She is beautiful, but you can tell she has no idea.
Except, maybe, when she walks to get popcorn with her friend, she ads a little extra pop in her hips, like she knows I'm watching.
Her long, curly, brown hair hits the top of her tank top and just pools there in a curly mass of highlights and summer memories.
She leans over and listens to something her friend says and they giggle.
She looks over her shoulder and sees if anyone is watching. I quickly look down at my phone so she won't catch me staring.
I notice how tan her shoulders are against her white tank top. She has spent a lot of time at the pool this summer.
She sits up straight and tall. She looks so graceful and collected like she is keenly aware of the placement of her right ankle over her left and her hands clasped in her lap.
I wonder what she is thinking about as she stares ahead at the movie.
I wonder if she is thinking about her sister and remembering the last time they watched this movie together on their fluffy chairs inside a tent set up in her bedroom.
Or when they put a leash on a stuffed blue bird and pulled "Kevin" around the backyard until they got to the treehouse version of Paradise Falls, where they collapsed in a tangled pile of squealing laughter.
I wonder if she is thinking about me and remembering the time she looked at me with tears in her eyes during the part where Ellie dies and Carl has to carry on without her, and said, "This movie is too sad, Mom" and I replied, "I know baby, it is sad. But, I think it will be better in a minute."
I watch the girl from the back row.
An audience of one, watching a movie about a girl that is full of drama and comedy.
A movie that has a crazy cast of characters and a twisting plot.
A movie about growing up, falling in love and chasing your dreams.
A movie that is too sad, but, hopefully, will be better in a minute.