The theater is in the basement of a building on campus that I’ve never been in before.
“It’s an old movie from the seventies. A film series,” I tell Rex as we walk downstairs. As soon as the words are out of my mouth all the stupid self-satisfaction I felt at picking something Rex would like fades away. It’s just a movie. And we went to dinner. I took Rex to dinner and a movie. It’s literally the most clichéd date of all time. “I just thought you might like it,” I finish lamely.
Rex just smiles at me. A soft, intimate smile. He cups the back of my neck and pulls me in.
“Thank you,” he says softly, and kisses my ear.
Oh. Well, that’s okay, then.
Once we’re seated, Rex takes my hand. There are only about ten people here and I’m relieved to see that none of them are my students.
“Am I allowed to know what movie it is?” Rex asks.
“The Phantom of Liberty,” I say. “Have you seen it?”
He shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair.
“Thank you for tonight.”
“It’s kind of the least I can do,” I say. “I mean, you carved me something out of a tree with your bare hands.”
“Not really,” Rex says with a warm smile.
“Seriously, Rex. I don’t know why I didn’t think to ask you before. I just, you know, I’ve never asked someone out on a date before. I mean, obviously, I know that’s what you’re supposed to do, but it’s never been part of my life at all, so.”
“I know that,” he says, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. “There are no rules for relationships, Daniel. There’s no one way things are supposed to go. You know that, right?”
I nod. But… aren’t there? I mean, not like Leo’s sister’s dumb kind of rules, but aren’t there things you’re supposed to do, like take your boyfriend out to dinner? There’s that word again.
“None?” I ask.
Rex looks at me intently and I can see him really thinking about it. He shrugs.
“If you care about someone then you look out for them, right? You’re careful with them. But it’s the same as with friends or family. Those are just people rules, though. There are no rules for me, no. I mean, no rules like: you have to buy me flowers or cook me breakfast in bed. No greeting card rules.”
“Fuck!” I say exaggeratedly. “Was I supposed to bring you flowers?”
Rex smirks and puts his hand on my thigh. He touches me all the time. It’s almost like he doesn’t notice it. Like I’m just an extension of his body and so of course he would touch me. But, no, that makes it sound thoughtless. It’s like when I’m near him he decides that it’s his right to touch me. It makes me feel so connected to him. At first, every time we touched I wondered if it might be the last time. I felt greedy about those touches because I wasn’t sure when the next one was coming. Now, it’s like whenever he’s touching me he’s telling me that I’m his. That he’s taking me on as something within his purview.
“We can make our own rules, cowboy,” he drawls as the lights dim.
I laugh at the French translation of the title, Le Fantôme de la liberté, realizing it’s a play on the line, “a spectre is haunting Europe—the spectre of communism,” from The Communist Manifesto, fantôme being the French for spectre. That makes me start thinking about the chapter I’ve been working on and I make an effort to clear my mind so I can pay attention. There may not be greeting card rules to dating Rex, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be writing your book in your head while you’re on a date.
The movie begins and Rex’s hand tightens on my thigh. I glance at him and see that his jaw’s clenched.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” he says, and pats my leg.
The movie is definitely weird, but it’s interesting. I have no background in film. Like I told Rex, I never even watched many popular movies as a kid. Superheroes and some horror movies and that’s about it. But I’m glad Rex likes them because I’ll be happy to get an unofficial education.
After a half hour or so, I notice Rex glancing over at me more and more often. At first it was sweet; he seemed like he couldn’t keep his eyes off me. Now, though, it seems like he may just hate the movie.
“Are you bored?” I whisper.
“No, no,” he says quickly, and looks back at the screen. About twenty minutes later, though, his hand is back on my knee and he’s tracing complicated patterns closer and closer to my crotch, which is making it hard to pay attention. Not that I need to pay particular attention because the movie’s kind of disjointed. A boy and his aunt are making out and Rex is stroking my leg. Some people are sitting on toilets at a dinner table and Rex leans down to softly kiss my neck. I pull away a with a shiver and shoot him a dirty look because I don’t want to get all riled up in a theater at the school where I teach.