"Shit…I'm so sorry," Marise said, leaning forward with two serviettes. "I wasn’t watching where I…here, let me?—"
Ted laughed, reaching back to take the serviettes from her hand. "No, no, it’s okay. I’ll fix it.”
His friend snorted beside him. "Bet the Blob would clean that up faster than you."
Marise grinned. "In this version, it’d take its time and traumatize a teenager."
Ted turned fully around, grinning through damp curls. "Seen it before?"
"Too many times," she said. "It’s tradition. Red wine, sarcasm, and Steve McQueen being a teenager."
His friend leaned in. "You had me at sarcasm."
Ted extended a hand. "I’m Ted. This is Simon."
"Cass," she said, slipping into her alias without a blink. "Cass Mullins."
Simon offered a salute. "Welcome to the Church of Bad Science and Gelatinous Monsters."
When the opening titles flickered to life on the screen, a cheer rippled through the audience. The lights dimmed, and the blob began its slow, ridiculous oozing across a matte painting of Pennsylvania.
They fell into a rhythm of whispered commentary. Simon muttered about the blob’s unrealistic physics while Ted quoted entire lines under his breath. Marise slipped in wry observations that made them both snort. Every few minutes, Ted half-turned to glance at her, his smile easy and open.
When the monster enveloped a diner in stop-motion fury, Simon whispered, "Now that's how you deal with a health code violation."
Marise gave a little chuckle.
Ted elbowed him. "You’re gonna get us kicked out."
"Me? She started it with the coke baptism."
A voice from behind hissed, "Quiet."
"Sorry," Marise whispered.
"Apologies," Ted added. Then, under his breath, "Blob's got nothing on her death glare."
They giggled like kids, shoulders shaking.
When the credits finally rolled, the theatre erupted in scattered applause. People stood, stretching and shuffling. Ted turned to Marise, and grinned. "There's a pub across the road. You up for a drink? You kind of owe me one."
She raised an eyebrow. "For what? Washing your hair?"
Simon grinned. "Come on, Cass. You'll fit right in."
Marise hesitated long enough to appear unsure, then smiled. "Sure. Why not. I was only going home. First drinks are on me."
They filed out into the night, laughter trailing behind them as they crossed the street.
The pub was dim and warm, crowded but cozy, with wooden furniture and chalkboard menus. They found a table and ordered drinks and a plate of fries.
"So, what do you do, Cass?" Simon asked, sipping his beer.
"Freelance editor," she said without hesitation. "Mostly science stuff. Reports, whitepapers. My brother is in energy, and I kind of fell sideways into it."
Ted perked up. "No kidding? What kind of science?"
"Whatever pays," she said, then smiled. "But I read a lot about environmental systems. Biomimicry. Stuff like that."
