“Worth every step.” Ruby grabbed the remote. “Movie?”
“What kind?”
“I’m not sure,” Ruby scrolled through options. “Oh! This one's supposed to be terrible. Perfect.”
They changed into pajamas and curled up together on the bed, a tray of fruit between them. The movie was indeed terrible, something about educated pirates that made absolutely no sense.
“Okay, hold on,” Ruby said fifteen minutes in. “So the pirate captain needs a specific compass that's also a magical artifact? This is the most convoluted time travel system I've ever seen.”
Celeste was already laughing. “Maybe it'll make sense later.”
“It absolutely will not. Also, why is the parrot wearing a tiny eye patch? Did the parrot earn that eye patch through honorable pirate combat?”
“I think the parrot is just decorative.”
“Decorative? That parrot has an eye patch and an attitude. That parrot has seen things. I'm calling it now—the parrot is the real villain.”
Twenty minutes later, when the parrot screeched and knocked over a lantern that started a fire, Ruby sat up triumphantly. “Called it! The parrot is chaos incarnate!”
“You're ridiculous,” Celeste said. A huge smile spread on her face.
“I'm being factual. There's a difference.” Ruby grabbed a grape from the tray. “Also, can we talk about how the love interest's hair stays perfect even though she's been on a pirate ship for three months? That's the real fantasy here.”
“Maybe pirate ships have really good hair products.”
“Pirate ships barely have soap. Trust me, I looked this up once for a painting. And now they're sword fighting in a thunderstorm because of course they are. Very safe and logical.”
“You're supposed to suspend disbelief.”
“I've suspended all the disbelief I can suspend. My disbelief is exhausted. It needs a vacation.”
Celeste dissolved into laughter, pressing her face into Ruby's shoulder. “Stop. I can't breathe.”
“Never. I will critique terrible movies until my dying breath.” Ruby scrunched her face as the parrot reappeared. “Look at him. Look at that smug little face. He knows what he did.”
They made it through the rest of the movie, Ruby providing increasingly absurd theories about the plot until Celeste was crying with laughter. When the credits finally rolled, they were both exhausted from giggling.
“That was the worst movie I've ever seen,” Celeste said.
“And yet, somehow, the best movie night.” Ruby settled back against the pillows. “Tell me something. What were you like as a kid?”
“I was always so serious. My siblings used to joke that I was born middle-aged.”
“I can't picture you as anything but serious.”
“I had my moments. Once I convinced Enzo that we could fly if we jumped off the roof with umbrellas. We both ended up in the ER.”
Ruby sat up. “You what?”
“I was six! And very into Peter Pan! My mother was furious. My father just looked at me and said 'Celeste, you're supposed to be the smart one.'”
“That's amazing. Tell me more.”
And so she did, narrating a story about the time she had stayed up for three days straight studying for finals and hallucinated that her textbook was singing to her, which amused Ruby greatly.
“I need to hear about the twins though,” Ruby said eventually. “What was it like, when they were born?”
Celeste's expression softened immediately. “Terrifying, but also magical. I went into labor three weeks early. Braden was at the hospital for a thirty-six hour shift. By the time he got there, I was already at six centimeters and swearing I was going to kill him for this.”
