Author's Note:
This story is primarily a Non-Consenusal/Reluctance story. The story may be upsetting to those sensitive to the themes of rape or sexual assault.
*****
The summer I got graduated high-school I started my first job at the movie theater.
For the most part I enjoyed it. I got to see free movies, and all soda and popcorn I could possibly want.
Of course, the customers were the worst part. At least once a week something would happen that'd make me want to quit on the spot. People would burrate me or my coworkers for things beyond our control. I'd be called stupid for human errors. I could tell that a lot of them looked down on me. With the older folks, it was clear they looked down on me was 18. Too young to know how to do anything, and less tell them 'no' when they want me to bend the rules. At some point though I realized it was because I was there at all. I may have gone to high school with them or their kids, but I wasn't cut from the same cloth.
I didn't go to a university right after college. My family couldn't afford it so I was paying my own way the best I could. I wasn't a good enough student to hunt a scholarship, but I could handle a part-time job and a full course load at a community college. I'd be graduating around the same time as my peers but there was something about the uniform. They see you in it and they think you're lost.
Samantha Hayes was the worst example of this. She could cut me down with a single look. She had been in a few of my classes, and I hated talking to her. Just something about the way she talked to me feel bad.
I met Samantha for the first time after graduation in August for the opening night of the movie
Don't Breathe.
I was that night's ticket-taker. I turned to stone as soon as I saw her. She was an inch or two shorter than me. She was lanky and thin, but moved with all the glory of a great egret. Her gaze was like one too. Her eyes would hold me with a strange curiosity. Clearly analyzing something but giving no hint of what held her interest.
I was resigned to keeping my eyes down and sending her on her way. I'd run into old classmates all the time, and if we were just mere acquaintances we'd barely acknowledge our past connection. But Samantha surprised me.
"Willow!" she cheered.
"Oh hi, Sam," I said sheepishly.
"So this is what you're doing now?"
"I'm starting community college in the fall."
"Oh that's cute. I'm going to..."
I was too aggravated to remember what university she would be attending. I scanned her ticket and pointed her to theater 7 for Don't Breath.
"You know, Willow," she said before she went on her way. She had this look in her eye that was different than her typical sharp gaze, "You look amazing in those pants."
I don't think the color faded from my cheeks until the rush was over. I calmed myself down and forgot about Samantha. About an hour later, my coworker Jessica appeared.
She hated working usher. Her legs were tired. She asked if I could switch stations tonight. I obliged.
"Theater 7 is due for a check."
"Alright."
Due to company policy, there had to be 2 to 3 theater checks within given certain intervals. It was so strict that older theaters didn't bother, but we were too new to be spared. I didn't mind them much. It was interesting peeking in on movies I might not have seen myself.
That night I walked in on the "Turkey Baster" scene.
I was in the back of the theater when I needed to stop and let those three minutes wash over me. My thoughts racing.
Is that what I think it is?
Wait, he's doing what?
This isn't NC-17?
I didn't snap out of it until the scene ended. I realized that not everyone in the audience was watching the screen. There was a pale face watching me.
It was Sam. She had this look that I couldn't place until later.
That expression under the shifting light of the screen-- It wasn't judgment, or annoyance. It was hunger.
*****
About a month passed after that encounter. It was late September. College for many had either started or was about to. Business was winding down for the summer and the weeknights were getting real slow.
That particular night, I was the closing usher. The only staff other staff members were Jessica and our manager, Jean.
Samantha passed me in an empty hallway into the last showing of "Don't Breath". She was wrapped around the arm of a former high-school star athlete Grayson Gadwall. I meet their eyes and they smile at me. It's subtle but I can feel it in their stares, it was the same look as Samantha had before.
During the first theater check, I realized that it was only them in the theater. While going up the stares, despite not daring to look at them I feel their eyes on me. I tried to keep my eyes on the screen, to monitor the projector's quality, but I couldn't help but notice that Samantha was rubbing Grayson under his jeans.
Eyes back to the screen. This happened a lot. I learned a long time ago you just ignore it. Only act if someone complained.
Grayson let out a groan. My eyes fluttered. Samantha was looking at me.
Back to the screen
. Rocky and her gang of hooligans were about to rob an old man blind (because he's blind). Little did they know they were in way over their head.
Grayson sighs. This time my eyes shift down the stairs. I leave theater 7 with my eyes wide.
"What's with you?" Jessie asks when I pass her.
I don't say anything at first. I need to breathe a little.
"The couple in theater 7 are getting affectionate."
"Is he FINGERING her?" Jessie says, a little too loud.
"No, no!" I make a gesture for her to quiet down.
"What then?" this time almost an excited whisper. Jessie always loved hearing about the perverts.
"HER hand is down HIS pants," I say. "The sounds he made... I guess she's good."
"Oh gosh!" she laughs quietly. "And that movie of all movies!"
Everyone who works here knows about the turkey baster scene. I think about Samantha's expression under the scene's light. I feel a guilty sense of arousal.
"Some people are freaks," I sigh. Jessie giggles, and I move on with my duties. I try to put Samantha out of my mind.