"How many damn movie theaters are in this city?" I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead, glancing over at Noah as we walk down to a café shop.
Despite being a Floridian, where summers are usually incredibly brutal which I should've already been used to, I cannot help but feel like my insides are on fire under the current Honolulu afternoon sun. I'm sweating in all places I didn't think would be normal to secrete liquid in the human body. Yes, including my butt.
I swear, the devil escaped from hell and sat on the world today.
Let's just say there's a reason my favorite season is winter.
"Let me ask Siri," Noah pulls out his iPhone from his jean pockets and long presses on the home button, bringing the phone up to his mouth. "How many movie theaters are in Honolulu?" He says into the phone.
Immediately, various answers pop out from the internet and he reads them carefully. "It says here there's fifteen."
"Great. So how many have we checked?"
He deadpans. "Two."
"What?! That's like seventeen left!"
"I have a feeling you weren't so bright in math class."
I flip him off with my middle finger, weaving my way through the moving bodies on the streets to the café a little bit still farther away from us.
I'm currently starting to think my idea to find Cory in one of the movie theaters in the city was a bad one. But we've only been to two, and there's chances left he's in one of the other remaining thirteen.
Movie theaters are like Cory's second home. And if his dad wasn't so strict to want to send him to Military school, he'd have want to learn filmmaking. At least that's what he told me. He'd binge watch movies if he's trying to get his mind off something and just want to be alone. Like last year, I remember, when he got into an argument with his mom and left home for two days.
Mrs Simpson came knocking on my door to ask if he'd been staying at my place. I still don't know why she thought that, or why I'd keep a guy in my room under my mom's watch. Hours later, I found him alone at a movie theater where I was about to see 'Jumanji' with Mabel. He had been sitting there for two days, lost in his own thoughts and the actions from the actors on the screen in front of him.
Fast forward to three days ago when he got into a fight. He probably got tired of seeing our faces and needed some space. And by 'Our' I mean Noah, Alexa, and I. What's worse is that his number keeps going straight to voicemail when I try to call. Speaking of Alexa, I haven't been seeing her bitching around lately. She kind of got boring.
I lead the way into the café with waiters scurrying to deliver espressos and lattes and iced fruit drinks. We decided to give ourselves a little break from running around the city in search for Cory and get some air.
I glance up to the waiter who hustles to our table.
"Cappuccino?" Noah asks me.
"That would be perfect."
"Decaf or regular?" The waiter chirps.
"Real coffee," Noah tells him, surprising me by knowing just exactly what I wanted.
"So," I begin, leaning back on my chair. "I'm guessing you graduated high school the same time I did. What are your plans this year?"
Surprised, he leans back too, blows out a breath. "No one's ever asked me that."
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I asked that. It's none of my business." The waiter arrives back with our coffee.
"Civil engineering. University of California." I can hear the hidden contempt in his voice as he says it.
"You don't sound too excited about it." He stares down into his foamy coffee.
"It's just... I don't know..." Noah looks tad frustrated all of a sudden. "Forget it."
"No. I want to hear it," I say with all seriousness as he looks back up from his coffee.
"I also got basketball scholarship into Oregon state university."
"That's great! You love basketball."
"My parents say it's stupid," He laughs humorlessly. "They call what I love 'stupid'. Can you believe it?"
Risking my chances, I lay a hand over his across the table. "It's not stupid. I've seen you play, and you were pretty good."
He turns his hand over, grips mine, a cocky smile playing on his lips. "You should come to one of my games, watch me get all the fans."
I could imagine it. Long legs striding swiftly around the basketball court, winning scores, people chanting his name over and over again, fangirls loudly cheering him from their seats.
"I would love to see that," I say. "I'd wear your face on my shirt and scream at the top of my lungs from the crowd."
Noah draws his eyebrows together in amusement. "You'd do that for me?"
My heart skips a beat as I withdraw my hands from his. "I- I mean, I do that all the time for Simone. So it's no big deal." A nervous and high-pitched laugh escapes my mouth, chugging the rest of my coffee down my throat.
"Enough chit-chat. Let's go."
I'm on my feet and dashing out of the shop before he can reply. Noah steps in beside me as I fast walk to where the truck's been parked.
"Are you hiding something from me?" He asks.
"What makes you think that?" I don't stop walking fast. He keeps up with my pace.
"I don't know. I just feel something's not right."
"Everything's perfectly fine," the words come out from my mouth in a rush as he slams the truck door shut when I attempt to open it, pressing my back against the vehicle.
"You're not a very good liar."
Panic comes when he stands too close, a choke that snags the air from my throat. "What's your problem?" I manage to croak out.
"I don't have one. But you seem to have one. I've been noticing you're jumpy around me today. Used to be you were just annoying."
"Maybe you can't tell the difference."
"Yeah, I can." He shifts, boxing me in neatly between the vehicle and his body. "You know what I think, Allie?"
"I'm not interested in what you think."
"I'll tell you anyway." He gathers up my hair I'd left loose this morning. "You do smell of soap and sweat, now that I'm close enough to tell."
Noah keeps his eyes on mine, draws my head back a fraction more. "I can tell your heart's pounding. There's this little pulse right here in your throat." He uses his free hand to trace it as it skitters. "Jumping so hard it's a wonder it doesn't come right through the skin and bounce into my hand."
"Back off." I fight to suck in air. "I can hardly breathe."
"I'm having trouble with that myself. We'll breathe later."
"Noah." I warn.
"Fine. Fine," He shifts farther from me and throws the truck keys in my direction. I attempt to catch it but it lands on the floor. "You're driving this time."
I really need to get myself back in control before he finds out the reason I'm being nervous around him.
God help me.
The rest of the movie theaters we visit next aren't too crowded, so it isn't that hard to find Cory. Don't get me wrong, we still didn't find him and I'm starting to lose my patience, but it's only three more theaters left.
It's almost seven in the evening when I pull over the truck at a gas station to buy gas. Minutes later, I hit the road again, watching how the street lights flicker on one by one as I zoom down the highway. Pharrell Williams' Happy blasts through the radio when I turn it on and sing along to get my mind off the boy beside me, intently watching me drive.
But it doesn't work.
If anything, it makes me more self conscious. I'm I singing off-key? Do I currently sound like a dying whale? Do my lips look pale? Where is my lipstick?
"It's in your purse."
Oh, I said that last one aloud.
With a hand on the steering wheel, I rummage my purse for the lipstick, getting a grip of it and bringing it out. I uncap the head and apply them on my lips, smacking them together.
From the corner of my eyes, I see him reach out his arms and uses a thumb to swipe lightly at the skin a little below my bottom lip.
My head spins around to stare at him.
"It smudged." He holds up the thumb as evidence, my bright red lipstick showing on his finger.
I turn my gaze back to the road. Is he doing that on purpose? To get a reaction? Why is it suddenly so hot in here? And why is he still staring at me like that?!
In what seems to be like forever, we reach the last movie theater in the city. I pull over in front of the building and cut off the engine, sliding away from the driver's seat. We walk side by side into the building, the escalator taking us up to the film house.
I stop at the entrance.
"I'm scared. What if he's not here too?" I nibble lightly on my lower lip.
"There's only one way to find out."
"What?"
"The door, Allie. You open the door." He gestures to the tall black door that separates us from whatever or whoever is on the other side. I nod, take a steady breath and twist the knob.
I see the large projector screen first, a movie playing on it. Rows of chairs are empty, darkness spreads throughout the hall, the lights from the screen the only thing illuminating the whole place.
Squinting my eyes a little, I scan the place for any sign of him and I almost give up all hope when I'm faced with emptiness.
Until I see the movement of what looks like a head at the front seat.
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