Chapter 35 | Three Feet Feels Like Three Inches

Jordan grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl. It was still warm. Perfectly salted. He ate a few pieces and settled deeper into the couch cushions.

On screen, the main character walked across campus with her phone pressed to her ear. She was talking to someone about a party happening that weekend. Standard horror movie setup. Establish the normal world before everything goes to hell.

Chloe tucked her feet under the blanket and leaned against the armrest. Her eyes were fixed on the screen but her posture was tense. Ready to look away at the first sign of a jump scare.

The movie played out its first ten minutes. Establishing shots. Character introductions. A phone call where a mysterious voice warned the main character that her roommate was going to die.

"Oh great," Chloe muttered. "It’s one of those."

"One of what?"

"The ones where they get stalked through phone calls. Those are the worst."

"Because?"

"Because you can’t see the killer coming. They’re just, like, watching. From somewhere. And you don’t know where."

Jordan looked at her. "You’ve thought about this a lot."

"I watched

Scream

once in high school and had to sleep with the lights on for a week."

"That’s adorable."

"Shut up."

On screen, the roommate walked into the dorm room alone. The music intensified. Chloe’s hands gripped the edge of the blanket.

The roommate moved through the room slowly. Checking the closet. Under the bed. Behind the door.

Nothing.

She sat down at her desk and opened her laptop.

The music stopped.

Chloe’s shoulders relaxed slightly.

Then the phone rang.

The roommate picked it up. "Hello?"

Heavy breathing on the other end.

"Hello?" the roommate repeated.

A distorted voice answered. "You should have listened."

The roommate’s eyes widened. She stood up fast and backed toward the door.

The closet door burst open behind her.

Chloe yelped and grabbed Jordan’s arm without thinking. Her fingers dug into his bicep through his t-shirt.

The killer lunged at the roommate on screen. The camera cut away before showing anything graphic but the sound effects left nothing to the imagination.

Screaming. Struggling. Then silence.

Chloe was still holding Jordan’s arm. Her grip was tight enough to hurt.

"You okay?" Jordan asked.

"This is the worst. I told you this was the worst."

"It’s fake."

"I know it’s fake. That doesn’t make it less stressful."

Jordan shifted slightly so Chloe could hold his arm more comfortably without having to reach as far. She didn’t let go.

The movie continued. Police investigating the crime scene. The main character finding out her roommate was dead. Dramatic music and close-ups of shocked faces.

Chloe’s hand stayed wrapped around Jordan’s bicep.

He could feel the warmth of her palm through the fabric. Her thumb rested just above his elbow. She wasn’t squeezing anymore but she hadn’t pulled away either.

Jordan kept his eyes on the TV and tried not to think about how close she was sitting now. Or how good she smelled. Some kind of vanilla body spray mixed with something floral.

Or how those white shorts had ridden up even higher when she tucked her legs under the blanket.

Focus on the movie.

The main character was talking to a detective now. Explaining about the phone call. The warning she’d received.

"Do you think this is based on a true story?" Chloe asked quietly.

"Probably not."

"But it could be."

"I guess technically anything could be based on a true story if you stretch the definition far enough."

"That’s not comforting."

"You want me to turn it off?"

Chloe hesitated. "No. I’m fine."

"You’re cutting off circulation to my arm."

"Oh." She loosened her grip but didn’t let go. "Sorry."

"It’s cool."

They watched in silence. The main character was getting another phone call. This time the voice told her that her boyfriend was going to die next.

"Why do they always target the boyfriend?" Chloe said. "Just once I want to see a horror movie where the boyfriend survives and the girlfriend dies first."

"That’s dark."

"It’s realistic. The boyfriend is always some muscular football player who thinks he can fight the killer. Obviously he’s going to die."

"You’ve really analyzed this genre."

"I had a lot of time to think about it while not sleeping."

On screen, the boyfriend walked through a dark parking garage alone. His phone rang. He answered it.

"Don’t answer it," Chloe said to the TV. "Why do they always answer unknown numbers?"

"Because the plot requires it."

"Natural selection should have weeded these people out by now."

Jordan laughed. Chloe glanced at him and smiled before looking back at the screen.

The boyfriend kept walking through the parking garage. Footsteps echoed behind him. He spun around.

Nothing there.

He turned back.

The killer stood two feet away.

Chloe screamed and buried her face against Jordan’s shoulder. The blanket fell off her lap.

Jordan froze.

Her face was pressed into his shoulder. Her hand was still on his arm. Her body was warm against his side.

On screen, the boyfriend fought back. There was a struggle. The sound of a knife plunging into flesh.

Chloe made a distressed noise into Jordan’s shirt.

"You want me to pause it?" Jordan asked.

"No. Just tell me when it’s over."

"It’s over."

"Liar. I can still hear screaming."

"Okay fine. Not over yet."

She stayed pressed against his shoulder. Jordan could feel her breathing. Fast and shallow.

The scene finally ended. The camera cut to the main character finding out about the boyfriend’s death.

"Okay now it’s over," Jordan said.

Chloe lifted her head slowly. Her face was flushed. She looked embarrassed.

"Sorry. I got scared."

"I noticed."

"Don’t make fun of me."

"I’m not."

She sat back but didn’t move away. If anything she was closer now than before. Their legs were almost touching under the blanket that she’d pulled back over both of them at some point.

When did that happen?

Jordan’s heart was beating faster than it should be for a guy just sitting on a couch watching a movie.

"How much longer is this?" Chloe asked.

Jordan checked the progress bar at the bottom of the screen. "Like forty-five minutes."

"I’m not going to make it."

"Yes you are."

"I’m going to have nightmares."

"I’ll protect you."

The words came out before Jordan’s brain approved them. He tensed, waiting for Chloe to pull away or make a joke or tell him to stop being weird.

Instead she looked at him. Her blue eyes caught the light from the TV screen.

"Yeah?" she said softly.

Jordan’s throat was dry. "Yeah."

Chloe’s gaze dropped to his mouth for half a second before snapping back to his eyes. Then she grabbed another handful of popcorn and focused very intently on the TV.

"Okay good," she said. "Because I’m definitely sleeping with the lights on tonight."

Jordan grabbed some popcorn too. His hands were steadier than they had any right to be.

The movie played on. The main character was investigating the murders now. Trying to figure out who the killer was before they struck again.

Chloe’s head came to rest against Jordan’s shoulder again. This time not because of a jump scare. Just because.

Jordan didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t do anything that might make her pull away.

His phone buzzed once in his pocket. Probably the System alerting him to something. He ignored it.

Whatever it was could wait.