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“Given the amount of times I’ve watched Jumanji – that’s my favorite movie, you know –”
Gregory hears Janine’s voice carry from the next table over, and he lifts his head up from the book it’s buried in. She’s not even talking to him; she’s talking to Jacob, partaking in some conversation about board games. Gregory likes board games. And he likes the person – uh, people – participating in the conversation. But he’s still relatively new here, so he thought it best, when he walked into the teacher’s lounge a few minutes ago, to sit at an empty table and mind his own business.
But now that this tidbit has dropped, a new fact about Janine Teagues, his ears are ringing.
“That’s a good one - with Robin Williams, right?” Gregory says. He surprises himself by realizing he’s actually spoken aloud.
“Yes!” Janine lights up. Gregory feels a smile slink onto his face as she continues. “The original one, from the 90’s. I used to beg my mom to buy me old board games for Christmas, like thrifted ones, in the hope that I’d discover Robin Williams trapped inside one of them. But she’d just buy me clothes instead. And the clothes were usually her style. And size.”
“Weren’t you worried that if an old board game released Robin Williams, it would release all those destructive jungle obstacles too?” Gregory asks.
“You know, that thought crossed my mind but it never deterred me,” Janine reminisces. Gregory laughs. As Jacob directs the conversation back to its original board game focus, Gregory silently slots another piece into the Janine puzzle.
Janine Teagues loves teaching. She went to Penn. She’s an optimist. She’s fiercely dedicated to Abbott. She has one sister. She basically raised herself.
Her favorite movie is Jumanji.
*****
“And the best part about this field trip being a sleepover is we’ll get to see if the exhibits really come to life,” Janine says coyly, her hands playing with the strap of her bag as they walk down the hall towards the school’s back doors.
“Uh - are the exhibits not alive during the day?” Gregory asks. He doesn’t even understand his own question. But he’s not following what Janine is saying.
“Gregory - have you never seen Night at the Museum?” Janine implores, suddenly dismayed.
“Oh, that movie.” Gregory understands a bit more now. “No, I don’t think I have.”
“Gregory,” Janine says seriously. She stops in her tracks and puts her hand on Gregory’s arm in a display of indignation. He stops too, doing his best to not let what’s going on in his heart show on his face. “It is such a good movie. You have to watch it before we go to the Franklin Institute. You’ll never see museums the same way.”
“Okay,” Gregory agrees. “I’ll add it to my list.” Gregory is indeed one of those people who keeps a running list of movies he’d like to watch when he’s got time. When he says he’ll add it to his list, he means it. But what he doesn’t say out loud is that this movie has not been added to the bottom of the list, but to the very top.
Maybe Janine is right, and this movie will change how he sees museums – but that’s not why he’s keen to watch it. No, he’s more interested in what this movie will reveal about Janine: why her eyes shone and her stubborn-passionate voice came out when she started talking about it. Why this movie seems to be part of her constitution.
Gregory’s pretty sure he has time to watch it tonight.
*****
“Sorry, can we just - slow down for a second?” Janine says as she takes a step back from Gregory.
Minutes ago, he’d showed up at her doorstep and kissed her. And she had kissed him back. And they were kissing each other, and it was glorious, and his heart was on fire, and the camera crew was gone. But the second his hands started hovering near the zipper of her dress, she’d broken apart and backed away.
“Yeah, ‘course,” he replies. Despite his steady tone, dread drops into his stomach like a brick. This is it: over before it even starts. She had seemed just as into it as he was, but what if he read her signals all wrong? Why can he never get this thing with Janine right when it’s the only thing he truly wants?
“Gregory, that was – amazing,” Janine says, breathless. The brick in Gregory’s stomach lightens slightly. It feels more like a dense loaf of banana bread or something now. “And I really, really, really like you, and I’m so glad you came back tonight. I was actually about to go run after you, because I couldn’t wait another day to tell you how I feel.” This doesn’t sound like a rejection, but Gregory still braces himself waiting for the “but.”
“But –” (there it is) “– I’m a little…nervous. Because, you know, I’ve only been with one other person, and it’s been a while, and I don’t want to mess this up…”
Oh. Oh. This isn't about him. It’s about her. Sometimes Gregory thinks so highly of Janine, he forgets that she feels insecure too.
“Janine –”
“I mean, I want to go there with you,” Janine continues, giving Gregory a look that pumps hot blood through his body. “But today was a lot, and I’m just feeling kind of overwhelmed –”
“Janine,” Gregory says again. This time it seems to get through to her, as she stops mid-sentence. “You don’t have to explain yourself. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with tonight.” Pure relief washes over Janine’s facial features, and it dawns on him that he’s not the only one who’s afraid of losing what has barely started.
He notices Janine’s hands wringing then, and he wants to calm them, comfort her. It’s an instinct he’s had to fight before, but now he can give into it. Carefully, he reaches out to take her fidgeting hands into his. They’re small and warm. He brushes his thumbs across the backs of them. The way Janine looks up at him through her lashes makes him want to never let go.
But he will, if that’s what she needs.
“Do you want me to - ” Gregory starts, glancing at the door.
“No,” Janine says, cutting him off before he can even finish the thought. “I don’t want you to go home.” Her brows are furrowed as she looks at their joined hands, and he can feel all of the stress she’s holding there. The worry of misstepping now that they’ve officially started on this road together. The pressure to get it all right.
“Then I won’t,” Gregory answers earnestly. He tries to think of something low-key that they can do tonight. Something that they can enjoy together without all the pressure of talking about how they feel or defining what this is or what’s next. His mind casts around. “Want to watch a movie?”
“That sounds perfect,” Janine beams. He can feel the stress melting off of her already. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking...prehistoric DNA and scientific hubris.”
“Jurassic Park?” Janine guesses excitedly. Gregory grins in confirmation. He knew he wouldn’t have to mention dinosaurs for her to get it. “1000%. Let me get some popcorn!”
Gregory suggested Jurassic Park because he knows Janine is familiar with it, and he’s getting the sense that she needs comfortable and familiar tonight.
He also suggested it because he knows this movie front to back. So if his attention happens to be diverted by say, the smell of Janine’s hair or the feeling of his hand on her shoulder, he’ll still be able to follow the plot. And if his eyes are more drawn to the beautiful woman sitting next to him than the screen, and his mind is more preoccupied by the fact that this is finally happening than Mr. DNA’s monologue, well, he’s pretty sure he’ll still enjoy the movie.
****
“I think we should watch Dune first. Because I’m gonna be honest, when I watched Dune 2, I had no idea what was going on.”
“Alright,” Gregory says distantly. He’s not really in the conversation right now. He’s too busy going through a mental checklist, making sure he’s done everything possible to isolate the ringworm to outside of Janine’s apartment. He stripped off his shoes, gloves, and even overalls before stepping foot inside, then immediately washed his hands, changed into clean clothes that he kept in Janine’s drawer, then washed his hands again –
“I know Zendaya is a warrior, and Timothee Chalamet is like a messiah, but I’m excited to see their meet-cute.”
“Uh-huh,” Gregory remarks. Wait, Janine hasn’t changed yet. The fungi could still be on her dress. Gregory opens his mouth to speak and registers a look of hope flash across Janine’s face. She’s hopeful, probably, that he’s about to follow her lead and comment on the movie. He knows his actual comment will be disappointing. But he can’t stop himself.
“Janine, would you mind, uh – changing into different clothes?” His anxieties around ringworm have already put him on thin ice today so he’s trying to be as gentle as possible. But he can’t, can’t imagine sitting next to Janine for hours while pressed up against the clothes that were in the infested school.
Gratefully, if Janine feels disappointment or annoyance, she doesn’t show it.
“Oh, yeah you’re right,” she says, looking down at her clothes. (How lucky she is to only register the possible infestation now, and not be constantly conscious of it.) “I probably should.” She walks into her room and Gregory breathes a sigh of relief. But from the other room, she continues to talk to him. “Hey, you’ve seen the first Dune before. Do you think the Dunes could actually be one of those series that’s better when you watch the sequel first? You know, like Star Wars?”
Gregory was about to do an umpteenth self skin check for little red rings, but the question is so absurd, it takes him right out of the task.
“What? No, I don’t think it’s like Star Wars at all,” he calls to the room where Janine’s voice is coming from. “You already said you were confused when you watched Dune Part Two.”
“Not like Star Wars at all, you say?” Janine’s teasing voice carries, still out of sight. “But they both have planets and princesses and sand.”
“Star Wars filmed the sequels before the prequels, so they ensure you have the proper information to enjoy the movies out of their chronological order,” Gregory explains. But he’s not sure why he’s explaining. He’s sure Janine knows this. “While the first Dune movie, as you’ll find out in a minute, establishes politics and world-building that are vital to the plot of the sequel.”
“Like what?” Janine asks as she emerges from the bedroom in a clean lounge set.
“Like –” Gregory’s mind is now racing through the plot of the first Dune movie. How do they achieve such impressive world-building? He can’t quite remember…but he remembers it being good. An excitement that he thought he abandoned in the teacher’s lounge this morning returns to him in a small dose.
“You’ll see,” Gregory smiles. Janine smiles back at him, a gleam in her eye. She knew exactly what she was doing, he realizes. She was asking him movie questions to get his mind off of the ringworm. And it worked like a charm, if only temporarily.
The ringworm, terribly, does not elude them for the entire weekend. It’s after Dune but before their planned watching of Friday that Gregory first discovers a little red ring on his collarbone, and one of his worst fears comes to fruition.
But if he’s going to get ringworm, he’s glad Janine is there. With her newly acquired knowledge of Dune, she’s able to make some pretty good worm jokes, and Gregory even manages to smile at one.
*****
“Is this enough flour?” Janine asks Gregory, heaving a giant bag off of the grocery store shelf. “I need to make a lot of cookies. But I don’t bake that often, so I don’t know if this should be good, or if I need a second bag…”
“I think that’s more than enough,” Gregory says, alarmed that they even sell bags as large as the one that Janine is currently lifting like a boulder. He hastily takes the bag from her arms before she hurts herself. “Why so many cookies?”
“For when everyone comes over on Christmas Eve!” Janine says, like it’s obvious. She had told Gregory this a few weeks ago, that she’d invited the whole Abbott crew over for the 24th, just in case someone had nowhere else to go. It was incredibly kind of her. But he didn’t realize she was under the impression that people would actually show up.
“Oh – have you heard from anyone about that?” Gregory asks cautiously. “Because I know Melissa’s got her big family dinner thing on Christmas Eve. Barbara will definitely be going to that, and I’m sure Jacob will too, since he lives there. Mr. Johnson has been muttering something about the North Pole on Christmas Eve, so I have no idea what that’s about, but I wouldn’t count on him to be there. And Ava – well, you know Ava. I’m sure she’s got about a hundred other places to be.”
“While that may all be true, I haven’t received any hard nos,” Janine explains, “So it’s best to be prepared.” Gregory studies her smile. She is an optimist, always, so this expectation of hers shouldn’t surprise him. Still, he’s worried that she may be crushed on the 24th when she’s got three dozen cookies prepared and no one to serve them to.
“Okay,” Gregory concedes. They continue down the grocery aisle, picking up more baking ingredients, but Gregory’s brain stays in the discussion, hesitant to move on. It’s not until Janine is considering the precise kind of red and green icing to buy that Gregory figures out the angle he wants to take.
“So Janine, you said it’s best to be prepared. Are you also prepared if it only ends up being the two of us on Christmas Eve?”
“Oh, yeah!” Janine says, standing up from where she was crouched by the icing options. “If it’s just us, we’ll snuggle on the couch and watch Elf. And I’ll have to eat a lot of cookies, which is not a problem.”
“Oh, okay,” Gregory says, relieved. “I’m glad to hear you’ve considered the alternatives.”
“I mean, that’s the best alternative to consider,” Janine says happily. “You and me and Will Ferrell on Christmas Eve? I couldn’t ask for anything better.”
“You could ask for The Muppet Christmas Carol,” Gregory plays along. “The clearly superior Christmas movie.”
“You’re a Muppets guy?” Janine exclaims, like this is one of the best facts she’s ever uncovered about Gregory. “Oh my god, who’s your favorite Muppet?”
“I like the human in every Muppet movie who’s surrounded by Muppets.”
“Gregory!” Janine laughs. “That is not the correct answer. The correct answer is like Gonzo, or Beaker, or Rizzo the Rat.”
“There can’t be a ‘correct’ answer to an opinionated question,” Gregory retorts, laughing just the same.
“Wrong again.” They’re laughing so much, Gregory thinks they might be making a scene in the baking ingredients aisle of this grocery store.
“Alright, here’s my correct answer,” Gregory says, putting his arm around Janine’s waist and pulling her in by his hip. If they’re gonna be that couple in public, he might as well lean into it. “I’m honored that your ‘best alternative’ scenario on Christmas Eve is you and I watching a movie together. That’s my best alternative too.”
“That’s my best alternative every day, if I’m being honest,” Janine says. Her words carry straight to his heart. “You and I and movies.”