Stolen First Times

3. Who's Counting?

*Primo's POV*

Well, shit.

I was currently in an empty theater, save for the girl beside me who was bawling her eyes out, watching a movie about a girl who got in a car accident which severed her legs, preventing her from ever dancing again.

The storyline wasn't as lame as I thought it would be and I actually paid attention to some parts. But one of those rare attention grasping parts was not what had me frozen stiff in the leather seat.

No, it was the girl with the red hair and running makeup beside me who couldn't seem to catch her breath while sobbing that had me at a loss for what to do. I ran a hand through my white blonde hair and didn't realize I was staring at Destiny until she opened her mouth.

"What are you looking at?" She demanded, narrowing her eyebrows at me.

I winced at seeing her puffy red eyes and clownish mascara streaming down her face.

"Uh," I said, twirling a finger at her cheek, "You have a little something..." And then I gestured my entire palm at her face and said, "Everywhere."

Before either of us saw it coming, the entire bucket of popcorn that had been in my lap was now currently stuck in my hair, down my shirt, and all over the floor because a certain someone had anger issues.

Giving me a pointed look, Destiny waved her hand at my entire body and said, "You got a little something everywhere."

I smirked approvingly, surprised the good girl had just done something so daring. "Touché," I said, popping a piece of fallen popcorn in my mouth with a loud crunch.

The movie ended and I honestly couldn't tell you what else had happened.

I'd been too focused on someone- I mean something else.

Anyway, Destiny and I stood up at the same time while the credits rolled down the massive screen, playing some romantic background music as we scooped up our trash and headed out the doors.

Destiny walked ahead of me, clearly ignoring me and pretending she didn't even know me anymore. I narrowed my eyes on her short form and watched as she tapped a few buttons on her phone before sighing in aggravation when no one picked up her call.

"Come on, Grant," she mumbled through her teeth, obviously pissed off her boyfriend hadn't answered his cell.

"Boyfriend troubles?" I asked, striding right past her once we were outside of the theater.

"None of your beeswax," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest to glare in the opposite direction.

Damn, she was a strange girl with an even stranger personality. Who said 'beeswax' anymore?

Stepping outside in the frigid night air, I shivered and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket, lighting one after a few tries.

I puffed out a cloud of smoke, standing just outside the automatic doors to fish through the deep pockets of my cargo pants, looking for my keys when a voice spoke up from behind me.

"Can you, uh, give me a lift?"

I slowly took my time as I turned around, making a point of having to crane my neck to see the tiny girl in front of me. Gray eyes darted away from mine as her cheeks turned a faint pink in embarrassment.