Chapter 10 #2
“Then consider this a request for your next video.” I settle next to him, and he scoots closer so our shoulders are practically touching. His clean scent fills my senses as he positions the phone in front of us.
Before he can load up one of his draft videos, his queue begins to autoplay.
A pretty girl with tan skin and brown hair striped with caramel highlights fades onto the screen. She’s holding one of those tiny microphones, and in a singsongy voice she says, “Welcome to another episode of Issy Will Cook Anything.”
“Shit, sorry.” Theo lifts his hand to swipe the video away.
Without thinking, I grab his fingers. “No, wait. I love this channel, and it looks like she’s back at Fableland.”
Theo lights up. “Same. The food stuff is great, obviously. But she’s also really good at editing and content. I took a lot of inspiration from her when I was starting Mr. FixIt.”
As we go quiet, I realize we’re both staring at our joined hands. Because I haven’t let go. And I’m gripping his fingers like I’m a villain in a Liam Neeson movie and he’s going to have to use his particular set of skills to get the hostages released.
Fighting back a mortified moan, I shove my hand behind my back. Every part of me that was touching Theo tingles like there are little fireworks under my skin. I rub my palm against my back like that will stop the sensation.
Suddenly, we’re both very invested in this video. If only I could hear it over my galloping pulse.
On the screen, Issy explains that her BFF, Lia—who works in the storytelling department at Fableland—has been keeping a list of all the new food Issy needs to try.
“But first, say hi to Lia and her boyfriend, Mason! You may remember them from last year’s content, when they were competing in the fiftieth-anniversary scavenger hunt.
” Issy waves off-screen until a dark-haired plus-size girl with bright blue eyes and a tall, absurdly attractive guy with eyes that look like a stormy sky move into the shot behind her.
“Lia, tell us what you’ve been up to in the storytelling department! ” Issy points the mic at her friend.
Lia smiles. “Honestly, it’s a dream come true.
I have my first concept moving to production in a few weeks, about a plus-size princess with a secret identity.
So keep an eye out for news about Caelyssa Whitepetal and the Wings of Light.
” The girl glances up at Mason, who’s standing beside her with an arm resting over her shoulder.
There’s so much affection in their faces that it steals my breath for a second.
I’ve never had that before. I’m too afraid to get hurt. Too afraid that no one could ever feel that way about the weird girl.
“And Mason kicked ass at his first year of college,” Lia continues, her face beaming with pride. Mason shrugs, but there’s a huge grin on his face when he kisses the top of her head.
Issy squeals. “You two crazy kids are my favorite love story. But now tell me about the food.”
On the side of the screen, messages from viewers during the live stream scroll by. Someone named Tess writes, in all capital letters: KISS YOU FOOLS. .
Then she adds an eggplant for good measure.
“If that was my friend, I would die,” I mutter.
Theo chuckles. “She seems like a good time.”
“Have you ever been to Fableland?”
He cuts his eyes to me. “Once when I was a kid. But I was too young to care about anything but seeing Dudley the Raccoon.” He pauses the video after Issy’s first segment, on s’mores sundaes. “I bet it would be cool to go back now for the rides and stuff.”
“Yeah. I was obsessed with Fable Industry’s movies as a kid, but we never made it out there.” Taylor and I have been saving up to visit Fableland II, the new San Diego–based park, since they announced it earlier this year. I hope this move doesn’t destroy that plan too.
“That park has got to be super haunted. Even you can’t deny that.” His grin is all trouble.
I roll my head back and groan. “Weren’t we checking out one of your dad’s videos?”
He snorts.
As he pokes around the screen to load it up, his arm bumps mine. Then stays there. I don’t know if he notices, but it’s all I can focus on. His warm skin. His distractingly solid biceps. The way his scent surrounds me like a well-wrapped gift.
I do a full cycle of my nervous fidgets: straighten the hem of my shorts, push my glasses up the bridge of my nose, brush a finger over my mirror tattoo. The movements jostle us, but Theo only presses in closer as he cues up the video.
“I tried out new graphics and effects for this one,” he explains. We watch the two-minute video in silence, but I see the way pride straightens his posture with every sound of approval I make.
“You’re really good at this,” I muse as it ends.
“I’m trying so hard to show him why letting me focus on marketing and customer service will help.
I’m double-majoring in marketing and business at RC next year.
I spend a ton of time studying social media and analytics.
The ghost hunting videos are as much to inform the public about the existence of ghosts—” He jerks his head toward me and points a finger. “I don’t want to hear it.”
I take that chance to step a respectable distance away. It feels like the only way I will be able to take an actual breath into my lungs. Once I do, I hold up my hands in surrender.
“But I also do those videos to practice editing. I was pretty terrible when I started out.”
I snort. “Yeah, I know.”
His eyes widen for a second, then he lets out an exasperated sigh. “What about you?”
“I know nothing about making videos.”
He laughs. “No. What are your big plans? You know, if you have any yet.”
It’s nonjudgmental, and I like that he tacks it on at the end. Like he doesn’t want to alienate me if I don’t know.
“I’m going to be an archivist.”
His brow furrows.
“And no, that’s not what Indiana Jones does.”
“I know what an archivist is.” He shakes his head.
“Do you know how much time I spend in the archives at RC? They have all the original papers and letters and journals from Harlow’s Rest.” Theo takes me in.
I want to run screaming from the room under the weight of his gaze.
What is he looking for? What is he seeing?
My fingers wander back to my tattoo.
He sighs. “How can you love history and old documents and not believe in ghosts?”
“Because one of them is very real, and the other is…not.”
“But history is full of unexplainable events. Things that we can’t fully find answers for. Like Roanoke.”
“But”—I fold my arms—“that’s what archival documents do.
They fill in those gaps. They give us paths to answers.
Like you being able to look at Mercy’s diaries to get a sense of who she was and why she was spending all that time in the woods.
” Even if it did lead him to conclude that the well contained some evil spirit, instead of a million rational explanations.
“I’m going to change your mind.” His moss-colored eyes are full of steely determination, and the certainty in his voice does something to my insides I refuse to acknowledge.
I cock my head, attempting to mimic his confidence. “Not if I change yours first.”