Into the Velvet

Fourteen Days Until

(1:22pm) Sami: Hey Louise. Hope you're enjoying your break! I know I am. If anyone in my family asks, do you mind telling them that I was at your house this weekend? Paige booked us a hotel room for our two-month anniversary

(4:01pm) Louise: Consider it done. Hope you have a blast! If Amos or Bianca ask, can you tell them I was looking at colleges this weekend? I've been pretty busyuigfh ishsf

(4:02pm) Sami: Uh, sure! Happy to help.

Texting while kissing was not a task for the simple-minded.

"Who's that?" Henry murmured against my lips, drawing my bottom lip into his mouth. The door behind me was cool and solid —I had to find purchase against it as Henry held me up, our bodies hidden by shadows.

He made it impossible to give him an answer. My mouth could barely make out the name, "Sami," before he reclaimed it once more.

We had made our way across two different towns just to watch a movie screening that had started two minutes ago. At the time, I thought it had been a good idea to try our luck at a proper date. We'd encountered several problems so far — one, it was nearly impossible to decide on a place and time that would definitely ensure we wouldn't be discovered. And two...

Henry couldn't keep his hands and mouth to himself.

"We're going to miss the movie," I complained as his lips travelled from my jaw to my neck. I didn't sound that upset.

"Honestly, screw the movie," he muttered.

The summer dress I'd worn for the occasion was riding dangerously high, and Henry took full advantage. My mouth sought his greedily as his hands travelled over the length of my body. Stopping once he found bare leg, moving under the fabric, skimming over my underwear, exploring bare midriff, and my leg hooked over the back of his, urging him on—

And then the door to the storage room, which we had been braced against, swung open.

I couldn't tell who in this situation felt more awkward — me or the flustered cinema employee from behind the door, who turned as red as the mop he was holding. Henry simply laughed, patted my dress down, and tugged my arm towards the corner bend.

"Run," he whispered. Holding hands, giggling, we ran as fast as possible in the opposite direction, heading to where our movie was playing. The door was closed. Henry swung it wide open, pulling me through with him. We were enshrined in darkness.

The black and white movie had just started — chosen by Henry on the grounds of it being a Steinbeck classic. As we'd secretly hoped, nobody else had thought to catch a nostalgic screening of 'The Grapes of Wrath' in the middle of the afternoon. All the seats were empty.

"There's nobody here. This is a tragedy," I said, leading Henry to the very back row of seats.

"An absolute travesty." He shook his head. "Every great film screening deserves a full house."

Like we hadn't both wanted the same thing.

As it happens, there were certain clichés that, when enjoyed with the right person, didn't feel tacky after all. Making out with a hot boy in a dark theatre room was one of them.

Henry's physical intensity would never become a cause for concern. It had thrilled me at the time, and never made me question his intentions. To be wanted so badly by this man, when I had resigned myself to the reality that I could never be with him, was intoxicating. It allowed me to give into my most ardent impulses, without fear of being rebuked. Henry responded to my touch every single time, giving back and then some — surrendering so gladly to our shared self-annihilation. It made me feel as if he were mine.