“Yeah, we’re not really into the whole student-teacher kink, but I’ll let you know if I need to borrow that pleated skirt you wore to the Delta House before this stuff started.”
“You’ll thank me later!” She resumes whisking weak peaks of coffee. I grab a muffin since Ma took up pandemic baking and leave to lock myself back in my bedroom closet for my meeting.
I singsong back. “Highly unlikely!”
My sister is a pest on a good day and how we managed to co-habitate this long remains a mystery. She enjoys rubbing her dating escapades in my face, but the truth was closer to the fact we handled the grief of losing our dad differently. I wanted a relationship like the one our parents had before everything went to shit. I built up a wall around my heart rejecting any guy who was interested by keeping myself insanely busy. Lavender needed the attention and equated sex to love. She couldn’t get enough of guys in her boy crazy mind and because she wasn’t the most responsible she got herself knocked up and while Hannah was a joy and a blessing, I do think she’s has regrets about the way it happened before she was ready to be a mother. We all had our issues to bear, but at least we had each other.
10
Van
“How is it possible, you have never seen a single Sharknado movie?” I angle the screen on my computer so Laurel gets my full attention. She’s wearing a cute graphic t-shirt that looks like it’s been lovingly washed several dozen times and must be super soft against her skin. I can see a peek of her bare stomach, peachy skin that looks kissable and taunts me. This girl is my ultimate distraction from the panicked office calls, Grant, and my parents. I don’t suggest skirting the stay-at-home rule to see her because I know she won’t go for it. It seems I’m an equal temptation for her. These dates, as odd as they are have been like old school courting. I’m not sure if I like it, or if the anticipation of the real thing is going to wear me down. Only time will tell, and right now…it’s fucking agony.
Laurel purses her lips and takes a sip from a soda can. I notice the Canada Dry black cherry seltzer and make a note to have some stocked in my fridge, for someday which has me groaning like a big baby.
She lifts her arms up to secure her hair in a ponytail and her breasts lift. I wonder if she’s wearing a bra and I shout at the internet troll in me to shut up and focus on her face. I’m a guy deep down horny and rude, but I can still be a gentleman. It’s no wonder girls swipe left, right or whatever to get rid of us.
“I’d like to consider myself lucky to have missed such an epic cinematic failure.” She’s serious and I know if I can’t get her on the shark train I might her lose her, but honestly, I’ve got nothing.
“It’s sharks and tornadoes.” Way to go, Van. In my mind I’m patting myself on the back and lamenting.
I hear her mumble, “With terrible CGI.”
She’s right, but I feel obligated to see this through to the end.
“What do you have against chainsaws?”
“For starters, we’re living through a pandemic, I’ll pass.” She smiles tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Yup. Total distraction except I’ve declared movie war.
“Not a fan of The Walking Dead either?” I quip watching for the slightest tick in her cheek.
“Donovan.” Her half grumble moan shoots a call sign to my dick making me grateful there’s a river, bridge, and borough between us.
“Oh come on. Give it a try, just for me.” I ramp up my charm, but she huffs dramatically with the grace of a Broadway star rolling her eyes. Her braid of hair teases me by slipping over her shoulder back and forth.
“Next you’re going to tell me you won’t sit through a Die Hard marathon.” I sit back in my bed, she’s propped on my lap which conveniently hides how much she’s turning me on during this sparring conversation. I watch her eyes light up when I mention one of my favorite movies, so maybe there is hope after all.
“Are you kidding?” She glares into the screen wide eyed and maybe a little insulted. “Who doesn’t love Bruce Willis.” Her answer is emphatic and I take note heaving a huge sigh of relief. We can add that to our cue of movies for a Netflix watch party. While the movie happens to be my favorite and my brother’s, I don’t even consider inviting him to our date nights. No third wheels because I can’t see or touch her in person and this is as intimate as we can get.
“Well, we’re twenty minutes in so what you want to do?” I pause the movie on my end so we can figure out where to go from here.
Laurel does a cute little chew on her bottom lip.
“I’d suggest make out, but obviously that’s off the table.” Her shoulders shrug and I nearly snort my own drink. I figured she would have suggested a romance movie or chatting, but damn she has me twisted. So much for her shy demeanor, these little spurts of sassy Laurel turn me on. I clench my fist imagining the moment I’ll finally get my hands on her.
Clearing my throat, I shift in my spot saying, “Yeah, off the table.”
Laurel seems to consider something before saying, “We might as well finish the movie, how many of them are there?” Oh this sweet girl has no idea the torture I could lay out for her over the next week.
I don’t take her offer seriously, but add, “Six.”
“Huh.” She snuggles into her pillows. She’s pretending to not hear me and that’s okay. I can think of things we can do virtually.
“So?” I don’t want our date to end and I find myself oddly anxious to lose this time with her. Me. The guy who has no issues asking a woman I don’t know in a bar on a date and all I want is this girl to watch a terrible movie with me.
“The movie isn’t going to watch itself and I’m not convinced Shepard survives.”
“Oh sweetheart, he not only survives, he triumphs.” I hit the resume button. We make our comments during the ridiculous fight scenes and marvel how Shepard survives the impossible. Laurel tells me it gives her hope for the future of mankind. I chuckle because only Laurel would find a way to make Sharknado a metaphor for never giving up.
I toy with the idea of sending her a gift card for eBooks, but I’m selfish thinking that will take her time away from me. So I dare her to watch the next five movies until she relents. We debate on binging the second one before Laurel yawns and I offer we table it for tomorrow.
We spend the next few days discussing the most illogical scenarios presented to us. I spend the wee hours of the morning hunting for a t-shirt saying, I survived shark week, and then I mail it to her.
I learn a lot about Laurel during our movie marathons. She prefers buttered popcorn over candy, but if candy is the only option then it must be Milk duds. We argue over the merits of dark versus light chocolate and I shut her up by saying until I can taste it on her skin I don’t have a preference. It seems any sexual comment is enough to set her off into Shyville and I’m shameless in teasing her stopping short of crossing the line into Creeperville.
I’m desperate to ask her what prompted her to sign up for the dating app that connected us. I want to hear her version of it and share mine. If this is fate or kismet or some cosmic happenstance, I want her to know that I’m in, I’m all in.