“Racetrack? What?” I asked. Lee pointed over to the mini racetrack where racers lined their go-kart style racers up. “I can’t even drive!” I objected as he ran around and opened my door, pulling me out into the sun.
“All the more reason for you to start learning here,” he said as he pulled me over to the line for the racetrack. “At least here there’s a speed limit no one can break, and everyone will be wearing seat belts and helmets,” he laughed, dragging me over to the line. “I can’t say that for the actual roads.”
We raced three times. All three, Lee beat me handily, but the last time only because he cheated. I just couldn’t seem to manage the logistics of shifting gears, steering and accelerating or braking at the same time. After my third loss we were both laughing so hard tears were dripping from the corners of my eyes. Lee tugged on my handand led me away from the families lined up in the summer sun, and into the dimly lit building.
As we walked through the doors it took my eyes a minute to adjust. Even though the place was spotless, I couldn’t help but smell the tang of decades-old stale cigarette smoke in the air from years of serving as a bar and bowling alley both. Lee told me Ohio had changed their laws years ago and forbidden smoking in any business, but I could almost see the haze of cigarette smoke hanging in the air by the bar or over the fluorescent lights above the pool tables.
We wandered around for a while until we found a large area next to the pool tables that said “Arcade”. My heart started to race. I’d loved arcades when I was little. My mom and I had spent hours playing old fashioned pinball games in one near our home.
“Okay if I…?” I inclined my head to the machine that exchanged money for tokens. Lee just grinned and nodded. I slipped a twenty from my wallet into the machine and heard the familiar whir as the machine took my money and the jangle of the tokens being dispensed. I gave a handful to Lee and walked down the aisle, my head spinning at the nostalgic conglomeration of old and new games.
After an hour or so of playing we got some food from the restaurant attached to the arcade. I watched in disgust as Lee took containers of mayonnaise and ketchup and mixed them together.
“What are you doing?” I asked in disgusted fascination. He swirled the concoction together, then began dipping his fries in it before eating them.
“Ewww…” I exclaimed.
“This? This is amazing! Haven’t you ever tried it?” he asked, reaching for another fry.
“Um, no, I haven’t,” I admitted.
“Then how can you say it’s gross? Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he warned.
“Fine,” I said, leaning my head back. “Hit me.” I said, opening my mouth wide.
Time seemed to slow as I saw Lee hesitate, a devilish grin playing at the corner of his mouth. Slowly he took the fattest fry on his plate,coating it thoroughly with his devil’s mixture, then dangled it over my open mouth. I laughed when a big drip of sauce slid off the fry and landed on my face.
“Oops,” he said, winking at me. “I made a mess. Let me get that for you…” He headed towards me, his lips barely grazing my own, his tongue swiping out over my cheek to lick up the drippy concoction.
“Mmmm… Tasty…” He said, waggling his eyebrows at me. As he leaned back, he dropped the fry into my still-open mouth.
I felt my cheeks redden, and my mouth automatically closed and started chewing. It took me a minute to realize the mixture was really good, especially with the salty fries.
“Not bad,” I agreed. Feeling my cheeks heat up.
17
Lee
We stayedin that arcade for hours and it was one of the best dates I’d ever had. We were both thoroughly tired out by the time I got a text from Mama K inviting us to come over for dinner with them.
MAMA K: CHALLENGE DELIVERED! You & I against D and Mason. It’s Scrabble night at the Devereaux den! You in?
ME: Let me check with Mason…I don’t know how much my crazy family he can take in one week.
MAMA D: Well, if I he’s too scared, we understand…
I groaned and shared the text with Mason. He nodded eagerly.
“Sure! Sounds like a lot of fun,” he said, grinning at me.
“Wait a minute,” I paused in confusion. “You know I said ‘Scrabble’ right? Scrabble is not fun. Scrabble is torture. Scrabble is aggravating and mind-numbing. Scrabble is not ‘fun’.”
“I’m a writerandartist, Lee.Ithink Scrabbleisfun. The only game more fun for me would probably be Pictionary.” He grinned at me. “Did you know I used to play competitively in college?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at me.
“Bullshit,” I called, eyeing him critically as I drove.
“No bullshit. I won the Word Boy of the Month award my senioryear in college,” he chuckled. “Okay, maybe it was just our apartment building, and the only ones I ever really played against were Everett and Lizzie. After I beat her like, ten times in a row, I made her make me a tinfoil crown that had ‘Word Boy of February’ on it. She’s got pictures, I can have her send them to you If you need proof…”
