Film
“James Dean,” he says as I pull my headphones out of my ears.
“What?”
“Rebel without a Cause. Playing later. Wanna go?
“Huh?” I shrug and take a sip of chilled water that’s been perspiring in the glass on the formica table.
Showing me a photo in a magazine, he laughs and says, “You know, it’s a film with James Dean.”
Smiling I think about the last time we talked about films. I asked him to join me on a rainy afternoon and he said he had something else to do but that was only an excuse because he simply didn’t want to go with me. Laughing to myself I recalled how he took Janice Ottomeyer the next day and casually slipped it into conversation a few days later to see if I’d care. I could’ve cared less who he’d taken if it wasn’t me.
“What are you laughing at?” he rubs my shoulder.
“Nothing.” I smile and try to avoid his gaze by picking up the magazine to lock eyes with the iconic screen god.
“You’re not looking at me, it must be something.” He whispers into my ear before poking his head around my shoulder and trying to feign jealously over James Dean. “What’s James telling you about me? Telling you the truth, that I’m making excuses about his lousy film to get you alone?”
Giggling, I put down the magazine and push his hands away, “Don’t be silly… It’s hardly a lousy film.”
“Well then what is it? Why don’t you tell me then?”
“It’s nothing.” I repeat myself and knock the glass of water that spills across the screen legends perfectly chiseled silhouetted face.
“Well, if you don’t want to go see the film with me… I could always take Janice again.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
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