It took me almost four months to work up the courage to talk to her. It wasn't that she was bitchy, or aloof or frigid. It was the opposite, actually. Claire was friendly to everyone, always ready with a smile or a happy word. I assumed, from previous experience being around girls as hot as her, that she was faking it. That every part of her hated dealing with people she thought of as inferior and she only smiled to keep us all from bothering her longer.
That wasn't it. She really was sweet, funny, caring. At eighteen, she was still in her last year of high school, and probably had high school boys falling left and right in her wake. Claire was just over five feet, dirty blonde, and petite. She she probably weighed one-fifteen soaking wet, and her ass was a tight, round bit of perfection that melded flawlessly into her round, shapely hips. Her breasts weren't huge, probably a B, but they looked bigger on her small frame. Her hair was long and straight, hanging to between her shoulder blades, and her lips were plump, her nose a small, cute button below hazel eyes that shone when she smiled.
I worked with Claire at a department store in the mall, the sort of place that every mall has and that every teenager in the world has been in at some point. The store sold band t-shirts, hats, gag gifts, lingerie and toys. I had worked there for the better part of two years, having gotten the job so that I could make a little extra money while I finished grad school. At twenty-seven, I was a little older than most of the grads in my department, and enough older than Claire that I was hesitant to talk to her. I didn't want to come off as a creeper.
To be honest, I didn't really want to have sex with her. That's not true, I suppose. Rather, I really didn't think Claire would ever put me in her pool of possible sexual partners, nor was she really a girl I would normally go for. Gorgeous she was, but she was also nine years younger than me, and still in high school.
For the most part, Claire and I just worked around each other. We weren't unfriendly, but we weren't close either. When I say it took me a while to work up to talking to her, I don't mean we never said anything at all to each other. She would ask a couple of questions here and there, I would answer. Always about work stuff, always brief. It wasn't unpleasant or uncomfortable, just utilitarian, I suppose.
During a few rushes, Claire and I worked the registers side-by-side, but given the nature of purchasing rushes, we didn't really have time to socialize. I'm sure it was an interesting sight to see us standing next to each other. Claire, like I said, was a small girl, cute and always friendly-looking.
I, on the other hand, have never been small. I played football in high school, and was always on the line. I am just a hair under six feet, and broad. I weigh somewhere between two-hundred and two-twenty. I don't really know, to be honest. I work out some, but not to the point where I've ever gained any sort of real definition. I mostly just like to be able to move furniture around my apartment without having to bother friends to help, and not have love handles. I have a beard, close-cropped and well-maintained, and a lot of tattoos. I keep my hair buzzed close to my scalp, and have glasses. I've heard people describe me as a very scary-looking nerd.
I didn't start talking to Claire at work. I think that if work had been the only time I ever saw her, we probably never would have gotten to know each other any better. There would have been no reason to, really.
It started at a movie.
I went out by myself. I like people, and have friends, but I also get into moods where I just like to be alone. I'm not depressed when I do, or angry. Anti-social, I guess, but not vehemently so. I had one of those nights. Didn't want to be around anyone, but didn't want to sit at home either. So I went to a movie.
It wasn't a very good movie, thought I've seen worse. It had been out for a week or so and had just managed to make enough money to be in the theater for another week. I bought a ticket, found a seat. There was nobody else there.
I fished out my cell phone and turned the volume off, checking a Facebook notification while I was at it. As I put the phone back in my pocket I slid low in my seat, making myself comfortable as the lights darkened and the previews started. A young couple came in and sat in the row in front of me, probably unaware of me. That was why I loved going to movies when I was in an anti-social mood. Nobody really looks around dark theaters.
I realized after they sat down that the girl was Claire. I debated saying something, but it looked like she was on a date, so I didn't. If anything, I could say hi after the movie.
The previews ended and the movie started. I was dimly aware of what is a time-honored and possibly cliche scenario playing out in front of me. The boy she was with yawned and stretched, letting his arm come down around Claire's shoulders. She ignored it, for the most part. The kid was one of those Bieber lookalikes, shaggy hair, hat at an angle, pants that look like they're trying to trip him.
A few minutes later, I saw Claire shrug away from him, her hand pushing his away from her chest and back to her shoulder. A few minutes after that, he tried again and I heard her sigh as she pushed him away again.
"Come on," he whined. "It'll be fun." He reached his free hand between Claire's legs and grabbed for her crotch.
"Fuck you!" Claire spat and shoved at him. He pushed back, and suddenly she was struggling to get him off of her as he tried to shove his hand down her pants.
I don't like assholes. From a young age, they have bothered me, and as I've gotten older, that bothering has turned into a deep anger.
I sat forward in my seat and shot my hand forward, knocking the stupid hat off as I grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked back, pulling him against his seat and cranking his head back until his face was pointed at the ceiling. With my free hand, I reached over Claire's shoulder and slipped two of my fingers between his hand and her breast, grabbing some of his fingers and pulling, wrenching his hand back and up, bending the fingers back until just before they snapped.
I put my face next to his, letting him feel my breath hot on his cheek.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I asked slowly. He let out a pained grunt and tried to struggle away. I cranked just a tiny bit more pressure on his fingers, enough to feel the bones strain.
"Fuck you, man!" he yelled.
"Wrong," I said. I pulled his head back a little further, hauling so hard that he had trouble closing his mouth. "You need to say you're sorry."
"Fuck! Sorry!"
"Not to me," I said. I twisted his head around until he could see Claire, sitting open-mouthed and staring. "I don't care enough about you to need an apology. You need to tell her that you're sorry."
"I'm sorry! Claire, I'm so sorry!"
"Better," I said. "Now leave." I let go of his hand and shoved his head away from me, nearly pushing him out of the seat.
To his credit, his stupidity seemed to have reached it's limit, and he ran. One second he was there, the next he was gone, knocking over his drink in the process.
"You OK?" I asked Claire. I turned back to her and she was staring at me. "What? That guy was an ass."
She giggled. "Yeah, I got that. Thanks," she said.
"No problem."
"Though I now have no ride home," she continued.
"Don't worry about it. I'll give you a lift. Want to finish the movie?"
"Yeah," she said. Claire sat and looked at me for another few moments, then seemed to make up her mind about something. She stood up and smoothed down her clothes, a tight babydoll tee and a loose skirt that stopped right above her knee, and walked down her aisle, stepping over the pool of soda and the hat that were the only remnants of her date, and turned into my aisle.
I stood up and moved the couple of things I'd dumped into the seat next to me and she sat, perching daintily next to me and crossing her legs. She sat back and kept staring at me.
"Want some popcorn?" I asked, offering the bucket I'd bought. "Or would you like to keep looking at me like I'm a unicorn or something?" I smiled at her as I finished.
Claire smiled and laughed, taking the bucket.
"Sorry," she said. "I've just never seen anything like that."
