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He laughed. “Yes, so let’s get smashed and forget you nearly killed me today trying.”
* * *
Haven brought her cup to her lips and took a sip of the sweet fruity drink. The alcohol taste lingered in the background, not so bad that it hindered the taste. “This is good. What is it?”
“Sweet-Tart. You know—orange soda, Kool-Aid, and Everclear.” Haven didn’t know, but she liked it anyway. She took another sip as Carmine grabbed his bottle of liquor and took a drink. He was shirtless, and Haven was captivated by the way his stomach muscles grew taut as his body quivered. His calloused hand scratched the scar on his side, his long fingers transfixing Haven.
He crouched down to look under the bed and dug out the shoeboxes, glancing inside before shoving them back under. He found what he was looking for and pulled out a gray game console and a controller, wordlessly hooking it up to his television.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Classic Nintendo,” he said.
“And you’re going to play it?”
“We are,” he corrected her, blowing into a game before sliding it in the console. “Or we’re certainly going to try.”
He turned it on. The game started right away as he sat on the floor, stretching out his legs and patting the space between them. She sat down between his legs, and he held the controller in front of her to explain the buttons. She watched as he navigated the first board.
“Mario’s a rite of passage. You’re nobody until you’ve conquered it.” His tone was serious, yet youthful and innocent. It made her smile. “Here, finish this part.”
She took the controller. “But what if I kill him? He can die, right?”
“He comes back to life. It’s not like we’ll have to plan a funeral.”
It took her three tries to get the coordination to jump him over things. Carmine grabbed their drinks and sat back down, pulling her body against his chest.
The next few hours passed as they fell into a cycle. She’d kill the character, and Carmine would complete a level so she could try the next one. Haven could feel the alcohol in her system, her limbs tingly and head foggy. She found it nice, the two of them doing something so childish and carefree. He was giving her parts of a life she’d missed out on.
She was playing a board with a bunch of turtles when Carmine nuzzled into her neck. Distracted, she ran the character right off a ledge and tossed the controller down in frustration.
“Does my drinking bother you?” Carmine asked, taking a swig from the bottle of vodka.
“You don’t drink enough for it to,” she said. “You aren’t a mean drunk like Master Michael.”
“I’d like to kill that guy,” Carmine said. “You don’t know how bad I want him to suffer.”
She shook her head. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not? You can’t seriously care about him.”
“No, but I do care about you. I don’t want you to hurt people. I don’t want you to be a killer.”
Carmine pulled her back to him tighter, kissing the top of her head. “You know, I never knew what I wanted out of life. Going to Chicago always made the most sense, but now that I have you in my life, I’m starting to see it differently. What you want matters, so if you don’t want me to do that shit, then I have to really think about it. It’ll be your life, too, and you mean a lot more to me than any of them.”
She smiled as his words washed through her.
Carmine took the game apart and put it back into the box.
“I wondered what was in those,” she said. “I worried it was just more porn.”
o;Uh, if the light’s yellow, speed up to get through it before it turns red. I hate waiting.”
“Okay.”
“All right then, baby. Put this bitch in reverse and back up.”
She grabbed the gearshift, putting it in reverse, and took a deep breath before hitting the gas. The car jolted backward as she whipped it around, running up on the sidewalk. She slammed the brake hard, and they stopped abruptly. Carmine clutched his seat. “Christ, I said hit the gas, not floor it. Just press lightly.”
