The Day Before Forever (19 page)

“I don't . . .”

Henley pointed to yet another one of our photos. The shoulder.

Henley spread out the photos along the counter. The same shoulder wearing black was in every single shot.

“It doesn't make sense,” I said. “We took these photos at different places.”

“Exactly . . . Were we being followed?”

There wasn't much to go on. The shoulder was blurry in many of the photos. Even in the ones where it was clearer, it was hard to tell if it was male or female. All we knew was that the person was wearing black and he or she stood to our left—which was incidentally the same side I was usually on in these photos. But that had to be a coincidence . . . right?

“It's as if whoever this is ducked out of the frame at the last second,” Henley said.

I looked behind us now. I thought I saw something dark slip into one of the drugstore aisles.

I felt paranoid, but I walked along the aisles. Peering down each of them, I couldn't see a single person.

“Let's go,” Henley said.

As we walked out the door, Henley threw the photos in the trash can. I had thought that maybe Henley would want to keep them for evidence of some sort, but I supposed he didn't want to hang on to something so ominous. Any sentimental feelings he'd had toward our first photos together were probably gone thanks to this mysterious stranger.

“Yeah, let's get out of here.”

ELEVEN

“GRAB YOUR THINGS,”
I said later that day.

Henley looked surprised that I sounded so urgent. “So now you're ordering me about?” he smirked.

“I don't know what you're talking about . . . I've always ordered you around.”

“Now that's true.” Nevertheless, Henley grabbed the backpack and stood. “This is the only stuff we have.”

“Come on,” I said, as I led him out the door and through the lobby.

“Where are we going?” he asked, when I walked him out of the hostel.

“Anywhere normal.” I continued walking.

He looked confused, but he walked quickly to catch up to me.

“I figured we needed a do-over date,” I said. “I mean . . . our last one ended on a sour note.”

“With you so mad that you were turning red?”

“Excuse me, but I think you're confusing me with yourself.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“So, a do-over date?” Henley looked at me intently. “What does one do on a do-over date?”

“What any normal person does on a normal date.”

“And what's that?”

“I'm not quite sure yet, as I've never been on a
normal
date. Where nothing went wrong . . .”

Henley grinned and held out his hand. I took it, and it was nice to feel his warmth.

“I figured we needed a normal date,” I said. “And by normal I mean that we're not allowed to talk about any of that immortal or time-traveling stuff.”

“Not
allowed
? Like a strict rule?”

“A strict ban on anything not normal,” I said.

“So what do normal people do?”

“Well, I was thinking . . . Normal people take people they like to go see a movie.”

Henley looked taken aback. “A film? You're taking me to see a film?”

It had never occurred to me that he might not like movies. “D-do you not like movies?”

“No, it's not that. It's just . . . Don't films cost money?”

I grinned. “I thought that would come up. It's a free screening. Some sort of independent movie. I saw a poster for it yesterday.”

“So you've been planning this since yesterday?”

“I had time, since I wasn't speaking to you,” I said. “Now
take that map out from the backpack and let's try to find it.”

Henley did as I asked and held it so I could orient myself.

“I know we're walking in the right direction since the district the screening is in is north of here . . .” I pointed out a specific intersection on the map. “That's where it is.”

“Looks easy enough to get to,” Henley said.

We continued walking north as the sun warmed our backs.

Once we were close and in the neighborhood, we started to ask passersby the way, since without street signs on the smaller roads, our map was useless.

“I can't believe they're not all labeled. Even New York streets are neatly organized and labeled,” I said.

“Oh, stop your muttering. We're close—” Henley ran off across the street in the middle of his sentence. “Excuse me, could you please tell me . . . ,” I could hear him saying.

A girl in a long dress and combat boots pointed behind her.

“Thank you!” Henley called back as he crossed the street toward me. “We're so close,” he said to me. “It's only one block that way. She even said we'll probably start to see some people heading to the same place as us.”

The girl was right. As we got closer, we saw people milling around. They were all a very specific type.

They were a younger crowd in their twenties—maybe early thirties at the oldest. The men wore their jet-black hair spiked up in the front. They wore plain white shirts or discolored shirts with slogans on them under their army-inspired jackets. The women were dressed similarly, in black jeans so ripped the top half above the knee looked completely separated from the bottom half of the pants, which were either artfully rolled to show
their ankles or tucked into heavy construction worker boots. The majority were stubbing out their cigarettes by the stone wall to go inside before the movie started.

“Shame we didn't get the dress code memo,” Henley said.

I giggled. I couldn't imagine him wearing distressed black denim.

The people were all going in through one green metal door.

“I guess that's where we're headed,” I said.

I thought we would get looks as we entered the building since we looked nothing like the others, but surprisingly, no one seemed to care.

Upon entering the building, my senses were assaulted. There was an overpowering smell in the air. I couldn't tell what it was—it smelled a little like a mixture of skunk and smoke.

Inside, the building was so dark that I couldn't see Henley standing shoulder to shoulder right next to me. There were no light sources, as far as I could see. I had to grab onto Henley as we moved farther in, while my eyes adjusted.

“What is this place?” Henley muttered by my ear.

I could tell his eyes had adjusted to the dark, because he was already looking around.

We were in what seemed like a large multipurpose room of some sort, but for such a large space that could hold so many people, it had a low ceiling that Henley could almost touch if he put his arm up. I didn't know what the room was used for normally, but there was a permanent-looking wooden bar on the left. It seemed like a popular spot right now, as people were jockeying for the one bartender's attention. I guess they were getting their drinks before they settled down for the movie.

Aside from the bar, there wasn't any other permanent furniture. Apart from the area by the bar, the people were either standing in the back or sprawled out on blankets and large pillows on the floor. The whole room was probably a fire code violation. People had to step over each other to get to their spaces or the bar. Couples rushed to claim one of the beanbags, arbitrarily thrown around the room, for themselves.

“Where should we sit?” Henley said. The only reason I could hear him above the roar of everyone else's conversations was that he had leaned over to speak by my ear.

We scanned the room for an empty patch of floor.

Finally, I pointed to an unclaimed blanket by the wall. It was so dark that I couldn't even tell what color it was.

We had to climb over people already seated to dart over to our spot before someone else took it.

I sat down quickly and was amazed by the plushness of the blanket. I could still feel the wooden floor beneath me, but the blanket had a layer of short fur to provide a warm barrier between our bodies and the cold ground.

“Wait right here,” Henley said before disappearing into the crowd of people standing behind us.

The air seemed cleaner by the floor where I was sitting. Standing, it felt like your head was in a fog from what the people were smoking.

Something tapped me, and I looked up.

It was Henley and he was holding a large pillow out to me, with another by his side.

“Where'd you find these?” I took the pillow.

Henley put the other down on the blanket to sit on.

“I just asked people,” he said.

I wedged my pillow between his knee and my back.

“Making a backrest?” Henley laughed.

“Exactly what I'm doing.” I lay down to see if it was any good.

The pillow was softer than it looked, and it was the perfect spot.

“So when's this supposed to start?” Henley had to call down to me as my head was practically in his lap.

“It was supposed to start maybe ten minutes ago . . .”

“Then I still have time to get one more thing.” Henley got up again.

That man never sat still.

Alone again, I focused on the people around me. Sure, there were people here with a group of friends, but it looked like the majority of people were couples.

I leaned my head against the wall next to me.

On my other side was a girl with long bangs into her eyes. She was peering through them at a man in a leather jacket next to her. The way she kept looking at him made me think they had only just started going out—maybe one month in? I knew the look she had when she faced his way. She was trying to limit her staring only to when his back was turned. She looked so happy. She
felt
happy. She
felt
like the universe was all of a sudden going her way.

The couple behind us were already making out . . . it was more like sucking face, though. I was glad the sounds of people talking and the low background music managed to block out whatever sounds they were making.

Both couples were sitting only an arm's distance away. If I wanted to, I could reach out and touch them. That was how close everyone was to one another. But the noise served as a barrier. I couldn't hear their conversations, and they couldn't hear mine. That barrier made us feel miles apart.

“Here we go . . .” Henley was back.

He gingerly stepped around me, taking care not to step on anyone's legs or fingers.

He squatted down next to me.

“I bought you a drink,” he said.

He passed me a glass bottle. I squinted at the label, but the writing was too small to read in the dark.

“Thanks.” I took a sip. And struggled to force it down. “What did you buy me?”

“Beer.”

“Beer?”

“Yeah, I didn't know what was good here, so they just handed me what they said was the most popular dark beer.”

“Did they ask to see your ID?” I asked.

Henley looked like he was laughing, but I couldn't tell in the loud room. “My dear, do you
think
we're in a place where they would ask to see identification?”

He had a point.

I took another sip of my beer to see if it would taste any better the second time around. Surprisingly it did. It went down easier this time.

Henley sat down, balancing a cup in his right hand.

“What did you get yourself?” I asked.

I peered into his cup. The liquid inside looked clear, but it
also could have been the lack of lighting.

“Gin and tonic,” he said. “I was actually surprised they had gin. But I suppose shouldn't have been.” He gestured around us. “All these fine film devotees probably know their drinks.”

I couldn't figure out if Henley was genuinely calling them film devotees or if he was using sarcasm. But they did certainly know their drinks, if by “knowing their drinks” Henley meant they had a lot of practice chugging them down.

“I think these film devotees of yours might be more interested in each other than the actual movie,” I said.

“You don't know that,” Henley said. “The film hasn't even started.”

“Hey, mate!” The man next to us leaned over his girl to tap Henley on the shoulder.

He said something when we turned, but it was lost over the music.

Henley cupped his hand against his ear.

“You wanna spliff, mate?” the man yelled over at us.

“Spliff?” Henley said.

I could hear him, but I didn't think the man could.

“No thanks,” I called over. “We already did the spliff back home before we came.”

What was spliff? And how on earth was one supposed to take part in it?

“Nice . . . ,” the man drawled.

I guessed I had given an appropriate answer.

“If you ever need to buy some, my man Ricardo in the back got you covered.”

Henley nodded his thanks.

The man seemed to be looking out for us. His girl must be proud.

I smiled at her.

Something screeched on the speaker system. The music stopped.

“Okay . . .” A male voice sounded through the speakers. I could barely hear him over the people talking. “Okay, settle down. I'll wait.” As soon as he said that, the voices started to hush. “Glad to hear that line still works. Now contrary to some of our beliefs, we're not here just for the cheap liquor. That's a valid reason to come, but we're mainly here to watch my boy Danny's new film!”

At that there was some whooping and hollering.

“So where's my boy Danny?” the announcer said.

I turned to scan the crowd behind us.

A man with a neatly trimmed goatee by the corner of the bar raised his hand slowly. I guessed that was Danny.

“Give it up for Danny!”

People yelled and stomped their feet. Henley and I simply clapped.

“Start the damn movie already!” Danny yelled.

There was laughter and someone finally pressed play.

A projector turned on and reflected on the far wall in front of us. “A Fine Experiment,” it flashed up. Flute music started playing.

I didn't even remotely know what the movie was about. I wondered if I had made the wrong choice in bringing Henley here. I tried to take a peek at him without him noticing.

Henley's jaw was slightly slack. I saw the movie title reflected
back in his eyes. He was already engrossed and the movie hadn't even properly started.