Chapter 18 Theo #2
“You good?” he asked, glancing over once they hit a red light.
She was looking up at the skyscrapers above them. “I am.”
“You sure?”
Maya nodded slowly. “I’m better than I thought I’d be. You’re very…” Her eyes flicked over him. “Intentional.”
Theo laughed under his breath. “Is that a compliment?”
“It’s dangerous. I’m not used to guys… planning things out. But I like it.”
“I’m happy to oblige,” he said, turning the music up slightly. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to plan a—”
He wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence without sounding presumptuous.
Maya chuckled. “A date?”
Theo glanced at her. “That’s what I’d call it, but I didn’t want to speak for you.”
“Thank you for planning this date.”
“You’re welcome,” he said with a grin.
When they pulled up outside The Music Box, Theo was relieved to see that the marquee glowed: HALLOWEEN—1978
The neon sign flickered against the stone facade. A small line was already forming out front.
Maya’s eyebrows lifted. “You really bought tickets to this ahead of time?”
Theo killed the engine. “Weeks ago. It’s one of my favorite screenings of the year.”
“You knew I’d say yes?”
He shrugged. “I hoped.”
They stepped out. He offered his hand, not thinking, just… needing the contact. She took it without hesitation, warm fingers curling into his.
The inside of The Music Box felt like stepping into another decade: gold trim, velvet curtains, murals so faded they looked dreamt, not painted. Maya looked around slowly, lips parted just slightly, like she wasn’t expecting it to feel this magical.
Theo clocked that reaction and tried not to smile like a fool.
They took their seats about halfway back, close enough for a good view, far enough for any smooching to go unnoticed. The popcorn tub sat between them. Theo’s thigh brushed hers once, and he didn’t shift away.
The house lights dimmed. The organ music cut. A single reel of vintage trailers rolled, bad grain, cheesy taglines, jump cuts galore.
And then the screen went black.
The first synth note of Halloween hit like a pulse.
Theo whispered, “This was John Carpenter’s third film. He scored it himself in like three days.”
Maya glanced at him, unimpressed. “You’re not gonna do this the whole time, are you?”
“I’ll ration it.”
Ten minutes later: “This was Jamie Lee Curtis’s first film. Her mom played the shower victim in Psycho.”
She groaned, but she was smiling. “Okay, that’s actually a good one.”
Twenty minutes in: “I don’t know if you noticed, but this was filmed in California, not Illinois. Also, they shot this in spring, so those leaves are fake.”
“You are incorrigible,” she whispered.
But when he went quiet, she leaned a little closer. “You stop talking?”
“I thought I’d give you a break.”
“I didn’t say stop.”
Theo’s heart knocked once, hard. He turned his head toward her, but she was already watching the screen again, her expression unreadable except for the slight curve of her mouth.
Halfway through, during a jump scare, she grabbed his arm. Not dramatic, just a sudden, automatic squeeze.
“Now, why is this bitch running upstairs?” she muttered under her breath.
She didn’t let go.
And Theo didn’t move.
When Michael tore through the slatted closet door to attack Laurie, Maya squealed and buried her face in his shoulder.
A slow grin crept across his face.
By the time the credits rolled, she still hadn’t moved away.
They stepped out into the night air, the marquee buzzing faintly behind them, streetlights haloed in fog and lake mist. The crowd spilled onto the sidewalk in clusters, still talking, still wired.
Maya took a deep breath and stretched her shoulders. “Okay. I get it.”
He raised a brow. “Get what?”
“Why this movie’s your holy text.”
He grinned. “You didn’t walk out. That’s a win.”
She smirked. “Please. I saw it for the first time at a sleepover when I was nine. Someone’s older cousin brought the VHS and told us it was banned in most states.”
Theo laughed. “Was it?”
“Of course not. But we believed her. I watched it through my fingers and pretended I wasn’t scared. Got nightmares for a week.”
“That sounds about right.”
She glanced over at him, eyes sharp in the glow of the streetlamp. “It hit different tonight, though.”
He tilted his head. “How so?”
Maya looked at him for a beat too long. Then shrugged.
“Maybe I just liked who I was watching it with.”
Theo didn’t answer right away.
Then he reached up, slow and sure, and tucked a curl behind her ear. His fingers lingered at her jaw, grazing skin he already knew. But here, under the marquee and city glow, it felt new again.
Maya didn’t lean back.
She just looked up at him like she already knew what he was about to do.
And when he kissed her, it was unhurried. Like they had time. Like they’d earned it.
Soft at first. Just the press of mouths, the heat of breath shared between them. Then deeper, with the faintest sound of her sigh slipping into his mouth, and his hand slipping to her waist.
By the time they broke apart, her lipstick had smudged and his heart was going way too fast for someone trying to act chill.
Maya blinked up at him, lips parted. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For tonight. I didn’t know how much I needed it.”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Of course.”
She smiled. “It was perfect.”
He took her hand and led her to his car. “I mean… haunted death tours are kind of my specialty.”
Her laugh was quiet. “Then I guess I’m in good hands.”
“Always,” he said, hoping he sounded chill.