Dark hair tumbles out of his helmet in a tousled fashion; he shakes his hand through it and it falls back into place. His lip ring glints in the arcade’s neon glow, his smile warm and comforting.
His brown eyes find mine and butterflies erupt in my stomach.
“Here we are!” He holds his arms out.
I shake out my own hair as Luca takes my helmet from me.
“You brought me to an arcade?” I smile over at him.
“With mini golf and laser tag.” Luca smiles, taking my hand.
“I’ve never been to one of these places before. I’ve always wanted to go!” I squeeze his hand. I can’t help the little extra pep in my step.
He stops in his tracks, the lack of momentum pulling me back.
“What’s wrong?” I look back at him as he stares back at me with wide eyes.
“You’ve never been to an arcade or played mini golf?” His shoulders slump a bit.
“No.” I take a step closer. “Don’t be sad for me, I’m happy I get to experience it with you.”
His eyes search mine, he must see the truth in them as his signature smile returns to his face.
“Glad I get to pop your arcade cherry!” He winks.
I throw my head back laughing as he pulls me forward and we head inside.
Luca fills a bucket full of tokens and we head to the skeeball machines, all lined up in a neat row. Long ramps leading to bright glowing rings. The scoreboard flickers red and blue, buzzing lightly overhead. Luca handsme some tokens and I push them into the machine, the lights and music starting up.
“I bet you I can get a higher score than you.” I poke his side.
“Oh, you’re on, Ashthorne.”
I grab the first ball, aim and throw. Luca hip bumps me and my ball misses the top ring.
I gasp and nudge him playfully.
“Playing dirty, Silvain!”
He laughs and it’s the happiest sound. I run around and steal one of his balls, quickly throwing it into my machine.
“Hey!” Luca laughs, enacting swift revenge. Grabbing from both mine and his machine. I’m laughing so hard I can hardly stand.
The air hockeytable hisses to life the moment Luca slides the last token in, the surface glowing blue beneath us. A cool breeze lifts from the perforated surface, brushing my fingertips as I take hold of the striker.
Luca spins the puck on its edge like a coin.
“Try not to cry when I destroy you again.” He smiles mischievously.
“You cheated! You can’t cheat now!”
The puck drops and the chaos begins,
He hits the first shot so fast I barely see it, just a blur and a crack against the side of my striker.
“Seriously?” I yelp, half laughing.
“It’s called skill, sweetheart,” he says, leaning over the table like he’s posing for a magazine.
