He followed her instructions, but couldn't stop himself from stealing glances as he drove. All through dinner, he'd been astonished by her appearance. Even now, he couldn't get over how different she looked in a skirt. He'd seen her in shorts, he'd seen her in a bikini, but somehow the skirt transformed her, made her seem softer, more mysterious and exciting. The way it draped her thighs. The way it left her knees bare.
"Go right, up here at Ventura," she said.
Nick made the turn.
Except for giving directions, Julie remained silent. Her hands lay open and motionless on her legs. She seemed a little tense. Nick wished he weren't so nervous himself. Ever since their phone conversation last night, he'd been looking forward to this with a mixture of eagerness and dread.
Our first date.
What if something goes wrong? What if something doesn't go wrong?
The way she looked in her skirt was no help at all.
At least he didn't have to worry about taking her someplace after the movies. That was a relief. A disappointment. If only he'd known last night, he might've been saved the fevered tossing and turning in bed as his mind spun images of him and Julie parked on a dark road kissing, embracing, fumbling under clothes for hidden flesh. There would be none of that tonight after all.
Maybe it wouldn't have happened anyway.
At any rate, he should be able to relax and enjoy the evening more, knowing he had no choice but to take her straight home after the movies.
"There it is," Julie said. "If you make a left at the next light, there's a big parking lot behind the theater."
"Okay."
She looked at him strangely. "Are you all right?"
"What do you mean?"
"Is something the matter?"
"No, I'm fine. How about you?"
"I don't feel so hot, as a matter of fact."
He signaled, and made the turn. "What's wrong? Should we go back?"
"That wouldn't help."
"Are you sick?"
She didn't answer. Nick swung into the lot, pulled to a stop in a parking space, and frowned at Julie. "What's wrong?"
"I asked you first."
"I'm fine. Well, maybe a little nervous."
"About the curse?"
He shook his head. He had a tight feeling in his throat. "No. Just about. going out with you. I mean, this is our first time really being together, you know? It feels a little strange."
"Is that all that's bothering you?"
"I think so."
"Well." She unfastened her buckle and pushed the harness aside. "I'm a little nervous, too. But you know what'll make it all better?" Reaching out, she curled a hand behind his neck and drew him closer. They kissed. Her lips were parted and moist, brushing against his mouth, then pressing firmly. Her other hand rubbed his chest, moved lower, caressed his belly, dropped to his left thigh. She kneaded his leg, squeezed and stroked it as if unaware of the way her wrist sometimes pushed against his groin. Then the hand went away. The lips went away. She stared into his eyes. "Feel better?" she asked.
"Are you kidding?"
"Not so nervous anymore?"
"I feel great."
"Me, too. Let's see the movie."
Outside the car, he took Julie's hand. They walked together through the early evening sunlight. The kiss had worked, just as she'd said it would. It had ended the strangeness, made their closeness real again. Nick felt relaxed and fine. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand to buy the tickets. Though the films were R-rated, the girl in the booth didn't question their ages.
"Would you like popcorn?" Nick asked as they entered the air-conditioned lobby.
"Not right now. I'm stuffed."
"Me, too. Maybe at intermission."
Julie smiled strangely, as if she knew something he didn't. "Maybe," she said.
The theater wasn't crowded. They chose seats near the center with no one to block their view. When the lights darkened, Julie leaned closer to Nick. She smiled, and nudged his elbow off the armrest. "Pushy," he whispered.
"That's me."
He stared at the screen. An ad for the Los Angeles Times was showing. His arm, pressed by Julie's shoulder, hung down across his leg. It felt awkward and useless. His nervousness came back. He should put the arm around Julie.
Come on, what're you waiting for?
He felt quivery and dry-mouthed.
The title of the feature film, Getting It, appeared over a scene of teenaged girls playing basketball in a school gymnasium. As the credits finished, the teacher blasted her whistle and the girls ran for the locker room.
Come on, arm! Now!
He couldn't force himself to lift it.
On the screen, the girls were trotting into the locker room, their shouts and giggles echoing.
"You oughta go for this," Julie whispered.
Her voice took away the worry. He put his arm across her shoulders. Amazing how easy it was. He let out a trembling breath as she snuggled against him. Why had he even hesitated? Well, it didn't matter now. He caressed her shoulder, making the fabric slide over the smoothness of her skin, the narrow band of her bra strap.
Some of the girls were showering now. The camera gave glimpses of their nudity. Then three boys rushed into the shower room, whooping and hollering, wearing only jockstraps. While most of the girls screamed, a slim attractive blonde laughed and attacked. She tackled a chubby guy. His friends fled. Other girls joined in. By the time he made his escape, the main girl was waving his jockstrap like a flag.
The scene changed. She paraded into a classroom wearing the jock on her head. Julie gasped, "Oh, no!" and the audience roared. The matronly teacher looked aghast. The girl walked up to the chubby boy's desk, plucked the jock from her head, and pulled it down over his face.
The boy's name was Ralph. The girl was Cindy. She was captain of the cheerleading squad, the most popular girl in school, and she wanted nothing to do with Ralph. Ralph wanted "in her pants."
As the movie went on, following his antics, Nick continued to caress Julie's shoulder and upper arm. Her blouse was getting damp from his hand. His arm was getting numb. Finally, he lowered it. He rested his hand on his leg. Julie reached down, took hold of it, and squeezed it.
Ralph, in the dark outside Cindy's house, serenaded her, playing "Lady of Spain" on a sousaphone. She went to her bedroom window and mooned him.
With his free hand, Nick stroked Julie's forearm, barely touching it, feeling the soft light brush of its hair, the sleek skin.
Though he and Julie laughed at some of the film's raunchy antics, he began to get annoyed. The movie showed sex as a crude joke, not as something beautiful and strange, the way it should be, the way he wanted it to be with Julie. The kids were "copping feels," trying to "get it on," to "lay pipe," to "fuck their brains out." There was no tenderness, no caring, no making love. Nick began to wish they'd chosen a different movie. At least this one seemed to be nearing an end. The next feature, a spy thriller, should be a real improvement.
Julie lifted their hands over the armrest. She lowered them onto her leg. Nick felt the heat of it through the thin fabric of her skirt.
Though Cindy was doing a striptease for Ralph, the sight of her naked breasts and writhing body seemed not nearly so exciting to Nick as the feel of Julie's leg under his hand. If he inched their locked hands down a bit, he might get past the hem to her bare knee. While he tried to work up the nerve, Julie slid their hands to the very place he wanted. She loosened her grip. As his fingers closed gently over her leg, she stroked the back of his hand. His mouth was parched, his heart racing.
Cindy, done with the striptease, flopped naked onto the bed. Ralph had finally earned a "toss" with her by dumping a truckload of manure on her unfaithful boyfriend and his new girlfriend while the two were "scoring" in the backseat of his new convertible. Face flushed, eyes bulging, Ralph tossed off his clothes. "Come and get it!" Cindy called. With a whoop of delight, Ralph dived at her sprawled body. A freeze-frame caught him in midair. The words "The End" flashed across his rump.