Alfred's legs pumped the pedals furiously as he struggled to make it to the crest of the slope. His shorts rode up to reveal a fading tan and his backpack was almost on top of him; tipping him forward, urging him on. He felt the incline change and sat back to let himself coast down, down into the cul-de-sac. The cold air felt good against his sweaty forehead, and with a familiar motion he let go of the handlebars to wipe the condensation of the early-September evening off.

Home.

Another day of school done. Alfred grinned. Only… he calculated for a moment. Two hundred eighty minus seven… two hundred and seventy-three more days to go! Most folks started their end of school countdown at the end of the year, but not Alfred. To him, the days were only numbers on the calendar which he treated with the disinterest of immutable facts; a high score, for which he cared, but could do nothing to change.

Alfred allowed his mind to wander as he let gravity take him down the slope. So far, disregarding two years of preschool and kindergarten, he figured he had 1,774 days on the board from his ten years of schooling, minus a few days for being sick and a couple here and there to play hooky. It wasn't like he cared so much about a perfect attendance; he didn't. There was just something constant in the unending parade of numbers, numbers that even school couldn't attach meaning to. A point system.

Pulling up in front of the house, Alfred let himself in and immediately dropped his backpack in the entryway. It was a typical suburban house with about ten year old shag carpet visible beyond the tile of kitchen.

"Hello? Mom? You home?" Alfred listened, walking up to the change bowl and grabbing a handful of quarters.

"I'm going to the arcade, okay?" There was a distant shout that could have been interpreted as really anything. Close enough, Alfred thought, pocketing the money and bounding out the door. Alfred hopped on his bike, pedaling hard enough to work up another sweat.

The gravel crunched as Alfred pulled into the dusty parking lot of the old arcade. In recent years the place had seen a lot less traffic and had fallen into disuse and ill-repute. A faced patch covered over some recent graffiti. Alfred scowled at the off-color blue paint. He remembered the first day he saw that. It made him mad to see the local joint tagged by some kids. He probably even knew them—it was a pretty small town.

The easy-going type, Alfred never had problems making friends and considered himself to be generally well-liked. A little too geeky to be considered popular, he would have conceded if asked, but well-liked. In the small, typical Midwest town, his friendly personality was appreciated for its liveliness, and for that he could usually pull the dumb act when he felt tired without too much consequence. He leaned his bike up to cover the spot. A good kid. Even if they called him a math geek, there was no dispute he was a good kid.

Alfred jumped up the concrete steps and lazily leaned the door open while he counted quarters, calculating how many games he could play. The college student behind the counter gave him a familiar nod before going back to his coursework. Alfred's eyes adjusted to the darkness of the arcade.

The Astro Arcade was a worn complex that was like the outgrown t-shirt of the town; hardly used, but still there. The stucco exterior was painted navy blue in the hopes of sticking with the space theme, but had since been patched over with other similar shades to cover graffiti. Inside, the carpet was a faded pattern of stars and rocket ships, worn almost to white fray and wood in front of the popular games. If Alfred were to bet, he'd say the place hadn't been vacuumed since 1965. An overall sense of grime pervaded the place which probably contributed to the decline in traffic, but Alfred didn't care. There was only one game he had in mind.

Making his way over to a particularly worn-out console, Alfred pulled a crumpled tissue out of his pocket and carefully began to wipe around the buttons. The man at the counter looked up blankly before going back to his work again. Alfred ignored him. It was kind of gross otherwise, even though it was probably mostly his own germs he wiped away. He played the game almost daily.

Some kids traded baseball cards, others played sports; Alfred played Asteroids.

After the machine was sufficiently clean, Alfred inserted the first of his quarters and got to work. The object of the game was to survive for as long as possible by dodging and blasting asteroids. It didn't have the flashiest graphics, but the simple controls and easy premise had quickly made the game Alfred's favorite. That wasn't to say it was easy; it took a surprising amount of dexterity to maneuver the tiny triangular craft in the patch of drifting space junk. It had taken many hours hunched over the screen to get the hang of the controls, but he had eventually mastered the game, as his dominance over the scoreboard proved. Now Asteroids was comfortable, and while Alfred was always willing to try the other games that Kiku recommended, he always said that they "just weren't as heroic" as the original.

Alfred shot a few more times, then groaned as his ship lost its last life. Well, that was that. He stepped back and twisted his neck a couple times to get it back to normal. Might be nice to take a break. If he paced himself, he could buy a Coke with the quarters he saved. Besides, maybe he'd play better after walking around.

There were a few kids who came to the arcade regularly whom Alfred could identify. Today a couple of them were in. Kiku, whose parents were from Japan, sat destroying at a new Namco game. Matthew, who didn't talk much and was a couple years younger than Alfred, was also in.

"Hey Kiku, what's up?" Alfred slapped his friend on the back, and the boy shuddered and faltered in his game. "Oh, whoops, sorry. Forgot you don't like to be…" He trailed off as Kiku frantically nodded. "I'll just…" Geez, quite the social butterflies in this joint, Alfred thought. Not wishing for a similar reaction from Matthew, he caught his eye and only smiled as he walked to the counter to buy a Coke. No longer in a rush, he wandered back to his usual spot with the drink and took a few sips before restarting his game.

In some ways Alfred distanced himself from the awkward arcade regulars, but at the same time he also enjoyed their company more than he did of the "normal" kids at school. With the gamer crowd he didn't have to worry about being judged or how he sounded. Still, he would have liked if they interacted with him more. It was pretty quiet in the arcade with no one to talk to.

Eventually Kiku and Matthew ran out of money and left, leaving Alfred alone. He took a couple more swigs to finish off the can, then sat down to really start playing.

After about ten minutes the door swung open, and out of habit Alfred looked up to see who it was. A little late to come play, he thought. Place usually closes at five. The newcomer looked to be about Alfred's age, and was dressed a little too warmly for the weather with what looked like a homemade scarf wrapped around his neck. Even from a distance he looked huge; big and sturdy and tall enough to be able to see comfortably over the rows of consoles. His light blond hair almost grazed the low stucco ceiling because of his height.

Alfred watched as the newcomer looked around uncomfortably, glancing at the front desk as if to ask permission before wandering over to the gaming section. He took a long time to carefully check the names, eventually finding a console two away from Alfred's. I wonder what he's going to play, Alfred thought. As his ship exploded died on screen, he stepped back and leaned against the front of the cabinet. He watched as the boy seemed to struggle with pushing in the coins, quickly growing frustrated.

"Here, let me help you. I've heard this one's a little sticky." The boy looked over, confused, but Alfred just walked over and crouched down in front of the console. He took the coins out, pounded the button a few times, then pushed the coins back in. "See? You just have to force it." He looked up at the fidgeting boy and straightened.

"Eh… thank you." The lighter blond smiled sweetly.

Man, he's even bigger up close.

"No problemo, buddy! I'm Alfred, by the way. But you can call me Al." He held his hand out good-naturedly, but retracted it when he saw the teen look bewildered.

"My name is Ivan."

Alfred smiled at his stiff pronunciation. "Well, nice to meet you, Ivan. If you don't mind me asking, where's your accent from?"

Ivan colored. "I am from CC— USSR," he amended slowly. "I did not think my accent was so bad."

Alfred shrugged. "It's alright. Betcha don't get a lot of practice over there." Ivan said nothing, looking back at his console. "Oh, I get it. Tetris 'cause you're from Russia, right?"

Ivan nodded.

"Wasn't Tetris invented in Russia?"

Another nod.

Not much of a talker, then. "Alright, well… enjoy your game, I guess." Alfred went back to his spot, feeding in another coin and humming happily. It didn't take long before he was fully engrossed in blasting space rocks again. Ivan took the opportunity to sneak a sidelong glance. He had heard Americans were friendly, but this was more than he had expected.

Asteroids wasn't a particularly difficult game, but Alfred preoccupied himself with it for another half hour until his money ran out. Before he left, he smiled at Ivan and gave a sloppy salute on the way out. Ivan managed to nod back in return before Alfred bounded out the door and onto his bike. Ivan watched him leave before he returned to his game, the ghost of a smile on his face.

In case you didn't know: CCCP is the Russian version of USSR which is why Ivan stumbled on it at first.

Asteroids is a space shooter game that was released in 1979 by Atari, an American company. It was immediately successful upon release, and is the best-selling game for Atari of all time.

Thank you for reading! I'm the type who loves historical context, so prepare for a lot of background info in these author's notes. Any comments or constructive criticisms are very much appreciated.