... if only you knew how much these little moments meant to me...

On the fifth of May, a Thursday, my hands slapped on the wall of the garage until it hit the garage opener. I stumbled down the few steps and to my beaten down Prius. Yawning, I dug in my various pockets for where I placed my keys earlier in the morning. 

"Clifford!" shouted Mara, jogging up the driveway.

Frightened, I bumped into my car. It started to beep, echoing throughout the garage, successfully bringing Mara and I fully awake, and probably waking up the whole neighborhood. I rushed to find my keys and hush the screaming. 

"I'm so sorry. I just wanted to ask what time your shift was tonight," she said sheepishly. 

"Uh, eight 'til three, I think," I said. 

"I'm ten until three," she said. "Would you mind giving me a ride home?"

"I don't mind."

"Great!"

Then, in my garage, we stood together, each of us looking at our surroundings awkwardly. In our heads, we both were desperately searching for something to speak about; a way to continue the conversation so it didn't have to end. 

"Do you want to--"

"So, the bus--" Mara stopped, giggling. "Sorry. Go ahead."

"I mean, you could ride the bus. My car's open for a ride, if you wanted to. But I so understand if the bus is more your style," I offered. 

"I'd take your piece of shit car any day over the bus."

I circled the car and wiggled the passenger's side door open. It was very Steve Rogers-like of me. 

To rid the silence on our way to school, Mara flipped through my CD collection for an artist or mix to serve as the soundtrack of her day. Surprisingly, she went straight for Awesome Mixtape Vol. 1. I swerved when I saw her insert it into the radio. 

"Whoa, what was that?" she laughed. 

"H-How do you know that CD?" I stuttered. 

"It looked cool. What's on it? Anything good?"

"All of it."

"Of course," she smiled. "Oh, hey, it's almost seven, so there's... Seventeen, yeah? Seventeen hours left until midnight."

"Seventeen hours and one minute," I corrected. 

"Because midnight shows start at twelve-oh-one, right, I forgot," said Mara. "Seventeen hours and one minute until you go into cardiac arrest over this movie."

XXXX

Eleven hours later was when I clocked into the theater. Twelve hours later brought Mara into work. Normally, when she clocked in, a specific routine was followed. She ducked into the bathroom to change into the standard uniform, buy a drink from the concession stand, annoy Cameron the Manager, then take her spot at the ticket booth 

On the fifth of May was the first time I had ever witnessed Mara change ritual. She was already dressed, already supplied with a Sprite bottle, and she skipped seeing Cameron. She went straight to the booth. The pencil in her hand scribbled precisely on the sketchbook settled on top of the counter. 

I watched her carefully. I tried to seem casual, but I was eager for her attention, to ask if she was all right, or if she wanted a refill. I despised not serving her. I lived for the interaction at the counter. It made my day feel regular. 

"Jannick!" said Cameron the Manager abruptly. He blocked my view of Mara. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I sighed. 

"Listen very carefully, Jannick. I'm going to tell you a secret... I do not want to be here."

My shoulders slouched with disappointment. 

"But, because I'm a good worker, I offered to stay on a premiere night. I didn't even get a raise for this. Pitiful, I tell you."

"Absolutely," I said flatly. 

Fast steps approaching us brought both Cameron and I to turn our heads. Eyes wild, Mara sprinted at us. She skidded to a stop at the counter. 

"Carrow, what are you doing from your station?" snapped Cameron.

"I know, don't fire me. I wanted to see if I could work the concession stand tonight," asked Mara. 

Cameron stared. "Carrow, when you called and asked me earlier, what was the answer?"

"No."

"And the answer remains the same," he told her. "Good day."

Nose in the air, Cameron stared to step away from the conversation. Mara procceeded to follow after him. He stopped and squinted at her in disgust. 

"Cameron--"

"That's sir to you, Carrow."

"Sir, I think Clifford needs help at the concession stand. I mean, you know opening night can get hectic, and poor Cliff is the only one working at the stand."

Cameron inhaled an annoyed sigh. "Jannick, do you need help?"

Mara's head snapped to me. Her squinted eyes told me I needed to get my shit together, fast, before my curious gaze was brought to Cameron's attention. 

Raising my eyebrow at her, I muttered, "Yes, I could use help."

"Then ask Jason."

"No, let me do it," protested Mara.

"Last time you worked at the counter, you dropped forty dollars worth of Icee's."

"But I think I've grown in my abilities," said Mara. "Plus, I drank and paid for those."

"You're not helping your case."

"Sir, may I please work at the concession today?"

"No."

Mara squatted on the floor, hands clasped. "Sir, you are the best boss of my life..." she started to say, clearly sucking up to get what she wanted, for whatever reason. 

Cameron smirked. 

"... best boss I will ever have!" continued Mara. "Please, please--"

"If you find someone to fill in at the booth, I don't care what the hell you do," said Cameron at long last. 

Mara popped on her feet again, squealing excitedly. She stopped when Cameron growled at her. She dusted her clothes off on his command. 

"Do not make a scene like that ever again," he ordered strictly. 

"There will be no scenes except in the actual theater," agreed Mara.

"She breaks anything, it's coming out of your paycheck, Jannick," he threatened, then stalked from us. 

I leaned over the counter. "Mara, what in the ass? What are you doing? Why do you want to be back here so bad?"

Mara held a finger in my direction. She ran across the theater to Jason, a freshman in college, who worked janitor duty. He was shuffling the cleaning supplies into the women's bathroom. She dove in there after him. 

Later, after the night ended, I ended up hearing exactly what went on in the women's bathroom. It went something similar to this:

"Jason, please, please, please, cover the ticket booth for me. I need to be doing concession," pleaded Mara. 

"Why?" he asked. 

"For reasons that aren't any of your business. Will you do it?"

Jason had turned to look at her. "Yes, in return for something."

"If you ask me to suck your dick, I'll punch you in the face."

"I have a girlfriend," he defended.

Her voice flat, Mara said, "Yeah, and where does she live?"

After an obvious pause to think, Jason said, "Ohio."

"You don't have a girlfriend," said Mara with an eye roll. "What do really you want?"

"Well, my old woman is gonna be fifty in a few months and she's going to Paris. I wanted to give her a dress for when she went out, but I can't shop for my life," sighed Jason.

"Yes, I remember when we had Spanish together," sighed Mara painfully.

Jason punched her shoulder. "Whatever. Point is, I want you to make her a dress. What do you say?"

"Now that I can do."