Page 80 of The Second Chance Cinema
“Do you think …” he started.
“Should we …”
They hadn’t discussed if they should go back to the cinemayet. Now they were tiptoeing toward the same idea. Ellie checked the time. It was a Saturday night. It was also, conveniently, 11:03. They had both assumed they wouldn’t watch the final movie after their big fight, but they’d never firmly decided.
“We could still make it,” Drake told her. “We could be a little early, even.”
“With time to finally try the popcorn.”
Minutes later, Ellie and Drake were in the car headed downtown. Staying cocooned in the warmth of their festive home would’ve been easier, but they understood why they couldn’t. The cinema had made them more honest, hadn’t it? And it was only fair for them to go into their wedding knowing the full truth about everything.
Ellie chewed on her lip. Drake pretended to pay attention to the radio. But they were both lost in their own worry.
Because they each had a final secret, and they suspected it would play that night.
36
Ellie and Drake returned to the alley, walked back through the curtain of fog, and stepped under the glowing marquee for the last time.The Story of You, it read, as it had every other visit. Inside the lobby, though, Drake broke their usual routine. “Let’s see what those hot dogs are dancing about,” he suggested as he traded his last remaining cash for a large bag of the popcorn. The ticket boy dumped some of the dried-out kernels into a red paper bag without acknowledging them and handed it over.
“It’s inedible,” Ellie decided after the first bite.
Drake scooped a handful into his mouth. “It’s fine,” he sputtered with a cough. “If you can get past the tar aftertaste.”
They took their time as they moved up the stairs to the balcony, each admiring the cinema with new eyes. Their lives had been gutted since they found this place. Soon, the past would be back on the timeline where it belonged. Life would be normal again. Coming here had been a constant source of juxtaposition: of laughter and hurt, nostalgia and guilt. And they knew the last memory would be no different. Excitement and dread walked hand in hand beside them as they prepared to enter the movie.
Ellie and Drake both sensed what would play. Seeing their own meet cute felt inevitable; it was where the story had always been heading. How thrilling would it be to finally relive the sparks of that first conversation at Finn’s? But with that thrill came something they had left unsaid about that night. There wasa hidden layer to their beginning that they hadn’t discussed yet, and it made them stall halfway up the stairs to buy more time before facing it.
Drake dove his hand back in the popcorn. He was eager to stress eat and disappointed by the results. And, as he had decided back at the house, they both needed to know what the cinema pieced together for this one, final movie. They had been more honest with each other in these last weeks than their entire time together. He didn’t want to keep any more secrets.
“Whatever happens in there, we’ll be fine,” Drake said, searching Ellie’s face for reassurance. “Right?”
Ellie hesitated. She had never told Drake what happened right after they met at Finn’s. She’d convinced herself that the choices she made before—and immediately after—their meeting would tarnish an otherwise perfect encounter. “You know, we could still turn around,” she said. As soon as the words were out, she knew they couldn’t do that. Ellie wasn’t pushing the past away anymore. “But let’s not. We’ve got this.”
“I think you should know …” Drake started pulling her back up the stairs again. “I have an idea of what this last movie is going to be—”
“Same,” Ellie admitted.
“And it might not paint me in the best light. We’re not talking a villainous light here, but … Not the best light.”
“Same,” Ellie repeated. “For me, fluorescent light, at best.” Their baby steps had led them to the balcony-level door of the auditorium. The only thing left to do was to go through it. Ellie straightened her posture and pushed the sculpted handle open, relieved to find the comforting presence of Drake right behind her.
“New rule,” he whispered as they sank into their seats. “Whatever happens in the cinema,doesn’tstay in the cinema.”
“Deal,” Ellie agreed softly.
Then the lights lowered, the hot dogs danced, and their fingers laced together as the title surfaced on the screen.
TICKET TEN:MEET-CUTE
Ellie remembered this part well; there was a man in her bed. She’d met him a few nights earlier at her book reading, where he’d bought three copies ofThe Compendium of Forgotten Thingsfor her to sign. He wanted a congratulations message to his aunt in the first copy, a dedication to a girl who was “strictly a friend, but don’t write that,” in the second, and “your phone number,” in the third. Ellie gave in to all three requests. As a result, he was in her room, leaning against the headboard with a cup of coffee and an air of rebellion.
“Big plans today?” He stretched his arms overhead with an exaggerated yawn.
“I’ve got to get writing.” Ellie hoped he would pick up the hint. He’d made the coffee himself, so it wasn’t likely. Her escape routine was easier at another person’s house. Instead, she hopped out of bed, tossed on her jeans, and slid the balcony door open. A few resident birds battled it out for fallen cereal on the patio.
“Swing by the bar where I work tonight?” Hints, begone. He had followed her outside.
“I don’t know if I can,” Ellie told him. She pulled away from his kiss on her neck. The act was too intimate for daylight and balcony neighbors. He didn’t seem to notice that she was willing him to leave. Instead, the man sat at the tiled table she’d picked up during an event called Vintage Crawl a few weeks earlier. People like Ellie gathered and roamed through a series of bars and thrift stores. By the end of the night, she’d inherited this table, a 1960s rain lamp, and a raging hangover.
