Page 30 of First in Line

His reluctance amuses me. “Okay forPulp Fiction, I guess.”

“Great. Let me get the tickets.”

Although I try whenever we come here to pay for myself, Jackson never lets me. He argues that his responsibility as a boyfriend is to pay for dates, so I’m not allowed to spend a cent.

I negotiated that I get to pay for one date per month, but that means I can’t pay for anything the rest of the time. I don’t really mind. I think I even find it romantic. But that’s why I always make sure our dates are as cheap as possible.

Once he has our tickets, he returns to me and takes my hand in his. He gets us a big bucket of buttery popcorn to share, as always, and we head to room three. The movie starts in less than five minutes, and only two other people are seated in the lower half.

As we do every time, Jax and I climb all the way up to the last row, right under the window where the projector light comes out. This allows us to whisper without nasty looks from the others, and we also get to make out with no one noticing or judging us.

Jax lifts the armrest between us, tucking it between our backrests, and I sit right against him. This is another reason I like coming here. The seats in the other theater don’t have this feature.

“Are you worried about your race next week?” I ask once we’re settled.

“A little, yes.”

“You’re going to do great, Jax. I know it.”

For the past month, we’ve done our best to scrape together the eight-hundred-dollar entry fee for a big race in Salt Lake City. Jackson has an aunt who lives there, so he’ll have a place to stay, but my mom refused to allow me to go with him. She argued that she’s already giving us a lot of freedom, but spending a few nights with him in another state is too much.

I’m a little mad at her for it, so we’re not really on speaking terms right now. That’s why I asked Jax if we could go watch a movie, since I really needed to get out of the trailer.

“I wish you could come with me,” Jax says with disappointment.

“I know, me too.”

“You’re, like, my lucky charm.”

Touched by his sentimental admission, I decide that while he can’t have me, he can at least have something to make up for it.I reach around my neck to unclasp the gold necklace with the heart locket I always wear. I look at it for a brief moment, the most precious thing I own. My grandmother gave it to me before moving out of state, and I still remember how mad my mom was that I was the one who got it. Given her reaction, I’m pretty sure it’s actual gold.

“There. This can be your lucky charm when I’m not around,” I tell Jackson, handing him the chain and locket.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“You’ll give it back to me when you return.”

“Alright.” He takes the offering, looks at it for a second, and puts it on his own neck. It’s a little silly to see him with girl jewelry, but he quickly tucks it into his hoodie.

The movie starts, and we watch it while munching on our popcorn. It’s better than I imagined—the movie—but when Jax leans in to kiss me on the lips, I gladly let him distract me.

I think I’ve gotten pretty good at making out with him. We do it all the time, and if it wasn’t as great for him as it is for me, he wouldn’t want to do it that much, right? I love the way it feels when our tongues come together like this. My entire body tingles from it. I know what it means, and I know what’s happening, but I haven’t felt ready for more than what we’ve been doing so far. And Jackson has been respecting that, never pushing for more.

Well, I mean, he touches my boobs now, but I don’t mind at all. I really like it, actually. It sends even more tingles all over.

We’re practically wrapped in one another, kissing with tongue as his hand cups my breast, and I have absolutely no idea what’s going on with the movie anymore. But I don’t care. Maybe I’ll come back with a few friends and watch it for real. This is much more important than whatever’s happening on the screen.

At some point, though, it becomes too much and not enough. “Jax,” I whimper in our kiss.

“Yes, princess?”

“I think maybe I—I’m ready for third base,” I confess.

He freezes, still holding me close. “Below the belt stuff?” he asks, making sure.

I nod, hoping he’ll take it slow even though I just gave him the green light.

“Are you sure?” he insists.