Filmed: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (City Series Book 3) (10 page)

Bored and content, I pulled out my laptop and logged into Facebook. Without thinking, I clicked the icon that said I had a message, and stared at Noah’s grinning face.

Noah: Where’d you run off to tonight?

He had sent it about five minutes ago, just as I began to get off while imagining his perfect body wrapped around me. It was almost like he had a sixth sense for when a girl was masturbating to him.

What a creep. And yet there I was, unable to stop myself from getting off at the mere thought of what he could do to my body.

I stared at his message for a while, wondering what to do. I knew what Chris would say if she were in the room, though I was pretty glad she wasn’t. But I wasn’t Chris, and I was still hurt and annoyed, even if I had just imagined how it would feel to slide myself down along him in an empty movie theater.

As I was just about to shut the laptop lid in a huff, I got another message.

Noah: Hey, you there? Is everything okay? I’m a little worried.

I rolled my eyes. Was he for real? There was no way Noah Carterson was losing any of his peace of mind over me. Maybe I had left him a little sexually frustrated, but he definitely deserved that. Really, he deserved way more than that. He had gotten off easy, or not gotten off, as the case may be.

With a sharp exhale, I slammed my laptop lid shut. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of buying into his whole “worried guy” routine. Let him be worried, if he really was. The asshole could probably figure out what the issue was on his own.

I climbed out of bed, changed into more comfortable clothes, and began to dedicate myself to the almost pointless task of trying to read for class. My mind was spinning in a million different directions, but I still had to be prepared for my classes.

Even if the only thing I really wanted to do was curl up in my bed and dream of mainlining a whole shipping container full of junk food.

Y
ou can cast your net as wide as you want, you can look as far as possible, you can create the largest pool of people possible, but in the end you’re always stuck with those you’re closest to. You don’t always get to choose who that is, and sometimes they sneak up on you and appear in the frame. Regardless of what happens, you just keep coming back, you keep getting put into the same bit role and you love it because that’s who you are. You’re not acting when you’re playing yourself.

I walked through campus after hours, the sun slowly setting over the tallest buildings, the light reflected in glass, and the streets beginning to simmer, and I thought about my mom in her early days. Women had to struggle back then, even more than they do now, especially women in industries dominated by men. The film industry was one such place, and my mom probably had it harder than I could ever imagine. Then one day, she wrote a bad review about the wrong person’s movie, and got blackballed.

It was a miracle she survived it. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she had decided to curl up into a ball in her old crappy apartment and cried herself to sleep. And she probably did, but the difference between her and all those other people that never made it was that she got up afterward, put on her best outfit, fixed her mascara, and got the fuck back out into the world. That was my mom: she could take a hit, but she’d always keep trying.

Which is why I kept walking toward the student center, despite the heavy stone in my gut and the fear in my chest. I was going to have to interact with Noah, no matter what I wanted, if I was going to be able to do my job. I couldn’t quit, because I genuinely needed the money, but more than that, I wasn’t the kind of person to let a guy dictate what I did. I was going to try and get through it, and avoid Noah the best I could. If my mother could deal with his father trying to destroy her career, and end up even better off for it, then I can deal with Noah and his lying. I didn’t need to like him to work with him.

The walk felt longer than usual as I picked my way through the dying post-class crowds, feeling anxious but not letting it overwhelm me. On the one hand, I wanted to immediately talk to Noah, and to confront him about the lie; on the other, I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and kiss his mouth again, maybe find out exactly where things would have gone if the Wonder Twin hadn’t interrupted us. I knew that was crazy, but I couldn’t help it. There was too much between us to ignore, too many coincidences; he may have been an asshole, but there something beneath what he said and what he did, and it was that core of goodness that I wanted to uncover.

As I trotted down the steps, psyching myself up for a long night of ignoring him, I began to wonder if I’d ever get a chance to unmask him, or even if I wanted to anymore. Before, he was just the bad boy player with a messy past; now, though, he was the guy who lied to me, and whose father destroyed my mother’s early career.

The more I found out about Noah, the more I wanted him and hated him.

Chelsea was sitting in her usual spot as I turned the corner and entered the theater’s lobby. I gave her a little wave as I dropped my bag off and looked around. The Wonder Twins were busy behind the concession stand, apparently working for once, and Miss Havisham was busy trying to set up a cardboard cutout for the latest indie film we’d be showing. I kept scanning the room, and I realized that Noah was nowhere in sight. My heart began to beat fast, and I was suddenly hopeful. Maybe he had called out sick, or maybe he had decided to quit. I hadn’t gotten any more messages from him on Facebook, so I had no clue what was going on. Maybe I wouldn’t have to deal with him at all.

But that was just wishful thinking. Noah appeared from the smallest of the three theaters carrying cleaning supplies, and he immediately caught my eye. He gave me a small grin, the cockiest look I had ever seen, and I wanted to slap it off his perfect face. My torn, dual feelings for him came flooding back instantly as I looked at him in his tight black uniform T-shirt showing off his perfect body, and his nicely styled but messy hair. I quickly looked away from him and strode over to Miss Havisham, trying to cut him off before he had the chance to say anything.

“Hi, Miss H, need any help?” I asked.

She was struggling with the cutout, obviously trying to unfold the stands in the back and obviously failing.

“Linda, hello, no thank you.” She shook her hair, her hair frizzy and flying all over the place. She looked frazzled, and I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. She noticed, and gave me a pleasant smiled in return.

“I look pretty crazy, don’t I?” she asked.

“No, not at all, I’m just laughing at the cutout,” I said, stumbling.

“It is a very funny cutout, Miss H,” Noah said, appearing beside me. I wanted to stomp on his foot with my heel or maybe rip off his earlobe. Instead, I looked back at Miss H and smiled sweetly.

“What do you need me to do tonight?” I asked.

“Oh, you’re with Noah again, dear.”

Damn. Exactly what I was hoping to avoid.

“I’m feeling much more comfortable,” I said, trying to prompt her.

“Good dear, good to hear.” She was already back at it, trying to unfold the cutout. I could feel Noah by my side practically beaming with joy. After a second, I walked off toward the supply closet, deciding I’d give the theaters a quick sweep before the ticket rush started.

Noah followed me. “Hey, dots, how’s it going?” he called out.

I ignored him and kept walking. I got to the closet, pulled the door open, and grabbed a broom and a long dustpan. I felt Noah loom up behind me, and before he could speak, I spun on him.

“Listen to me, Noah. Stop calling me dots. Actually, stop talking to me. I don’t want to hear from you at all tonight. No more perverted comments, no more jokes, just leave me alone.” I stared at him, my face hard and angry. Concern washed over his face for a brief moment, and I was surprised at his reaction. But just as quickly, it disappeared, replaced by his cocky grin.

“Whatever you say, dots. You’re on tickets again.”

Before I could yell at him some more, he spun around and stalked off.

I stood there alone in the supply closet, clutching my dustpan and broom, fuming. He didn’t seem to give a shit at all about how I felt. He didn’t try to explain or ask what was bothering me. He knew I was upset with him, but he did nothing to try and fix any of it. Instead, he stormed off like a child. I wanted to smash something, break a light, preferably over Noah’s head. I imagined a scenario involving bricks and Noah’s kneecaps when Chuck walked into the closet.

“Oh, hey there Linda,” he said, grinning jovially.

“What, Chuck?” I snapped at him.

He caught the expression on my face. “Whoa, sorry. You okay?”

I took a deep breath. I was suddenly lashing out at Chuck, probably the most harmless guy in the world. He may have been goofy, but he was incredibly nice. I felt pretty guilty, and the anger I felt at Noah began to slip away.

“I’m sorry, sorry I snapped,” I said.

He shrugged, grabbing a stack of unopened popcorn buckets.

“Don’t worry about it. Anything you want to chat about?”

“No, thanks. I’ll be fine. Just gathering myself.”

He nodded, his face serious. “If you need some popcorn, or candy, or soda, just give me the sign. I can get you a fix, stat.”

I laughed, and I felt the tension in my body suddenly break. “Thanks Chuck, I might take you up on that.”

“Good. They call me the sugar paramedic.”

“Who does?”

“Well, bye!” He gave me a comical wave and scampered back into the theater.

I smiled and laughed softly to myself as he left. I took a few deep breaths, and the anger completely dissipated. I couldn’t believe I was acting that way. I didn’t normally have a temper, and I certainly didn’t normally yell at people. I suddenly felt bad about the way I had talked to Noah, although he probably deserved it. I realized how tightly wound I was, torn between two poles, one needing Noah’s body and obsessing about his kiss, and the other angry and betrayed by his lie and his father. I was like a split screen film, one narrative scrolling on the left, and another, opposite narrative on the right. I was stuck between the two, confused and upset. I took another deep breath, needing to gather myself together.

Noah didn’t owe me anything, and I definitely didn’t owe him. We may have had some chemistry, and we kissed once, but that was it. There was too much pulling us apart to make it work. Standing in that closet, feeling guilty and upset and still a little betrayed, I promised myself I’d start getting over him, beginning that night.

I put the broom and dustpan back, steeling myself for the night. I was going to get through it, and I was going to get through the next night, and life would go on. Things were going to be fine. Noah Carterson was just another guy.

I knew I was lying to myself, but it was enough to give me an ounce of courage.

––––––––

T
he night skidded by in fits and jumps, which was how most theaters worked. We had a rush about a half hour to forty minutes before a film was starting, and then there was a long lull while the movies played. During the rush, I took tickets, and that was boring but easy; I knew what I was doing, and I didn’t have to interact with Noah much. During the lull, I kept myself busy, either straightening up the women’s bathroom, or helping the Wonder Twins with the concession stand.

Noah didn’t bother me much, which suited me fine. I guessed he took the hint when I yelled at him, and although I felt bad about that, it did the trick. He wasn’t distant or rude, but he wasn’t going out of his way to be around me, either. Chuck and Mikey didn’t say anything about me hanging around with them, either, which was nice. I guessed Chuck sensed the tension between Noah and me, and he was giving me an out if I wanted it.

Soon, I fell into the swing of things, and began to forget about everything with Noah. He didn’t seem to mind that I was ignoring him, which worked out fine. We fell into a rhythm of mutual, strained politeness, interacting when the job demanded it, but otherwise keeping a distance between us. As the night progressed, I realized Noah wasn’t interacting with any of the other employees. He mostly kept to himself, which was curious to me, since he was incredibly charming and outgoing. I knew he was pretty popular on campus, but at the theater, he was a little quiet.

Toward the end of our shift, I caught him leaning over the box office, chatting with Chelsea. It was the first time he had spoken to someone other than me, and I felt a pang of jealousy shoot through me. Chelsea was pretty in a way I wasn’t, and she had a very bubbly personality, at least from what I’d seen. Noah laughed at something, and I imagined Chelsea giving him her “fuck me” eyes through the glass. I bet he had already spent long nights with her in that little booth. I shook my head, banishing the image from my mind. He could do whatever he wanted. I wasn’t going to play into his little games.

Slowly, too slowly, the night ground to a halt, and I found myself sweeping up the theaters with Noah. We did it in strained silence. Where the night before, we were laughing and making jokes together, that night we were awkward and rushed. We did our work and we did it as quickly as possible. Once we finished, I went to help close up the concession stand, and Noah went to clean the bathrooms.

The bathrooms cleaned, the registers tallied, and the stand closed up, the group of us got together and walked out of the student center basement. Miss Havisham stayed behind to finish some things and to lock up. It felt good to walk out as a group; the night before, I had escaped with my tail between my legs, but I wasn’t going to let Noah ruin my work experience.

As it turned out, Chuck and Mikey were in fact best friends. They grew up together in a small town in Iowa, and they both wanted to get out there as soon as they could. Mike described himself as “gay as a jaybird,” which made me giggle, and Chuck said that he was “ambisexual.” I had no idea what that meant, or why they immediately began to talk about their sexual preferences when I barely knew them, but they were silly and funny in a way I hadn’t seen in a while. People were too jaded and cool, but not the Wonder Twins.