“Thank you.  It’s the second theatre on your left,” droned the Cineplex employee, ripping the paper stubs off and waving a disgruntled hand in the general desired direction.  His eyes hadn’t even bugged at the sight of Peter perched in Lisa’s gentle hand as she carried him gingerly up to the counter, which the tiny freshman was thankful for.

                He already had plenty to contend with given how anxious he was for this outing, or date, or whatever the heck it was, since they’d wisely avoided putting a label on such a thing when it was just the first time, though as he sat in the incredibly steady palm of his new friend, he felt the slightest hint of clamminess in her skin, indicating she must’ve been in a similar boat.

                “Thanks!” Lisa said spryly with tickets in hand, swerving past the cash register and into the tiled entrance of the place.  Her hand propped a little higher up as she advanced slowly on the well-lit refreshment counter.  Peter couldn’t help but glance down at the luminous glass surface, catching a glimpse of his reflection, modestly dwarfed by Lisa’s still-slight frame that nonetheless towered over him.  He smiled at the sight that had admittedly only danced in his innocent daydreams up to now, unable to help it, and looked up to her beaming expression; she, meanwhile, had apparently been sneaking a peek at him while he inspected their image in the glass, but quickly diverted her gaze again.  The boy had to hold back a chuckle, and again felt a tinge of relief.  Despite being the one who could easily overpower him with the end of her thumb, Lisa was just as nervous as he was.

                “You could’ve let me pay,” Peter reported smugly, patting his friend on the pinky and causing it to tremor.  “I had that twenty bucks all saved up and everything.”

                “Don’t be silly,” she snickered.  “My mom already gave me the money anyway.  I think she and my dad would pay me just to leave the house sometimes and go have fun, if I asked for it.”

                “Why don’t you?  We’ll go to a theme park!” Peter joked.

                “I’ll keep that in mind,” Lisa said.  Her palm rose up until Peter was nearly level with her chin.  “I’m not really a roller coaster person, though.”

                “What a coincidence,” Peter shrugged. He crawled forward on his knees up to the heel of her hand to give himself a better vantage point.  “Neither am I.”

                The two snorted with laughter together as an equally bored employee appeared behind the countertop, indicating that the effervescent glow of the popcorn light did little to allay the dullness of the work.  Peter felt tickled by a few warm goose bumps, knowing that Lisa probably hadn’t even given it a second thought, as he realized she hadn’t been so terrified of offending him by participating in the personal jab at his size that she hadn’t blushed a deep blossom shade and stifled her words into blubbering.  A week ago, this most likely wouldn’t have been the case.

                More and more, that gaping line created between them by the oddity of his situation was coming closed.  And Peter couldn’t have been more eager for it.

                “Can I get you… folks something?” the deadpanning twenty-something employee asked, tweaking the cap of his hat and pausing only momentarily at the sight of Peter in Lisa’s hand.  However, he too didn’t appear jolted enough to offer anything more than a cursory darting of the eyes between the unique couple before his gaze shifted onto the counter again, dull and deadened.  Peter made a mental note to insist on more outings in the future where the staff were too bored with life to be shocked by his presence.  Certainly it would help avoid minor calamities like had occurred over his sister’s milkshake earlier, and better still, meant he might actually extend this wild tryst into a two-date affair.

                Date?  Peter stopped himself from thinking too hard.  Definitely dangerous to assign labels before he could get a full read on Lisa.  Don’t get ahead of yourself, he insisted with a clenching of his steadily sweating fists.

                “Yes!  Peter, um… what do you want?  Candy?  Popcorn?” Lisa questioned, apparently almost startling herself at not having brought this up yet.  A tiny queue of other patrons had formed behind them already, and the miniature freshman could see the employee’s eyes rolling back far enough at this poor timing that his scleras practically overtook his skull.

                “Popcorn sounds… good,” Peter said with a nod.  “If that’s what you want, too.”

                “One small popcorn, please,” Lisa said.  The man seemed to chew on his tongue a little as he robotically set into the motions to bag up a trove of the fluffy buttered snack out of its whirring tank.

                “Not a fan of sweets?” Lisa asked down to her temporary charge.

                “Oh, I like sweets,” Peter said.  “But a lot of those have shells, and if I can’t see what I’m doing in the dark to break them open, I’ll probably just end up dropping anything you hand me on the floor.”

                “Ohhh,” Lisa drawled with quiet recognition, batting those bewitching emerald eyes.  “That makes sense.”

                The freshman almost winced, pre-programmed to expect some show of scientific interest whenever he let slip one of the many strange exceptions his life required to function normally, such as in the consumption of candy, but Lisa had accepted it as though it was the most natural thing in the world.  As though she’d been silly for not having thought of it herself.  It simultaneously filled Peter with relief and also made him wish he could convince her not to place that kind of burden on herself so often, though he knew it would be futile.

                “One small popcorn.  Five ninety-eight,” the employee droned, setting the paper bag painted with colorful logos and promos for some upcoming sci-fi thriller onto the glass counter.  The top was brimming high with clumps of freshly popped corn that instantly flooded Peter’s senses with its overwhelming salty-sweetness, and he tingled at its steamy aroma.

                “Wait.  Stand back.  I’ve got this one,” Peter announced with a timbre of falsely emboldened pride far outpacing his actual confidence level.  It earned a knowing giggle from Lisa, and she nodded.

                “By all means, Mr. Money-Bags,” she said kindly, clearly becoming more comfortable with this familiar tone all the time, and waved her free hand out before him, fingers extended and palm outstretched.

                The refreshments attendant rolled his eyes again and crossed his arms, apparently trying to bite back an irritated grimace, which Peter still much-preferred to a look of abject curiosity about whether or not there was a wind-up mechanism positioned behind his neck.  Quickly he peeled out a craftily rolled-up twenty dollar bill from the sleeve of his pant, the only place long enough to transport the paper even in its carefully compressed form, courtesy of his younger sister helping with the tight folding earlier.  Another lithe note of wind-chime chortles emerged from Lisa’s lips at this sight, which Peter couldn’t help but warm to.  He’d hoped she’d find this a little funny, because he himself certainly did.

                “Here you are, sir,” Peter said as politely as he could, knowing the line behind them had already swelled to four waiting families.  He stiffly held out the tubed bill at arm’s length which, after a moment of unsure hesitation, was accepted between the rough fingertips of the young man, who unrolled the currency and slid it into its appropriate slot in the register.  Tapping at a few more keys and clearing away the charge, the man nudged the popcorn bag forward across the glossy surface, along with a handful of clattering change that Peter instantly realized with an awkward gulp that he couldn’t possibly transport, especially with the introduction of several coins.

                “I’ll… get the change for now,” Lisa offered, scooping up the money and dumping it into her pocket, before clutching the popcorn bag and scooting it off the edge.  She winked as they left the line, leaving the employee to gratefully get on with the next customer, who’d already been vigorously tapping at the plastic face of his watch to indicate his displeasure with all the stalling.  A sly smile crossed Lisa’s lips, almost catching Peter off-guard.  “I’ll get you back later.  Honest.”

                “Yeah, you just watch it with that fourteen dollars of mine, or I’ll send my hired goons after you,” Peter threatened with a wag of his diminutive finger as Lisa padded across the swirling patterns of the faded carpet toward the correct hallway.

                “Oh?  How are you going to hire them if you don’t have your fourteen dollars?” the girl teased, lightly tapping Peter in the shoulder with her fingertip which he realized with a happy start was probably the closest she’d ever come to actual, jovial, physical kidding around with him.  He shifted in the cushiony terrain of her palm, tracing a crease that ran through like a river on a map, using only his thumbnail, and wondered if she could detect it.  Knowing Lisa, she probably did.

                “I’ll… uh… hey, I have other money.  Somewhere…” Peter retorted jokingly.

                “Yep.  I’ll believe that when I see it,” Lisa said.  “I’m sure you’re loaded.”

                “I am!  It’s just rolled up in my other pants,” he added.  Immediately they both broke out into more snickers as they at last reached the gleaming signage above the appropriate door.

                Brushing past the heavy portholed entrance, the redhead entered the darkness, now curling her fingers in a little closer around Peter’s sides to keep him contained in the reduced visibility.  She even laid a fingertip on his shoulder, which he knew very well was for added acknowledgement of his position in the blackness, but that didn’t mean he still couldn’t experience a shoot of pleasure up his spine to be in direct contact again aside from the flooring of her soft palm.  She was practically magnetic, and it only took a simple touch.

                Hesitating momentarily, Peter gritted his teeth and went for it, reasoning that if anything went wrong because of it, he could just argue the same defense that Lisa probably would if he were stupid enough to mention the fact that she’d laid a finger on his shoulder.  Probably faster than he needed to, the five-inch freshman raised his hand and gently laid his palm upon the girl’s nailbed, curling his fingers over the curve of her fleshy digit.  He felt it shiver beneath his touch, but Lisa kept it in place, and neither party said anything about it as she began the ascent up the stairs toward the back of the theatre.

                The previews were already playing, so no one could make out and gawk at the unusual pairing as Lisa clutched the popcorn back against her stomach in one hand and cupped far more precious an item in her other.  She kept the boy level with her chest as she delicately traced the blue guidance lights along the floor with the tips of her shoes.  Peter had insisted she could choose any seat she liked in the place, but after a few explanations of past experiences at the movies, Lisa realized her date had a tough time making out the entire image on the staggeringly massive screen unless he was close to the very back.  So, in the spirit of allowing them both to fully enjoy the show, she promised they’d take the remotest chair they could.

                Luckily, the back row appeared empty, giving them space to spread out, with the popcorn bag on the adjoining seat, and Lisa’s cupped hand now-propped up on her elbow, which she’d pressed into her leg.

                “I can, um, set you down in this one next to me if you like?  It… might be kind of hard to see, though,” Lisa admitted under the quiet roar of the movie trailers that flashed over her cheeks with their epileptic light display.  She bit the corner of her lip and attempted to disguise the forthcoming hope in her voice.  “If you want though, I’ll just… you know, hold you up?”

                “That might be best.  As long as you don’t mind your arm getting tired out,” Peter insisted a little sheepishly.  “I don’t think I can see from down there otherwise.”

                “Then that’s what we’ll do,” Lisa said resolutely, lifting her forearm just a little higher to ensure her hand’s passenger had the best possible view.  Her finger, much to her tiny date’s excitement, remained positioned on his shoulder.  Terrified of bringing attention to this which, despite its G-rated nature, was probably the closest Peter had ever come to real intimacy given the current context, he kept his hand in place over the digit, enjoying the tender grooves of her fingerprint beneath his own touch.

                The freshman was feeling ever-more grateful from the moment-to-moment of whatever-this-was.  Though they were just talking and sitting together like normal, there was a new kind of freedom here.  He’d only ever been able to speak to Lisa at school before, often with the threat of lecturing teachers or jealous teenage socialites casting a stern eye over their proceedings.  Those often served as obstacles, if only at the back of his mind or, where Sharon and her friends were concerned, a more tangible one.  Or three.

                Now, though, there was nothing to get in the way of establishing a line of connection, save for the possibility of screaming babies in the theatre.  Which, Peter had to admit, did open the door for more awkward stammering on his part, but he figured there wasn’t going to be a better opportunity in getting to know this young woman who had captivated him so.  Besides, for the next two hours at least, he didn’t have to feel concerned about tripping himself up or saying something foolish while the movie went on.  He could just bask in Lisa’s company, savoring the feathery weight of her finger draped over his shoulder, and enjoy an activity with her, out on a Friday night, as she generously placed puffs of the over-buttered corn atop her fingers for him to nibble on while the opening credits rolled out.

                Almost like a normal fifteen-year-old.  Which, for Peter, was a more than perfect compromise for now.