Shameless (The Therapist #2), стр. 20
Once we’re out of earshot of the booth, Ava turns around and glares at the woman. I notice her walking forward but looking backwards, so I turn around to find the woman staring at Ava with a bewildered look on her face. The two of them seem to be having a staring contest, but I’m guessing only one of them knows why.
“What’s up? You good?” I ask, and before Ava answers, she takes my hand in hers and pulls me closer to her, while still staring at the woman in the booth.
“I’m fine,” Ava replies, as she finally turns around with a boastful look on her face. “Let’s get some popcorn.”
“Umm, cool.”
The two of us walk to the concession stand, where we have to wait in another line. While we wait, Ava still has ahold of my hand. I catch her stealing glances back at the ticket booth, but the woman inside is busy with other customers. Ava doesn't seem to care, and stares daggers at the booth even when the woman isn't looking. After a few customers order candy and sodas, it’s our turn to step up.
The woman behind the counter is more teenager than woman. She looks like she's probably seventeen, maybe eighteen at best. Definitely a teenager, and definitely not a threat. However, it doesn't matter to Ava.
The moment we step up to the counter, Ava looks tense. Her face is tight, and she is now directing the glare she was giving to the ticket booth at the young blonde in front of us.
“Hi. What can I get for you?” the worker says, her blue eyes peering up at me.
“Hi, let me get a large popcorn with extra butter,” I tell her. I choose to ignore the way Ava is gawking at the kid. “Let me get some Twizzlers, too. Ava, do you want something to drink?”
My eyes turn to Ava, who is still staring at the concession worker. The blonde notices, and now stares at Ava with a frustrated look on her face. It doesn't matter if you even know why it’s happening—no one likes to be stared at, so I’m not surprised when the teenager behind the counter shows some attitude.
“Ava,” I say again, but it’s too late to stop whatever has started.
“Uhh, yeah, I know exactly what I want,” Ava finally says, but from the tone and volume of her voice, I know what she wants has nothing to do with movie theater snacks. “What I want, is for this fucking cunt to stop staring at my man like she's ready to drop down and suck some dick right here at the concession stand. That’s what I fucking want, bitch!”
Chapter Fourteen
~ Malcolm ~
“What the fuck?” the blonde teenager replies, her face twisting into a shocked scowl of surprise and fury.
“Don't play dumb, bitch. I see you,” Ava barks, drawing the attention of every single person in the room now. All eyes are on us. “I’m standing right here in front of you, and you're going to stare at my man like I don't even exist. I will fucking beat the shit out of you right here in front of everybody.”
“What are you talking about?” the concession worker shouts. I can tell she doesn't want the drama, but when someone brings it to you with such aggression and volume, it’s hard to stay composed.
“I saw you, you dumb bitch,” Ava shouts again. Ava’s skin is turning red as she literally heats up like a bomb exploding in slow motion.
“You didn't see me do anything, you psycho,” the worker responds, just as the manager on shift comes out of the back with her hands up, wondering what the hell is going on.
“Umm, what's the problem?” the young black woman says. By now, the entire room is wondering the same thing, including me.
“Oh, you wanna get involved in this?” Ava bellows, pointing at the manager. “This dumb bitch is hitting on my man, and if you're about to come out here and defend her, then me and you will have a problem, too.”
“Ava, what the fuck are you doing?” I ask, but when I see Ava’s face, I can tell she’s seeing red. She has a scowl I’ve never seen on her before. I barely even recognize her.
“Miss, if you could just calm down, and maybe not make a scene,” the manager pleads in a peaceful tone. “It seems to be just a misunderstanding. I’ll even comp you your popcorn for free. Let’s just not escalate things unnecessarily, please.”
“Don't tell me to calm down!” Ava screams, slamming her fist on the counter. “I don't want your fucking popcorn. I want this bitch to be more respectful, because I swear to God, I will burn this whole building to the ground over my man. You hear me, you whore? I wouldn't care if I had to burn it down with both of us still inside so he could get away from you, I’d do it. I'd kill us both before I let you have him.”
Everybody within earshot lets out an audible gasp, and I’m suddenly reminded of some of the things I learned about Ava when she was my patient. I remember the shock I felt when she told me her ex-boyfriend’s porch had been set on fire. She claimed she didn't do it, but it was obvious to me that she had. Her ex ended up moving away because of how intense Ava’s fixation on him had become.
“Ava, what the fuck?” I growl, razors in each word. “You can't say shit like that.”
“Miss, I’m afraid I’m going to have to call the police,” the manager says, just as she places a hand on the shoulder of the blonde concession worker, pulling her away from the counter like a protective mother. “This is getting out of hand, and you've made a direct threat against the