than hers did. She didn’t even have grandparents or aunts or uncles to speak of, not if you didn’t count her dad’s family, which she didn’t. It was just her, her mom, and Nora, and they seemed to be functioning (or disfunctioning) as their own little two-person unit, letting her stop back in as a guest, eager to get her back out the door.
“Why not?” he pondered, and he genuinely seemed curious. “I couldn’t tell you, really. Just that… I’m too scared to. I’m not sure my parents would support it. Well, maybe my dad would…”
“Do you even want to go somewhere else?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a reason to. It seemed too much work to bother.”
Brielle wasn’t sure if he really wanted to and his situation was holding him back or if he actually didn’t care. She opened her mouth to say something more, but the theater darkened and the commercials before the previews before the movie began. She slid back into her seat and did her best to get comfortable.
But it was hard to focus when, a few minutes into the movie, Archer slid his hand over hers.
* * *
“Icould seethis on your wall,” said Brielle, pulling a canvas print of an old cover ofThe Uncanny X-Menout from behind a display of city scenes, flowers, and inspirational sayings. “Although it’s too bad there’s none of your art in here.”
Shimmying his wheelchair backward into the cramped aisle to try to get a closer look, Archer laughed. “The Mystifiedis popular, but not‘generic wall art’ popular. I don’t think anyone outside of comic circles really knows it. And I haven’t been doing the art long enough to be the one whose work would be a print.”
“I was thinking more ofWheels.” The fake-faded design on the canvas appealed to her. She wasn’t even sure where she ranked theX-Menin terms of favorite superheroes, but they looked more colorful here than they did in the movies.
“That wouldneverhappen.” His chuckle and that smile—the slight, sensuous curve of his lips—made her knees buckle. This was why she’d waited to see him again. This was why this was all a bad idea. Because part of her really, really wanted this to make sense.
“Oo, I bet you could get some canvas of your art printed from a place online.” She started putting theX-Mencanvas back, but he grabbed it out of her hands. She smiled and shifted other canvases around until she found a fadedCaptain Americaprinting. “Like Cap?” she asked, holding it up.
“Give or take. Not really until the movies.” He studied theX-Mencanvas a moment and settled it on his lap. “You know, when you said I should add some comic book décor to my condo, I didn’t actually expect us to go looking at a general discount store.” He nodded toward the fluffy, bright pink pillows stuffing a shelf to capacity a few feet away. “I didn’t think we’d find anything crammed among general décor like that.”
