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"Maybe."
"I promise you won't get eaten by sharks."
"Can you r
eally promise that?"
"Yeah. They'll eat me. I'll be the one in the water."
"So I'll have to watch you die?"
"Worst case scenario."
I stare back at him, trying to figure out if he's joking.
He presses his palm to my cheek. "Shit. You're really freaking."
I nod.
His voice gets soft. "There hasn't been a shark attack here in forever. It's safe. But if you're scared—"
"No. I want to." I'm tired of being scared. I'm tired of the comfortable numb. I need to actually live my life instead of trying to get through every day for the sake of adding another twenty-four hours of sobriety to my calendar.
"What about movies without sharks?"
"I used to love them."
"And now?"
"Not as much."
"You get old. Lose the magic."
"Maybe."
"You want it back?"
I arch a brow. "Does this involve coming in a movie theater."
"Fuck, that's a good idea." He presses his forehead to mine. "But no."
"Really?"
He nods. "Blade Runner is playing at the Nuart at midnight Friday. Come with me."
"Blade Runner?"
"Don't tell me you haven't heard of it. Iris, it's a classic."
"No." I have. A lot. "I was just thinking that my dad would like you."
"You sure?" He motions to his full sleeve.
"Even so."
"That a good thing?"
"I don't know. He liked Ross. But Ross was an asshole. Just the kind of asshole parents like."
