Oozing Chemistry

17th Thing's 17th

After watching Ray surf through photos for his job and listening to Carlos go off about a dead chef's tragic incident and French dip, I really need something to pick me up. Reggie seems a little bit happier, and Alex not at all. Julie or Luke, I haven't seen them all day, and neither have the boys.

Currently, Reggie and I were up in Carlos' room. Reggie likes using his laptop and checking out rock 'n' roll websites. He's quite amazed by the Internet, and I'm quite amused. At least he figured out how to use it. We struggled day one, couldn't find the power button.

"Woah," Reggie breathes, his eyes glazed over by the white light emanating from the screen. "There's a Star Wars movie marathon at some movie theater nearby."

I peer over his shoulder, and sure enough, there's a little advertisement box in the corner about it. "Cool."

"Cool?" he repeats, slightly upset. "Don't you mean amaze-tacular? Can we go? Please, please, pleeeeease?" I shrug, still feeling numb from last night. I don't know how he can be so positive when everything around us is drenched in darkness. "You don't want me to cross over sad, do you?"

"I don't want you to cross over at all," I mutter, but he manages to hear it.

"Come on, it'll be fun," he urges, grabbing my hands in his, a contagious smile forming on his lips. "Like a date."

"A what?"

"What?" The two of us stare at each other skeptically before he says, "Please? Do me one last favor. I need to see who this Jar Jar person is."

Turns out, the theater is actually really close, but unfortunately, we missed Episodes 4, 5, and 6. Also unfortunately, those are Reggie's favorite and the only ones that existed when we died.

Upon reaching the theater, which I insisted we walk to since no, thank you, tingles, Reggie spends a good five minutes drooling over the butter machine and sticking his head into random people's popcorn baskets like a chicken pecking pieces of bread. To say I'm amused is a major understatement. The desperation on his face for actual food just makes it that much more hilarious.

And to add to that, I walk through the counter, concentrate as hard as I can, and pick up a popcorn bowl, shoveling as much as I can into it and drenching it in butter. For myself, I grab some Whoppers malt balls and Xtreme sour Airhead bites. Yum. I love anything sour, except when I can't feel my tongue for two days after. But it's so worth it!

Maybe I can't enjoy that now, but who's going to stop me? I may be dead and unable to eat, but death to whomever denies me heaven in the form of Airhead bites.

We easily walk past the usher checking for tickets, successfully receiving many, many stares. What? No one's seen floating popcorn before? 

Reggie and I sit all the way in the back and get settled. As the lights dim again, he takes a handful of buttered popcorn and sticks it into his mouth, or rather through his mouth because it falls right through him onto his seat. 

I laugh, the pout on his face literally the cutest thing I've ever seen. 

"Times like these make me want to go to Caleb's club. It may suck, but at least we can eat there," Reggie frowns, and a thick layer of tension suddenly blankets the atmosphere. I slouch over, not very interested in the movie anymore, and rest my head in my hand, leaning on the armrest. "I'm sorry, I didn't... I didn't mean it like that... You know I'd... We'd never leave you or Julie."

"Yeah," I say, mostly to break the silence.

"Plus, if I was gone," he nudges me and smiles slightly, "who'd make sure you owned that awesomeness?"