Page 33 of The Boy With The Sharp Teeth
Sanadidn’t wait for him to do anything else. Turning away from them, she halfmarched, half ran to the theater.
Mrs.Goldman had greeted her with a big smile and an open hug. At this time of theday, the theater was empty. Its art deco design unappreciated by any attendees,while its three theater rooms sat dark and empty. After catching her up withthe usual questions, older people wanted to hear about school and her plans forher future, Sana followed the older woman up the stairs behind the concessioncounter and up to the second floor that housed the office and the projectorrooms. Opening the door to the office, Mrs. Goldman completely missed Sana'sgiddy smile of anticipation at the cramped office. Nearly every inch of theonce sizable and windowless office was jam-packed with old movie memorabilia.Stacks and stacks of old posters, boxes of metal film rolls, filing cabinetsfilled with yellowing papers, and even a few boxes of concession candy.
"Ok,"Mrs. Goldman said, slapping her hands together, causing the beads of herbeautiful blue and silver caftan robe she wore over her black slacks toshimmer. "I will leave you here to organize while I go try to call Phyllisso we can get some final plans nailed down for the summer festival."
Nodding,Sana gave the woman an excited smile. She hoped she could be there for some ofthe movie selections they chose.
Asthe door closed with a soft click, Sana turned and surveyed the clutteredspace, her eyes falling on the stacks and stacks of paper sitting on the desk.Picking up a few of them, she leafed through and determined they were mostlyinvoices and receipts. Stepping around the large desk that took up most of theroom in the office, she sat down on the ancient wood and fabric office chairthat squeaked under her weight and got to work.
Shewas turned around in the chair with her back to the desk, thumbing through thecabinet drawer, trying to find an inch of available space for her newly organizedstack of invoices, when she heard the door open and close behind her. Turning,Sana had expected to see Mrs or maybe even Mr. Goldman standing in front of herdesk—not Zach.
Zach’seyes studied her with a piercing look. "Why do I get the feeling you'rerunning from me?"
Indignant,she pushed the filing cabinet closed and turned the chair around to face him."I'm not running from anyone. I was simply avoiding one of your manyaltercations with the sheriff," she said, thinking of Samons' angry expression.It reminded her of that painful day last summer when Samons had kept Zach fromcoming to see her that last day.
Aquiet fury glinted in his eyes as he looked away from her. "One day, I'mgoing to kill that racist piece of shit."
Herstomach tightened at his words. "Has he…has he been harassing you again?”she asked tentatively.
Zachscoffed with a mean tilt to his lips. "When does the fat fucker not?"
"Haveyou and your uncle tried telling the mayor?" she offered.
"Youreally think Fitzsimmons gives a shit?” Zach turned to her from where he hadbeen staring at the stack of decaying posters, giving her an incredulous look.“Hell, him, the sheriff, the deputies, and a dozen or more old-timer assholesgo and sit around Fitzsimmons house and drink and talk shit about all theKatzie people between here and Antor Falls.” Zach shook his head with a ruefullook. “Talking to him would amount to the same as asking Sheriff Samons toplease not go out of his way and be a bigoted asshole for a day—not going tohappen."
Sanafelt a little foolish for suggesting it. She never had to deal with racismbefore. Even at her private school, there was a good mix of races amongst themajority. Her class alone had just as many Indian and black students as it didwhite students. Maybe that was due to the progressiveness of Seattle versus thesmall town such as this, or maybe it was simply the means of her parents thatkept her in private schools and gated communities, sheltering her from theharsh realities of the outside world. "I'm sorry,” she began. “I wish Iknew what to say or do to help."
Thehard expression on his face softened. Coming around her desk, he stood tall infront of her, and reached for her face, and cupped her cheeks. "Don'tworry about it. I don’t want to talk about that shit anyway. I would muchrather talk about us," he said, his thumbs strumming the soft curve of hercheeks.
Shegave him a pointed scowl as she pulled away from his hold. Inwardly sheregretted it, instantly missing the feeling of his rough hands against herskin. "What is there to talk about?” she tossed back loftily, hoping shelooked as confident as she tried to sound. “I haven't heard from you in ayear," she said, wincing at the sour note that slipped through her tone."I couldn’t even find you on social media,” she added as she blindlygrabbed for a stack of receipts to her right, desperately needing to busyherself. Anything to stop herself from talking any further.
Zachlaughed, and Sana felt the embarrassment being driven further and further intoher chest like a stake.
Hishands came down on the arms of her chair. Turning her chair back around, hebent down and pressed his lips to her forehead. Sana’s breath caught in herthroat as she looked up at him.
"It'sa family rule," he explained, his right hand cupping her chin so that histhumb could brush over her lips. "I can even guarantee you that you foundno Waatese whatsoever on any of the platforms, right?"
Hermind spun with that. Now that she thought about it, he was right. She didn'tfind anyone with the last name Waatese which was more than surprisingconsidering how many there were. She had been too focused on trying to findZach at the time she didn't even give the lack of finding anyone with the lastname a second thought. A little stunned, she just sat there blankly as the fullimplications hit her. What an odd family rule, she thought, and even odder thatit was enforced apparently very well.
"Butwhy-" she began to ask.
Zachstiffened suddenly. Sana watched as his piercing golden eyes darted past her,focusing far off at nothing in particular as he stood perfectly still. Beforeshe could even ask, Zach stepped back with a soft curse under his breath andlooked around the room before his intense gaze settled on the large wooden deskshe was working on.
"Mrs.Goldman is coming," he explained as he rolled her chair back and crouchedto the ground in front of her.
Sanafrowned, very much confused as she looked to the still closed door and back tothe six-foot boy wedging himself under the desk. Sana was about to speak whenthe creak of the old floorboards outside the door shifted, and the door beganto open. Sana sat ramrod straight in her chair as Mrs. Goldman walked throughthe door holding a bottle of water with a smile.
"Heredarling, I brought you this," she handed Sana the cool plastic bottle."I know how warm it is up here."
"Yes,thank you," she replied stiffly. She could feel Zach's breath hit herknee. The warm air tickled along the edge of her thigh, and Sana cursed herselffor wearing the short skirt. Shutting her legs tightly together with a snap,Sana looked pointedly at Mrs. Goldman with a smile as she reached for the nextreceipt in her pile. Over and over again, like a chant, Sana prayed that Mrs.Goldman wouldn’t somehow notice Zach's presence in the room.
"Ican't thank you enough for helping out with all this old stuff. Just look atthis.” The woman gestured and sighed at a stack of precarious film rollsleaning at the corner of the desk. “I have been telling Harry for about twoyears to come up here and sort them all out, but will he listen? No! All hecurrently cares about is his precious digital projector."
Sananodded and prayed her smile wasn't as strained as it felt, though Mrs. Goldmandidn't seem to notice. Walking around the small, cluttered room, the olderwoman looked at the collection of hanging posters fondly as she chattered on.
"Ican’t stand the thing. I think nothing beats classic film. Just a betterquality, you know? Digital is just a nightmare! We have to wait for speciallicensing keys before each showing, everything must run exactly according totime, and it…”
Thefeeling of warm fingers gripping each of her calves nearly made Sana jump,completely taking her attention from the woman. Disregarding the strength shewas using to keep her knees pressed tightly together, the strong grip on herlegs pulled them apart, and Sana could feel Zach shift closer, seizing the openspace between her legs. Spread indecently far apart, her knees rested againstthe outside of his broad shoulders. Sana sat in a mixture of petrified fear andhorror as Zach's breath danced lightly along the soft skin of her inner thigh.
