Filmed: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (City Series Book 3) (12 page)

Looking around idly at my neat and nicely decorated apartment, mainly all thanks to Chris and her impeccable taste, I decided I’d call my mom the next day and tell her everything.

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I
t was another warm afternoon as I made my way across campus, dodging groups of bored-looking kids talking about whatever. The night before was spent thinking about Noah’s fingers slicked up inside me, his warm breath against my neck, and how badly I wanted him to take me, right there, against the wall. I briefly wondered how many other girls he got off in public, but I immediately banished that idea from my mind. It was a waste of time and energy to get into that obsession spiral. My heart began to hammer as I thought about what I’d say to him when I saw him in class.

I walked into the building and crossed the lobby. Old green and brown chairs were lined up against the walls, obviously unchanged since the 70s. I found the stairwell and started to climb, my nervousness mounting with each step.

I had no clue what I was so nervous about. It was true that I hadn’t spoken to Noah since the night before, but he didn’t seem like the type to text every single girl he finger-banged the next morning. The problem was, I had no clue where I stood with him. He was a rich, arrogant asshole, and yet he seemed to have some weird interest in me. I couldn’t tell if it was because I was his next conquest, or if we really did have as much in common as I thought we did.

Pushing through the door to my classroom, I banished all thoughts of Noah. It was time to buckle down and pay attention to the lectures. I could worry about him some other time, maybe when I didn’t have to take copious notes just to keep up with Professor Johnson’s meandering lecture style.

As the period began, and Professor Johnson started to speak, I looked around the room. Noah was nowhere in sight, and for a brief second I was worried about him. That was irrational, but I couldn’t help it. He was usually late, but he almost always came to class eventually. Suddenly, I heard my phone vibrate in my bag. Trying to be as quiet and sneaky as possible, I reached down, unzipped the front compartment, and pulled it out.

Noah: Dots, gotta miss class. Bring your notes to work?

Me: Sure, is everything okay?

Noah: All good. See you tonight.

I put my phone away, not wanting to be completely rude, and tried to zone in on the lecture, but I couldn’t shake the nagging doubts. Was Noah skipping because he didn’t want to run into me? Frustrated, I began to double down on my efforts to take notes. I’d see him that night. Maybe then I could get a sense for what was going on.

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A
fter class, I sat down on a bench near the bell tower, and watched people walk by for a while. It was one of my favorite things to do, people watch, especially on warm days on campus. The sheer number of different people that wandered around kept me entertained for hours; I loved having nothing to do, and doing it.

Eventually, the crowds thinned out as the next class period started up, and I pulled out my phone. I knew my mom would be home, since it was Wednesday and she didn’t have class or office hours. I dialed my home number, and let it ring. The answering machine picked up.

“Hello, hello, it’s me, your daughter, are you home?” I said, pausing. My parents were crazy and loved to screen their calls.

The other line clicked. “Hello, daughter!” my dad said.

“Hi, Dad. How’s it going?”

“I’m okay, no class today?”

“I just got out of my film history course.”

“Great! Want to hear something interesting?”

Inwardly, I groaned. I knew that the correct answer was always “yes,” but I also knew that would mean listening to my dad explain something he found incredibly fascinating that I didn’t care about one bit.

“Sure Dad, what’s up?” I said. I hadn’t talked to him in a while, and I felt a little guilty about that.

“Well, did you know...” He launched into a story about classical debt theory and the barter system. I spaced out about five minutes in, but kept making small noises of assent as he went on and on.

Finally, there was a short silence on the other end. I perked up immediately.

“Well sweetie, your mother just gave me the ‘shut up’ sign, so I guess we’re done. Want to talk to her?”

“Sure Dad, thanks,” I said.

I heard some muffled noises as he handed the phone over to my mom. I felt a little guilty that I hadn’t paid much attention, but he could be pretty oblivious. We didn’t have a bad relationship, in all honesty, but it was more like we didn’t have a relationship at all. He mostly kept to himself, worked on his books, and loved to hear himself talk.

“Hi, Linda,” my mom said.

“Hey, Mom, how are you?”

“Oh I’m good. Sorry about your dad.”

I laughed. “It’s okay. Did he just read a book or something?”

“How can you tell?”

“I was starting to think he took up economics without anyone noticing.”

“That would be the day.”

I laughed again, and felt immediately better. My mom had a knack for identifying and pointing out exactly when we’re all being absurd, and my dad was no exception.

“So, I wanted to ask you something,” I said, suddenly feeling nervous.

I looked out across the grass toward a set of trees planted in a small hillside, providing shade for the sidewalks. Groups of kids sat around them, studying and socializing. Briefly, I wondered how many of them called their parents almost every day.

“I’m all ears,” she replied.

“Well, it’s about Noah Carterson.”

“Ah, this again.” She didn’t sound excited.

“Have you had any contact with his dad since, you know?”

She sighed. “Look, Linda, sweetie. This is a bad memory for me. It’s not something I really want to talk about.”

“I know Mom, I’m just trying to get a sense for this guy.”

“I understand. I really don’t want to talk about that part of my life anymore, but I’d be happy to talk to you about Noah. Let’s just stay away from his dad.”

I was pretty surprised at her response. Usually, once I got her going, there was no topic off-limits. Suddenly, though, this part of her life was something we couldn’t bring up, and it felt strange. My mom was never one for huge displays of emotion, or really anything dramatic. It must have been incredibly painful if she really wasn’t willing to go into it at all.

“Okay Mom, I promise not to ask again,” I said.

“Thanks, I appreciate that. How’s Professor Johnson treating you?”

We went off on a tangent about Professor Johnson, but I couldn’t get the tone of her voice out of my head. It was painful, and sad, and a still little angry. Not angry with me, but with Noah’s dad.

As I hung up the phone, I began to suspect that I hadn’t been told the whole story. It was pretty awful that he had tried to ruin her career; there was no doubt about that. But I sensed that there was something more to it. If there wasn’t, then I thought she’d be more willing to at least entertain the notion of talking about that family.

Instead, there was clearly a well of pain I hadn’t noticed before. I got up from my bench and began to walk back to my apartment, completely stumped as to what that was. I couldn’t imagine what would possibly make my mom still hate to talk about that man, despite however many years having passed. For some reason, it felt as if the wound was still fresh. Confused, I climbed the steps to my apartment, went upstairs, and began to get changed for work.

I
climbed down the steps and into the theater’s main lobby wearing my usual work uniform. I was still buzzing with curiosity over my mom’s reaction over the phone, but I was also beginning to feel guilty. I knew that she didn’t want to talk about it from the beginning, and yet I was willing to push her beyond her comfort zone for the sake of learning about Noah. That shouldn’t have been something I was willing to do; I should have much more interest in preserving her feelings, rather than pumping her for information.

Chelsea was sitting in the box office, and gave me a small wave. I smiled back as I dropped off my stuff. The Wonder Twins were busy setting up the concession stand, and Noah was nowhere in sight. I guessed he was either setting up the projectors or sweeping out the theaters. Miss H was in her office, as usual, doing whatever it was she did back there. I guessed she was writing a screenplay about her life as a stevedore on a Mexican dock, though I was pretty sure none of that happened.

“Hey guys,” I called out to Chuck and Mikey as I walked past.

“Yo,” Mikey said.

“Sup girl,” Chuck called out.

I laughed and kept walking. I poked my head into the smallest theater and saw Noah sitting in the second row, his legs kicked up on the seat in front of him, staring at his phone.

I walked down the row and sat in the seat behind him.

“Hello, stranger,” I said, dropping my voice low.

“Prostitution is frowned upon in here, sir,” Noah said, not looking up from his phone.

“Ew, are you kidding me?”

He looked back at me, grinning. “I said frowned upon, dots. I’ll look the other way for your sake.”

“Is that all you ever think about?”

He shrugged. “With you, it is.”

I blushed under his intense look. I couldn’t tell if he was still joking around, or if he was admitting something to me. Maybe it was a little of both.

“Okay, creep,” I muttered, looking away.

“That, right there. That’s why I can’t stop picturing those polka dots.”

I glared at him, suddenly annoyed. “Want me to do tickets again?” I said.

He shrugged, turning back to his phone. “Sure thing. Would you mind sweeping up theater two?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” I stood up and stalked off. I was getting pretty sick of him bringing up that embarrassing moment. Sometimes I thought he did it just to be a dick, since he knew it pissed me off. Maybe he really did only think about fucking me, but he could at least stop bringing up the embarrassing time I practically tackled him.

As I grabbed a broom and dustpan, I wondered what I felt more: flattered that he wanted me, or annoyed that could be the only thing he wanted from me. Truthfully, I couldn’t tell which was better. I hadn’t stopped thinking about his hands on my body, pressing me up against that brick wall.

I started sweeping up, distracted by the fact that Noah was only a few feet away. I imagined him quietly pushing open the theater door, sneaking up behind me, and fucking me right there in the fourth row. It was absurd, and I knew it. I was spending my time daydreaming like a little schoolgirl, just because I got a taste of his body. It was enough to drive me crazy, though. I realized how badly I wanted to see all of him, to see his thick cock, to run my fingers along its length, to taste his skin.

And yet there was his cool distance a few minutes ago. He was constantly vacillating between intense interest and vague dismissal, and I’d only known him for a few weeks. He was a mystery compounded by our parents’ drama, a mystery wrapped in an enigma. I grinned at my own stupid cliché.

The night began to speed by. Noah never came into the theater, never tried to grab me by the hips, and I hardly saw him for the first hour. In fact, when people began to filter in for the first showing, he was nowhere to be seen. He should have been running around supporting everyone, like he had every other night, but he was noticeably absent. That meant I had to do two jobs at once, both taking tickets and supporting the concession stand. I was practically running around like crazy, taking care of everything that I could. Chuck and Mikey helped out, and actually came out from behind the concession stand to make sure the projectors ran smooth. That was usually Noah’s job, but fortunately he had shown Mikey how to do it.

As the theaters filled and the shows began, I went back out into the lobby. As far as I could tell, Miss H hadn’t noticed Noah’s absence. Chuck and Mikey went back behind the stand, screwing around like usual. As I was sweeping up the entrance, I saw him come trotting down the stairs. I glanced over at the Wonder Twins, but they hadn’t noticed him yet. In fact, as far as I could tell, I was the only person who noticed Noah’s reemergence, and I was the only one who seemed to care. Annoyed, I threw him a pissed-off look, but he only grinned and shrugged at me, apparently not bothered that I caught him cheating out on the job.

Where had he gone? He had skipped out during the worst possible time, and put everyone else in a bad position. He had been great every other night, attentive and helpful, so it seemed unlike him to make everyone else’s life harder. I had to admit that it was a new low for him, leaving me to do all the work while he probably took a nap in an empty room. I wasn’t exactly surprised, but I was definitely frustrated. Truthfully, I had been waiting for him to screw up. He had been too nice and too good, and not at all like what everyone said he was. I watched as he ducked into the supply closet, the door shutting behind him.

Frustrated, I walked over to Chuck and Mikey. They were setting up for the next group, popping popcorn and restocking the candy.

“Hey, Chuck,” I called out. He looked over at me and smiled.

“What’s up?”

“Did you see Noah came back?”

He shrugged. “Nah, didn’t see anything. But I’m not surprised.”

Curious, I walked a little bit closer. “Why’s that?”

“He does that sometimes, disappears for like an hour. But he always comes back.”

“Any clue where he goes?”

“Nope, and I don’t really care. The guy’s dad basically owns this place, so I figure he can do whatever he wants.”

That pissed me off even more. It was definitely true that Noah had a bunch of leeway because of his dad, but everyone was basically willing to let him do whatever he wanted? It didn’t seem fair. Not only was he a jerk, but he was a spoiled jerk.

“Okay, thanks Chuck,” I said, wheels spinning in my head.

He gave me a look. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not going to do anything,” I said, acting innocent.

He sighed and shook his head. “Look, don’t bother. He’s not a bad guy. He gets shit done when he needs to. I actually think he gets a bad rep for no good reason.”