Counterprogramming

Meg sluggishly opened her eyes in the complete darkness. Disoriented, the faint sound of a vacuum inhaling popcorn brought her back to reality. Still dazed, she wondered if  her friends left her there? When did she fall asleep? She looked down at her watch, 1:17AM?!? The movie must’ve ended an hour ago. Seriously Casey?! She yelled audibly; it didn’t matter, no one was in the room with her. Her fingers furiously typed a message. She paused, grumbled at her phone, then deleted it. Casey was sensitive, Meg didn’t want to start an argument with her.

Annoyed, she revised her message: “GURL...WHAT? Thanks for ditching me!”

Her phone pinged: “I’m sooo sorryyy!! We couldn’t wake you up! I couldn’t get home late again, you know my dad! Txt me when you get home!”

Meg rolled her eyes. Great, she thought. At least her parents thought she was spending the night at Casey’s. Matty must’ve wondered where she was, “Hi babe! OMG I guess I fell asleep at the movie?!?! Casey left me lol wtf… I’ll be there in like 20! Leave the door unlocked in case you fall asleep ;)”

She peeled her purse off the movie theater floor, and left, her Monchhichi keychain dancing along, with every stomp. The lobby was empty; only the concessionaires were there to clean up. She recognized a few of them from school. They wiped sticky counters, removed old hot dogs off the spinning thingy, tossed popcorn at each other. As they cleaned, they somehow were making a bigger mess. Meg rolled her eyes again, then paused. Why didn’t they wake her up? Whatever, Meg thought. Weird night. She went to the restroom to freshen up before leaving. She hoped to causally slip out of the glass door that sat on the left of the lobby, embarrassed that she fell asleep and was still there. The door wouldn’t budge—locked.

Of course, she grumbled.She turned back towards the unnecessarily golden main entrance. Passing by the snacks, she saw that they had cleaned up the mess and restocked the concessions; she’d never seen anything like it before. Orderly lines of bagged popcorn, multiple flavors of Slurpees, and every candy imaginable glistened under the lights. Hmm, she thought, they must have some event going on or something… weird. She was partially curious, but mostly exhausted and would never admit she was interested. Whatever, that movie will come out in like two weeks, she thought.

An official-looking usher unhooked the velvet maroon rope and unlocked the entrance. People flooded in, spinning Meg into the chaotic crowd. How am I gonna get out of here noww?? She whined. She snagged a bag of sour patch kids, and a Cherry-Coke Slurpee, and found a bench to sit on until the chaos settled. No one could know she was still there. She didn’t dare risk becoming the girl who fell asleep at the movies, and a party-crasher. After an hour, she saw her opportunity to book it. She stood, regretting drinking her Slurpee so fast.

Returning from the restroom—again— she saw a sizeable break in the crowd. Sweet! She squealed. It was calmer, but the lobby still buzzed. Ushers continued leading people to different theaters. Meg looked around again, geez—how many people were attending this thing?

She was determined to get to her car, but caught a glimpse into one of the theaters, number six. Her curiosity got the best of her, what are these people even watching at 1:30 AM, anyway? She peered through the crack of the door. Some kind of weird medical drama was playing.

This is what everyone came to see in the middle of the night? Lame.

She backed up, startled by loud rumbles that sent vibrations through her. It was the theater five, booming. A different movie? She had to know, so she peeked in. Seemed like some car movie—maybe racing? Is this like some indie film festival?

No thank you! She scoffed, remembering all semester’s film class. Mr. Thorton stopped each film so often, the students all forgot what they were even watching—or why. An entire week to get through Citizen Kane, and it was the freakin’ sled? She realized then she no longer wanted to be a “film person,” even though it sounded cool. Meg loved movies, especially funny ones. After that class she appreciated that stopped the movie in the theater every time there was a bowl of orange onscreen. Mr. Thorton called her kind of movies “sophomoric,” whatever that meant.

Oh, my goodness, I gotta go! She blurted out, remembering Matty was waiting for her. Her hand was almost on the gold push-bar, but she was distracted again. Uncle Travis? What is he doing here, I didn’t clock him for a film-y person. She hadn’t seen him in forever. He seemed different, sober. He was waiting and chatting with someone in line for theater one, thankfully he didn’t see her. The line neared the end and Meg snuck in closely behind her uncle. The door closed behind her, sending a gust of air through the room. The screen rippled like silk in the wind. The screen? Ha, that’s new. Sarcastically, she dismissed the change. Must be some “artistic” film thing.

Uncle Travis stood up; she’d know his gleaming bald head anywhere. He was walking towards the front of the theater. Figures, Meg thought; he refused to wear his glasses.

She admired him for a second, he seemed happy, looked healthy. She’d never seen him well before.

He’s apparently got a new thing for indie films, she laughed to herself, thinking that was a little unusual. Maybe it’s an AA thing, she concluded.

Theater one was showing some film that looked worse than the first two.  It was kind of like those house tour tiktoks, but lame. The houses looked normal, no gumball tower in the living room, nothing exciting. Ew, how boring. She jumped when she felt someone tug at her arm, “Ticket, please?” the usher asked apathetically.

 She’d been caught. “Sorry I was just leaving, thought I left my purse.”

Craning her neck to look back; her uncle was nowhere to be seen. Not one gleaming head in the entire crowd.

She was escorted to the door. Finally! She thought, not recognizing that she kept getting distracted, instead of leaving. She was supposed to be at Matty’s two hours ago. Still, she wondered about Travis’ new lifestyle— new friends. Good for him, she thought, I hope it lasts this time. She scurried to her car, surprised there was still an entry line wrapped around the building. Film people, she scoffed.

She froze in her tracks. Her mom and her friend Lisa were standing near what looked like the end of the line. Baffled, she watched the ladies for a second. Is this what her mom did when she wasn’t home? She shook her head, realizing what trouble she would be in if her mom saw her. She sprinted to her Jetta, barely avoiding the overhead lighting.

When she got to Matty’s, it was almost 3:30 AM. She jiggled the front door.

Locked. Of course this would happen tonight, locked. Furrowing her brow, she stomped her foot on the ground. She kept calling and calling, no answer.

Ugghhh Matty! she whined. She pictured him asleep in front of his gaming computer again. Awesome, she muttered, throwing her head in the air. It was way too late to go to Casey’s—way too early to go home. She sat in her car, becoming more irritated by the minute. She tried Matty again, then drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up, her stiff neck cracked as she turned her head. Oww…Ggrrr! She was just as bothered as when she fell asleep. She gasped, wait—what time is it?! Phew, she sighed, only 5:43 AM. There was stilltime to sneak in. Her heart pounded, her neck hurt. If they caught her, she wouldn’t be allowed to see Matty ever again.

Silencing her keychains in one hand, she slowly turned the key with the other. Tiptoeing over the threshold, she shrieked. Her parents were on the couch. “Uh, oh hi!” Meg stuttered, “I’m home!!,” she sang way too loud.

Something was off. her mom didn’t say a word about Meg’s theatrical entrance.

Their coffee cups looked untouched. Her dad stared at the rip in the carpet while her mom, Shay, picked at the seam of the couch.

“Why are you home so early, Megz” Shay investigated.

“Oh, yaaa knowww, Casey had to take the little ones to Sunday School. Her mom started yelling about it at like five in the morning again, so I bounced.”  

It wasn’t really a lie; Casey and her mom played the same game every other Sunday. 

“But… what are you guys doing up so early?” Meg returned the question.

Her parents often slept on Sundays. “Well,” her dad began, “we have something to tell you.”

“No need to tiptoe around it, Rob,” her mother interrupted. “

Uncle Travis passed away last night, honey; he had a heart attack,” she remarked. Meg’s uncle was only a few years younger than her mom, but the two hardly ever spoke.

“What?” Meg stammered, but…” She caught herself right before she slipped on her lie.

Shay always knew she’d get this call, just didn’t know when. So, it wasn’t shocking but still crushing.

“He was home, all alone, just like I knew....” Shay darted her eyes away from her daughter; she wanted Meg to think she was strong.

“I’m really sorry, Mom,” Meg said.

“Yea, me too, Megz.” Shay replied.

“I’m gonna go shower,” Meg said, not really knowing what else to say.

The shower took forever to get hot.

Meg waited.

She overheard her parents talking. “You know Rob, I told Lisa, I’d go to that movie thing with her tomorrow night.” He replied, “She’ll obviously understand, babe.”

Instantly he regretted his words, he knew his wife loves these kinds of things. Shay had always dreamed of meeting a celebrity, never mattered who. She subscribed to both People and Us Weekly religiously, sharing every detail with her family—as if the featured celebrities were close friends.

Rob pivoted, “You know, that probably is a good idea to get your mind off of things for a bit.”

Maybe she’ll get a glimpse of someone famous, he hoped.

As she stepped into the shower, Meg’s heart fell to the floor. The details of the night before flooded her mind with each drop of water.

The film festival.

The ushers.

The weird movies.

Uncle Travis.

Her mom standing there with Lisa.

The water turned to ice, pellets hitting her body. She didn’t know if she was going to be sick or faint. She sank to the bottom of the bathtub.

No, it… no…Meg doubted her memory, doubted what she saw.

She stepped out of the shower and began to towel off. What would she say to her mom? What could she say?

She knew she couldn’t tell her parents a single thing; she’d be grounded until she got married.

Oh, or even worse. They’d probably send her somewhere for crazy people, they’d never believe her. Why would they?

“Yea, I’m sure you’re right,” Shay dazedly stared at the kitchen wall. “I don’t want to disappoint Lisa.”

Meg could hear Shay’s slippers hit the kitchen linoleum. She stood silently in the bathroom, shaking in her towel. She leaned out the bathroom door, steam flowing out, yet the hair on the back of Meg’s neck stood straight. She rubbed her arms.

“Hey, mom?” she said trying to steady her voice, choking back tears.

“Yea?” Shay called from the kitchen, voice muffled by the hum of the microwave.

“I love you.”

It felt like years since Meg said those words to either one of her parents, unprovoked, or without wanting something. Rob mouthed, “What about me?” Shay glared back at him. It wasn’t even 7:00 AM, and she was already drained dry. She didn’t have it in her to put her counselor cap on or begin to translate Meg’s feelings to Rob. They’d all been through enough for one morning—for an entire week.

“Well, maybe tomorrow night you’ll be there,” whispering to Us Weekly’s glossy cover: “Stars of the Week,” stared back at her in bold lettering. The thought made Shay smile for a second; she was always reaching for any silver lining she could grasp.

“I love you too, Megz.”