Page 135 of Puck Me Back to Life

“I don't like how excited you are.”

“I know.”

“I think you're enjoying my suffering.”

“I absolutely am.”

I sigh loudly enough that the teenage employee behind the ticket counter looks up from his phone.

Ash buys our tickets before I can offer. Then popcorn. Then two drinks.

By the time I realize what's happening, he's already carrying everything toward Theater Three.

“Is this the punishment?”

“You wish.”

I glance sideways.

He shakes his head. “This is just entertainment.”

“That somehow makes me more nervous.”

Ash laughs as he pushes open the theater door.

The room is completely empty. Not mostly empty. Empty. The giant screen glows with pre-show advertisements while rows upon rows of seats stretch into darkness.

I look around. “Where is everyone?”

“It's eleven-thirty on a Wednesday.”

“Oh.”

“Most people have jobs, ya know?”

“I have a job.”

“Yeah, but we're skipping it.”

“Right.”

Ash chooses seats almost exactly in the middle of the theater. Perfect viewing distance. Unfortunately. I settle into the reclining chair beside him while he places the popcorn between us. “This is creepy already.”

“The lights are still on.” Ash chuckles. “You look worried.”

“I'm assessing my escape routes.”

He laughs. “You'll be fine.”

“You don't know that.”

“I do.”

“How?”

“Because you're with me and because ghosts aren't real.”

The simple confidence in his voice settles something restless inside me before I have time to question why. The lights dim. Movie trailers begin. Most of them are for other horror films.