Crash Test Love Page 6

  “It’s Garrett.”

  “That’s what I said. What kind of hours are you looking for?”

  I remember that I’m holding a copy of Henry’s schedule, and I give it to him. “These are the hours I’m free.”

  He nods. “We have a basic training program: any newbie has to shadow one of our current employees for the first few weeks. That person will provide all the details about what’s expected of you, blah blah blah. It’s not a hard job. I think you’ll catch on quickly.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  He looks around; the only employees in sight are Henry, coughing popcorn girl, and a guy with a busted face who’s as skinny as a pencil (if a pencil could be a person). I must get paired with Henry. Otherwise, my entire plan is a failure.

  I decide on something simple yet effective: “Did you know that Henry and I go to school together?”

  Henry glares at me, but Roger doesn’t seem to notice. “Arlington,” he says, “mind showing Greta here the ropes?”

  “Garrett,” I repeat. That was too easy.

  “I don’t know,” Henry says cautiously, no doubt trying to figure out what my true intentions are.

  “What do you mean, ‘I don’t know’?”

  Henry shrugs.

  Roger points a stubby finger at him. “Just for that, you are going to be in charge of Grizabella over here, and you will make sure she doesn’t mess up. And if she does”—he shakes his finger—“it’s on you. Capisce?”

  “Yes, sir,” Henry says. His expression would make you think he’d been asked to clean someone’s puke off the floor. What is it about me that absolutely repels him?

  Roger pats me on the shoulder. He reminds me of my (slightly taller) Crazy Uncle Dom, who I actively avoid at family functions. “I’m gonna get your paperwork started, Garrie. You’re gonna love it here. Just love it.”

  Roger waddles away and I can’t help it—I start laughing. A smile begins to inch across Henry’s face, but he manages to stop it.

  “So I guess it’s just you and me, huh?” I ask.

  “I guess.”

  I think back to the first night I met Henry, and how vibrant he was—how full of life. I was attracted to him immediately. There was something about him, something … special. I shake my head, as if the memories will simply fall onto the floor so they can be swept away. Remember why you’re here, I tell myself. To win Henry over so you can get even with for him spreading rumors about you and to impress the J Squad. To prove to yourself that you don’t need an actual boyfriend to be happy. That’s it.

  We’re silent until Henry goes, “So why are you really here, Garrett? You don’t seem like the type of girl who wants to spend her free time in a dingy movie theater, and you certainly can’t be here for the money.” He tilts his head. “Are you here because of me? Is that it?”

  I feel my jaw unhinge. True, I am kinda stalking him, but that he assumes I am really bothers me.

  “You think really highly of yourself, don’t you? Let me tell you something, Henry. I’m here because I love independent cinema and figured it’d be a good way to spend some of my free time. I kind of hoped I would meet some other people who have a passion for movies too, but you’re clearly not one of those people, so why don’t we just save ourselves the trouble and I’ll go ask Roger if I can shadow someone else.”

  I’m here because I love independent cinema? Where did that come from? I’m surprised by how angry I was able to get, especially since everything I just told Henry—well, not everything, but most of it—is a lie. I am here because of him. Only he can’t know that. I have to play Hard To Get.

  Henry reacts as if I’d just slapped him. “I have a passion for movies.”

  “Whatever,” I say, although secretly I am thrilled. My little monologue definitely got to him.

  “Graciela,” a voice calls out. I turn to see Roger coming toward me with a fistful of papers and a black dress shirt with yellow accents on the shoulders. “Here you go.” He hands me the shirt and all the papers. “Bring these back filled out, okay? Meanwhile, I’ll e-mail you with next week’s schedule. Sound good?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Sound good to you, Arlington?” Roger asks.

  I glance at Henry, waiting for him to interject and say he doesn’t want to work with me. It’s now or never.

  Henry claps his hands together. “Yup, everything’s great. I’m just getting Garrett here up to speed.”

  “Don’t have too much fun,” Roger mutters, waddling back into his office. “Kids.”

  Once he’s gone, I look at Henry and wonder what he’s thinking. “Better go get changed,” he tells me. “We’ve got work to do.”

  “So what was it like?” Jessica asks me the next day in the cafeteria, sifting through the contents of her unnecessarily large purse and pulling out a pair of chopsticks.

  “Why do you have those?” I ask.

  “You never know when you might need them.”

  It’s funny how in high school (and, I suspect, in the real world), being friends with the right people really does matter. Already this morning, four random girls have complimented me on my jeans, and one guy in my AP Lit class told me I looked like Natalie Portman. (At which I blushed and said, “Oh, stop,” but really I was flattered.) That definitely would not have happened if I weren’t the newest (on a trial basis) member of the most popular clique at East Shore.

  “Tell us everything,” Jyllian insists, dipping her finger into a fat-free Jell-O pudding cup and licking it.

  There’s honestly not much to tell. Henry showed me around the movie theater and explained how to use the register, how to scan the tickets, and where to direct patrons if they needed to use a bathroom. Our conversation was … cordial. I could tell he was holding back, not being entirely himself. Henry is going to be tougher to crack than I originally anticipated, but I can do it. I can definitely do it.

  “Tell us about Henry,” Jessica says. Today she’s wearing her hair in a long braid down her back, which sounds milkmaid-ish, but it’s actually a good look for her. She takes a jar of peanut butter, a slice of bread, and a knife out of her bag and starts to make a sandwich—no one even flinches at how odd this is.

  What do I say? I don’t want to lie and say that Henry and I hit it off, but I also don’t want them to think I won’t be able to seal the deal.

  I go with: “He was really surprised to see me there.”

  “Of course he was,” London says. “What else?”

  I tell them I’ll be shadowing him for the next few weeks. They seem very, very pleased and genuinely “Interested” (India.Arie, 2002) in what I have to say.

  “You didn’t mention hearing about the rumor, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Good,” London says, sounding relieved. “That means you still have the upper hand.”

  I don’t get why it’s so important to keep my knowledge of the rumor a secret. My instinct is to be completely transparent and curse him out. “Wouldn’t he assume I know, though?”

  London shakes her head. “Not necessarily. Henry lives in his own world. He thinks he’s, like, some kind of artist or something. But he’s not fooling me.”

  I want to ask how well London and Henry know each other, but the subject seems kind of taboo; I decide to wait for the right moment to bring it up—whenever that’ll be.

  “Who wants to go for iced coffees after school?” Jessica asks, chewing on the end of her braid. “I’m parched. And then mani/pedis?”

  London and Jyllian both say, “Absolutely.” They look at me. “You’re coming, right?”

  I smile back, not because I want an iced coffee or to get my nails done, but because I have girlfriends inviting me to hang out with them. It feels almost too good to be true.

  HENRY

  INT.—HUNTINGTON CINEMAS BREAK ROOM, SUNDAY

  It’s been a full week since Garrett landed a job at my movie theater, and I’m still not used to having my private space invaded. Huntin
gton Cinemas has been my hideaway since I was sixteen. I feel violated. Annoyed.

  Also intrigued.

  One of the guys I work with, Tony Macharetti, pats me on the shoulder as I stuff my bag in my locker and put on my uniform.

  TONY

  Yo, Arlington. Good weekend so far?

  ME

  Sure. You?

  TONY

  My dog is sick. My ma fed him turkey meatballs and now he won’t stop barfing. It’s gross.

  Tony is a senior at West Shore, our rival high school. Not that I play into the rivalry.

  TONY

  Heard you crashed Lucia Bennett’s Sweet Sixteen last night.

  ME

  Oh?

  I did crash Lucia Bennett’s Sweet Sixteen, but I don’t know how Tony is aware of that. Lucia goes to school in Smithtown, which is at least an hour from us. Duke, Nigel, and I pretended to be visiting from England (every girl loves a British accent). We wore matching bow ties. It was awesome.

  TONY

  My friend Eric was there—he’s dating Lucia’s older sister—and he said this guy he’d never seen before was break-dancing like nobody’s business and got with this girl Michelle Kannin, who has a boyfriend in college.

  ME

  So you thought of me? I’m flattered.

  TONY

  I’ve seen you dance, man. You’re wild. Remember the party last year?

  Flashback to Huntington Cinemas’ Christmas party the year before, when I filled a flask with Smirnoff, and Tony and I got so drunk that we stuck our heads into the cases of popcorn and ate until Roger made us stop.

  TONY

  Dude, by the way … have you seen the new chick?

  Garrett.

  ME

  What about her?

  TONY

  She’s bangin’. Think she’d be into me?

  Something strange takes over me, a swirling in my stomach I’ve never felt before. I’m pretty sure it’s jealousy. I don’t want Tony to hit on Garrett. But why should I care? I don’t want to date her.

  TONY

  You’re supervising her, right? Put in a good word for me?

  ME

  Uh, okay. See ya later, Tony.

  I head into the lobby, where I spot Garrett, who has already taken her place behind the ticket machine. I sneak up behind her, trying not to draw any more attention to myself than necessary.

  GARRETT

  Hey.

  ME

  Oh. Hey.

  Smooth, Henry. She looks silly in her uniform, but not in a bad way. In a cute way. She smells good too, like the kind of tea my father keeps in the pantry and makes if he’s having trouble sleeping. Her hair is pulled back and her neck is exposed. I have the sudden urge to kiss her.

  GARRETT

  Did you, um, have a nice weekend?

  I debate whether to tell her about the party I crashed the night before. Not because she’ll be impressed (I already know she won’t be; I can tell these kinds of things) but because she seems to, I don’t know, actually like being around me, and that’s dangerous. For me and for her.

  ME

  Yeah. I had sex in the backseat of my car. It was hot.

  GARRETT

  (without flinching)

  Did you listen to music?

  ME

  What?

  GARRETT

  While you were doing it. Did you listen to any music?

  I’m so surprised by her question that I am, momentarily, speechless. I also lied to her; I didn’t have sex. All I could think about when I kissed Michelle was Garrett. It was … weird. I drove home from the party without Duke and Nigel (Duke brought his own car), watched Gangs of New York, and fell asleep with my clothes still on.

  ME

  Uh, no. Do you remember how to scan a ticket?

  GARRETT

  Yes. I’m not stupid.

  ME

  I never said you were.

  GARRETT

  You implied it.

  ME

  No, I didn’t.

  GARRETT

  All right. If you say so.

  We continue working. I steal glances at her; every time I look, she looks away. She applies Chap Stick, like, ten million times. If her goal is to draw attention to her lips, it’s definitely working.

  GARRETT

  Oh, my weekend? It was amazing—thank you so much for asking. What did I do? Well, I painted my nails and ate bonbons on Friday night. Saturday I went to a Jonas Brothers concert at Nassau Coliseum, and I don’t even like the Jonas Brothers but they called me up onstage and I performed an original song on the harpsichord, they just happened to have one, and people threw flowers at me and now I have my own record deal.

  I can’t help but laugh.

  ME

  Sounds eventful.

  GARRETT

  Yeah, it was. (Pause.) Are you really not going to ask me how my weekend was?

  ME

  Let’s start over. How was your weekend, Garrett?

  GARRETT

  Fine.

  ME

  You can’t just say fine. Not after whining about it.

  GARRETT

  (laughing)

  Okay, okay. Last night I went to the mall with the J Squ—with Jyllian, Jessica, and London.

  ME

  The mall? Wow … you guys are wild.

  GARRETT

  It was fun! Honestly.

  ME

  How fun can the mall possibly be? There’s nothing to do except walk around.

  GARRETT

  We can’t all party until three in the morning. Someone has to be a little boring to make up for your lifestyle, Mr. Arlington.

  I know she’s kidding, and that she’s flirting with me—at least, I think she’s flirting with me. As much as I don’t want to like it, I do.

  ME

  What can I say? I like to keep things exciting.

  We’re interrupted by a slew of moviegoers who want to buy tickets. Garrett and I establish a kind of rhythm; before I know it, our shift is almost up. The night is almost over.

  GARRETT

  You don’t have to keep ignoring me at school, you know. It’s not that hard to say hello.

  ME

  (slightly taken aback)

  It’s not you. I … I sort of keep to myself.

  GARRETT

  I’ve gathered. But you can still say hello. You act like we don’t even know each other.

  How can I make her understand that it’s better this way? That I’ll only wind up hurting her if we get close because I can tell she likes me and that’s what always happens to girls who like me. They get hurt.

  ME

  Yeah, you’re right.

  Garrett rests her hands on the cash register. I’m speechless at how beautiful she is. And how cool she is. I wonder if she’s heard the rumor about us hooking up. It’s all over school, or at least, it was; I don’t know if anyone’s talking about it anymore. I can’t imagine she wouldn’t have heard, but she hasn’t brought it up, and if I know anything about women, there’s no way she’d be able to bottle up all those emotions around me. Unless she’s insane …

  ME

  I figured you didn’t want to talk to me.

  GARRETT

  What?

  ME

  That’s why I’ve kept my distance. Well, one of the reasons.

  GARRETT

  Why would you think that?

  ME

  The J Squad aren’t exactly my biggest fans. Now that you’re friends with them … I’m sure they’ve filled your brain with all kinds of terrible stories.

  Garrett looks right at me.

  GARRETT

  We don’t really talk about you.

  ME

  Oh.

  I can’t tell whether I’m upset or relieved.

  ME (cont.)

  You know … I didn’t have sex with that girl. From the party last night. (Garrett is silent.) Not that you care or that it matters at all, but in the spirit of honesty I j
ust thought you should know.

  GARRETT

  Why did you lie?

  ME

  I guess … I wanted to impress you? Or scare you away? I honestly don’t know.

  GARRETT

  Well, you know, thanks for telling me the truth.

  ME

  Sure.

  GARRETT

  It’s good to know you’re not a total man-slut.

  Before I can respond, Roger approaches us and shoos us away like we’re flies.

  ROGER

  Time to go home! Close up the registers!

  He moves toward the concession stand, and I start counting out the money in my register.

  ME

  I guess, uh, I’ll see you at school tomorrow?

  Garrett smiles at me, an electric kind of smile that sets me off like a firecracker. It’s as though the entire room has gone dark and we’re the only people in it, and there’s a spotlight on us and we are totally illuminated.

  I see her so clearly.

  “Yup,” she says, and then: “I’m glad you had a nice weekend, Henry.”

  At home, my father is sitting at the kitchen table reading a book and eating a bowl of pasta.