Page 70 of Fruit
“I…okay, maybe a little.”
“Maybe a lot.”
“I just—we’ll do something soon. I promise.”
“Mmhmm,” he says sceptically.
“I promise!”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
**********
“Oh my God. That was so bad,” I whisper as Sebastián and I leave the small theatre.
“I’ve got a headache.”
“Was her voice meant to sound that bad? Like, I get it was trying to represent, like…insanity?”
“It was out of tune.”
“And the crime?”
“A drug deal gone bad at the docks. Minus ten points for lack of originality.”
I laugh at Sebastián’s unusual snarkiness. We step outside, under the awning of the theatre. It’s raining, thick sheets of water going straight down. With a smirk, I pull out the umbrella he gave me from my purse. Being taller than me, he takes it and I loop my arm around his, leaning against him slightly as we walk slowly under the umbrella.
“I was literally rewriting the play as we watched it,” I go on.
“That must have been a nice distraction from the actual play.”
I snort. “Maybe we should stick to movies.”
“We’ll just watch them at home and never leave the house,” he says, and I don’t point out how he keeps referring to his house as home, as if I’m included in that picture.
“Well, the one we saw the other day was good, right?”
“Drive?”
“Yeah! How fucked up is it that I was totally turned-on by that elevator-scene kiss?”
“What turned you on, the kiss or the killing?”
“…Kind of both.”
Sebastián snorts. “I wouldn’t rank that high in movie kisses.”
“Youhave a movie kiss ranking?”
“Unnecessary stress on the word ‘you’,” he says flatly. I laugh.
“Okay. What ranks first, then? And if you sayThe Note—”
“The Notebook.”
“Ooh, my God!”
“What?”
