Caribbean Crossroads by Connie E Sokol

pleasant but familiar piercing expression. After opening the theater door Megan glanced back at Bryant, still standing on the stage watching her, arms folded with that half-smiling arrogant expression on his face. She’d seen that expression before—that knowing look, that sureness. Someone else had smiled at her that way—like he knew her, and how to reach her, and would eventually reach her in the end.
    And that someone had hurt her. A lot.
    Megan slammed the theater door shut and strode down the hallway. 
    She would not fall. Not again. Not ever.
     

CHAPTER FOUR
    Megan pursed her lips in frustration—railroaded by Jillian again. She had planned to arrive right at two o’clock to a dark cinema room but Jillian had found her intentionally hiding out at the small cafeteria rather than the crowded buffet line, and had shepherded her to the movie a half hour early.
    That was meddling Jillian, who didn’t understand that this was a new Megan. It was too soon for her to fraternize with the enemy—way too soon. She would not—repeat not—get anywhere close to caring, especially for one of these Premier Performer types. She’d learned her lesson and things were different now. Much better to spend her time on safe pursuits, like not falling on stage, rather than falling for some guy. 
    Entering the small gray room, Megan saw about 30 theater-style seats with over half of them full. Most of the cast and crew—and some others she didn’t recognize—were seated in three and four rows, laughing and talking. Megan looked for a seat farthest from the fray. Jillian tugged her towards Chalise, who was sitting by Brittany and several others on one side, with open seats on the other.
    Thinking of an excuse, Megan allowed herself to be momentarily led. As they closed in on the row, she said, “Um, I’ll just see about popcorn.” A perfect time to bolt.
    “Oh, Bryant went to get some, don’t worry,” said Chalise, pointing to the empty seat next to her, and the rest of the row. It was then Megan saw a man’s jacket.
    Bryant? Megan remembered her feelings slamming the theater door.
    It’s all right. Be cool, be distant. Hostile if necessary.
    Jillian nudged her towards Chalise. “I’m sitting with my handsome man, I just wanted to drop her by.” She pulled a face—“Megan’s being social today.”
    Megan sat down hard. Awkward conversation for the next 30 minutes between Bryant, Brittany Shay , and Chalise—lovely.
    Just as Megan finished small talk hellos with the girls and settled back, Bryant walked in balancing complimentary bags of popcorn and large soda cups. Chad came to his rescue and took some for the row behind them—he was sitting with someone she recognized from the sound crew.
    When Bryant approached their row, he paused, then continued, stepping around Megan as she stood to make room.
    “Sorry, let me lean back here,” she said, scooting back as far as she could. He faced her, side stepping, looking down only inches from her face, squeezing popcorn and soda between them. As he divided the spoils, Megan could have sworn she saw Brittany looking over every few minutes, though it could have been to talk to Chalise, which she did frequently.
    Settling in, Bryant passed Megan popcorn.
    Feeling his body close to her, warm and solid, she decided to jump straight to hostile.
    “I don’t like popcorn,” she said.
    He gave her a look. “You’re American, aren’t you?”
    She returned the look.
    “Fine, take this,” he said, handing her a soda cup.
    She took the soda cup, wiped the straw tip with her finger and took a quick sip, trying to ignore his sun on skin smell.
    Why did he affect her so much, make her feel so ready to let down? Megan tried to sort through her own confusion. She kept trying to compare him to Jackson, but he didn’t seem so much like that. Instead, he was so familiar to her in another way …
    Sam. That’s right, he reminded her of Sam. Megan’s eyebrows lifted. That’s all