“That,” Halle cuts in, bringing the attention back to her, “was for surprising me, you idiot. I hate surprises.”
Asher steps up behind her, hands raised. “I told you?—”
“And you,” she snaps, spinning and punching him in the arm, “were in on it. Knowing I hate surprises.”
“Yeah, but I’m making up for it with burgers and milkshakes and?—”
“Do not finish that in front of my brother and nephew,” she cuts in, shooting him an eye roll.
Tessa bounces on her toes, clapping her hands together. “If we’re about done here, can we please go have some fun now? I haven’t been to an arcade in years.”
“Car, car, car,” Remi chants, pointing to the row of race cars.
“Come on, buddy, I’ll race ya.” Connor laughs, taking off with him.
Sarah, Tessa, and Jace chase after them in a blur of chaos and laughter, leaving me with Halle, Asher, and Madi.
“So,” I nudge Halle’s shoulder, “what do you want to do first?”
Her eyes ping around the arcade, and the air around us shifts to something thrilling, something nostalgic. Only this time, there are no rules, no curfews, no one to be scared of back home. It’s just us, our people, and all the lights, noise, and games to lose ourselves in.
“Everything,” she says, a huge smile lighting up her whole damn face. “I want to play every single game.”
The edge of panic loosens in my chest, and I release a long breath. Halle grabs Madison’s hand, and they take off toward the glow of the arcade floor, weaving through kids and parents. Lights strobe across their faces—pink, blue, yellow—catching their wide smiles as they point at games and claw machines all around them. Watching Halle like this hits me harder than I expected. She’s finally free. Finally happy.
“You did good, my man. She’s lucky to have you as her brother,” Asher says, clapping a hand on my shoulder.
I shove him off me, smiling. “Ten bucks says I beat you at the basketball hoops.”
“Oh, you’re on.” He laughs, sprinting ahead.
A lady behind the counter hands me our stack of prepaid cards, and I quickly chase after everyone, handing each of them out. The basketball hoops glow ahead, and I dodge a teen who barrels past me with a fistful of tickets, shouting at his friend that he won. The air is alive with chaos. Buttons being hammered, coins clattering, laser zaps slicing through explosions from the shooter games sound all around me.
I reach Asher just in time to see him rolling his shoulders like he’s preparing to win a fight. He swings his arms, cracking his neck side to side like an idiot.
A laugh tears out of me. “You stretching because you’re scared I’m gonna kick your ass?” I ask, swiping the card through the machine.
The countdown flashes.
Three… Two… One…
“Loser also has to work the closing shift tomorrow night,” I call, snatching the first ball that drops down.
“Deal!” he fires back, grabbing his own ball as the clock starts.
We both start shooting, and my eyes flick between my hoop and Asher’s. Balls go flying, bouncing off the rims, rattling the chain baskets. Every time Asher sinks one, he lets out a grunt that’s half effort, half victory. Every time I sink one, I make sure he hears my smug, low “yes” over the noise.
A small crowd starts gathering, watching us as we sink, miss, and overshoot. Tessa and Jace are the first to push through, cheering obnoxiously loud.
“Come on, Hunter! Use those muscles,” Tessa yells.
Asher’s next ball hits the backboard and ricochets straight into my zone.
“Ash, man, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Jace calls to him, and Asher flips him off mid-shot without looking.
Sweat slides down my temple, and my arms burn, but I don’t stop. I keep firing, even when my biceps tremble. Grab, shoot, grab, shoot. Shot after shot, I sink.
By the time the timer blares, we’re both breathless and sweating. I look up and stare at the scoreboard. A slow smile tugs at my mouth as my number flashes one point higher.
