Saliva sputtered from my lips when I said, “No way. I’m finding Derek.”
“You don’t even ask how I got up here?” He folded his arms, refusing to move out of my way. “People are dying. I managed to make a run for it. I’m lucky to be alive.”
“Well you are. And we’re going to make sure my boyfriend is, too.”
“Shh. Someone might hear you,” he said, but he said it sarcastically. When I narrowed my eyes, he said, “Come on. You can’t find Derek, because then I have to help you find Derek.”
“Yeah? Why’s that? Because you love me?”
Everyone at the theater thought we were an item. He was asexual, but our ignorant coworkers didn’t consider it a real sexuality, so we’d flirt every once in a while to keep the rumors going. It helped keep them off of the trail of me and Derek.
Tyler rolled his eyes, but then his frightened face softened. “You know I’d never let my girl die.”
The storage room mostly held mustard packets, napkins, and plastic forks, but it also held a stash of high class box cutters. There was a running joke about the things. Everyone made fun of the fact that we couldn’t afford new wallpaper for the bathroom or a working ketchup dispenser for the concession stand, but we had of stash of grade A silver box cutters. No wonder we made minimum wage.