The whole thing exploded in flames.
“Let’s go!” Spencer leapt into the air, pumping her fist.
“I did it!” I cried out, matching her excitement.
Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her neck, letting her lift me off the ground as we hooted out our celebration. The sound of explosions — and my character dying — still rang out from the machine, but nothing else mattered. I’d won.
As she jumped for joy, Spencer lost her footing, stumbling toward the machine. She dropped my legs, lifting her arms just in time to stop herself from crushing me in the fall — caging me against the side of the machine in the process.
“I’m…” She froze halfway through her apology, her gaze lingering on my lips.
There was only an inch or two between us. It would be so easy to bridge the distance, to lose myself in the celebration…
But before I could decide what I wanted, Spencer pulled away.
My cheeks heated. “Sorry, did I?—?”
“No apology necessary, Bunny.” She gripped the back of her neck, craning to peer at the front door.
“You could have.” The words left my mouth before I could think better of them. They bubbled out even faster as Spencer furrowed her brow. “Kissed me, I mean. If you wanted to.”
Her eyebrows lifted just a touch before that cocky smile settled back onto her face. She lifted a hand to tuck a stray curlback behind my ear. “I know. But…I don’t want it like this. When it’s time, I want you to know what you want.”
She leaned closer, pressing her soft lips to my cheek. “And exactly how bad you want it.”
Based on her smug reaction, it was safe to bet my face had gone redder than my hair.
Spencer didn’t mind flustering me though. In fact, she seemed to thrive off of it.
While I stood a stuttering mess with my back pressed against the cabinet, she bounded back to the prize cabinet, speeding to get the last of it set up before the morning rush. “Let me know if those coins need a refill.”
I couldn’t catch a full breath: not when she was holding me, not when she left, not even as I zipped deeper into the tangle of machines.
Had I really almost kissed a girl? KissedSpencer?
My heart was pounding hard enough to block out my hearing. I wasn’t sure what had gotten into me, but it was clear that pushing off dealing with it wasn’t working. Craning my neck to check that Spencer was still at the counter, I raced to the back of the arcade until I found a far corner where she couldn’t see me.
I just need a minute to think. Or to not think. Fuck, I don’t know what I need.
Desperate for a distraction, or just something to do with my hands, I reached down into the bucket, sliding three coins into the Ms. Pacman machine in front of me.
From across the aisle, I could practically feel the retro Pacman machine giving me the side eye, but as far as I was concerned, he could fuck off. Men had caused me enough trouble already.
As the last token clicked into the bin, the machine started up with a chipper tune before Ms. Pacman and her ghostly pursuersspawned into the game. The rhythmic chirping was soothing as she slid through the aisle with her singular goal.
It was meditative, calming despite the adrenaline of the chase. It was an easy way to keep my mind off of Spencer’s lips.
I still couldn’t believe how soft they’d felt on my cheek. Each time I imagined it, some unknowable thrum of energy passed through me. Was it excitement? Dread? I should be relieved that she had pulled back — most guys wouldn’t have — but instead, I just felt suspended on an edge.
What am I doing here?
I was pulled from my thoughts by the sadboop, boop, boopof the game. Stuck in my spiralling thoughts, I’d let Ms. Pacman get stuck in a corner and caught by the ghosts. It happened again and again until I was forced to feed the machine more tokens.
But no matter how fast or how hard she ran, my little yellow avatar wasn’t able to outrun what was coming for her. Before I knew it, I was out of tokens, and no closer to the answers I sought.
And if running wasn’t going to help me, there was only one place left to go.
Tucking my tail, I scooped up the empty bucket and made my way toward the front of the shop, looking for Spencer. The sign on the glass door was now flipped to open, though there wasn’t any sight of patrons yet, and I had to try not to scoff.
