Oh dear, here goes nothing I guess...
Apparently Los Angeles had a place that's a lot like Funset Boulevard. Only here, its for older kids, and there aren't any four or five year olds running around screaming. From the moment I walked in, I was in awe. The ceiling was incredibly high and neon lights were the only lights. The tile flooring and the walls were pitch black and the only windows were blacked out, the only light came from the games themselves or from neon lights that lined the floor and ceiling, and outlined doorways. A giant hand was attached to the ceiling in a way that made it look as if was reaching down, trying to grab a patron or two, and the whole place was designed to look realistically fake.
I smiled when I saw the plethora of games, there was enough to keep me entertained for days. On the ride here I was forced to listen to Paul brag about how great he is at first person shooters, and it took all I could not to smirk at him. I glanced over at him, watching him look around as if he owned the place. Oh, today revenge would be the sweetest candy, and his crushed pride would be the sugar on top.
"Hey Paul?" I called, putting on an innocent expression. He looked at me and I resisted an evil smile. "Would you show me how to play those shooting games?" I smiled a sickly sweet smile and watched as he smirked.
"Sure." We walked over to a small, two person hunting game, and we both put in the required tokens. "Alright, I'll go first, show you how its done, then you try." He raised the bright orange gun to his shoulder and held it there, shooting at the different options to select the type of game. I waited patiently as he went first, shooting three of the four bucks, a racoon, and a doe. His smirk remained as his score was tallied and the game called for player two.
I looked over at him, "My turn then?"
"Yeah, just hold it like I did and shoot, don't forget to reload and cock the gun."
"Got it!" I watched as the animals roamed for a second, then I released all of my inner video gamer and laughed as I took down all of the required bucks, a raccoon, and a squirrel. My score tallied as I looked over at Paul. His smug look was gone and seemed confused. I heard him mutter something about "beginner's luck," but it wasn't clear.
We finished that game, and several others, all with me coming out the reigning champion. I watched him get more frustrated and more competitive with each game and I couldn't help but grin wickedly. I was probably being mean, but I couldn't help myself.
As we spent more time here he became more and more snappy, getting angry over everything. I wasn't helping, but I wasn't taunting him -kinda- either. Eventually he threw in the towel.
"This is frickin' stupid!" he yelled, kicking the poor machine in anger.
I stood behind him slightly, my head turned to the side. "What do you suggest we do then, Big Bad?" I noticed a that there were quite a few curious onlookers, trying to see what was happening. I glared at each of them, but only some were deterred. Paul looked to be in thought. Suddenly he grabbed my hand and started dragging me away from the games. "H-Hey! Where are we going!" I tugged on my hand but he just shook his head.
"You'll see."
He pulled me through a door marked "Batting Cages," and I shuddered. I don't do sports, or coordination. We came to an unused machine and he pushed me forward. I turned back and scowled at him, "I don't like baseball."
"Too bad," he laughed, and I could practically see the need to beat me at something burning in his eyes.
I sighed and my shoulders drooped, as if a giant weight was just pressed down on me. I took a helmet and a bat, opened the door, and entered the cage. I stood at the diamond and I heard Paul starting the machine. I could hear it whir to life and then a ball was being hurtled at my head. I didn't move an inch as the ball flew past me, instead staring straight ahead. I heard Paul laugh and I tightened my grip on the bat, just in time as another ball was shot at me. I swung this time, but too late.
I could hear Paul laughing at my every attempt, and after every failed try I ground my teeth harder, determined to at least hit a ball. After the fifth ball Paul started yelling 'advice' and it made my blood boil even more. Finally they stopped coming and I had to resist the urge to throw my bat and helmet to the ground. I started walking out and he walked past me, entering the cage with a heavy bat and no helmet. I put my stuff back and started the machine for him, hating him for every ball he hit right into the back nets. He didn't miss a single ball, and he smirked the entire time.
When it was finally over he put his bat away and wrapped a giant arm around my shoulders, steering me back into the main arcade. "That, Little Red, is how its done."
I glared and tried not to hiss at him. Once we got back to the main room a I knew I needed to get rid of some of this angry energy, and I headed to the Dance-Dance machines. "Paul, want to try this?" I asked, though my snarky tone suggested I didn't want him to join me. He shook his head lounged against a nearby wall.
I lazily flicked through the songs and waited for one to peak my interest. I found one, set it to hard, and prepared myself. I bent my knees, spread my arms, and actually had fun. By the time I was finished I had played three songs, beat my best score, and turned around to see people waiting in line for the machine. "Oh, I'm sorry," I apologized, collecting my purse from the ground nearby. I made to scurry away put they stopped me.
"Do you want to play with us? We only have three people and we wanted to play teams." I looked all three of them over, noticing that for three white boys, they were pretty tan. One was blonde and the other two were dark haired, one of them having glasses and all of them wearing basically the same graphic t-shirts and jeans.
I shrugged my shoulders and tried not to look down and blush, "Sure."
The blonde one smiled, "Great, you can go with m-"
"No," Paul interrupted. I glanced behind me to see his hulking frame hovering over me. He was staring the three down, and doing a good job of it.
"Whaddya mean no?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
"I mean no."
"Did you want to play, 'cause you ca-"
"I don't want to play!" he yelled, suddenly in my face.
"Then what's your problem?" My arms flung out and landed at my sides, clenching into fists.
"You are my problem," he growled. He started to shake a little but I ignored it, too blinded by my sudden fury.
"What the Hell Paul?" I roared. "You have been nothing but a selfish, angry brute since the moment I met you! What have I done wrong, did I look at you funny? Was I supposed to bow to you and lick your shoes?" I hardly noticed the three leaving, scurrying away from our argument. I kept getting louder and Paul shook harder, practically vibrating. "I'm so sorry that I agreed to this, I should have just kept avoiding you!" I wanted to say more but he looked like he was having an upright seizure. "Stop shaking like that!"
He growled and grabbed my arm, marching me to the exit. I tried to squirm away from him, but just like before, he held tight. Only this time it wasn't light hearted, it was angry and every tug made me stumble. Once we made it to the truck he opened his door and pushed me in, causing me to scoot to the passenger's seat as he climbed in. His shaking was slowing but his knuckles gripped the steering wheel so tight they were white. I glared out my window and stewed in silence, not wanting to talk to him. At some point my belly growled and I ignored it, still glaring ahead.
We pulled into a parking lot and I glanced at the still silent barbarian, not understanding his motives. He parked and got out, walking into the building and I hesitated, unsure if I was meant to follow. I did, hurrying to catch up with his long strides. He was seated at a booth in the back, and I glanced around at what seemed to be a family diner. I quietly slid into the booth across from him and looked down at my hands.
I heard him sigh but he didn't say anything. Eventually an elderly lady came up to us, handing both of us a menu and pulling out a notepad. "What can I get you two?" she asked, her voice like honey to my ears. She looked like the stereotypical grandmother, her light gray hair in a loose bun at the top of her head, only a few strands escaping to rest at the nape of her neck. She wore a sunlight yellow cardigan and light purple, fabric like pants under the diner's black apron. She even had small reading glasses hanging around her neck.
I smiled up at her warm blue eyes, speaking softly, "I'd just like some water, thank you." I felt my belly about to grumble and coughed to cover it. She looked at me suspiciously.
"A skinny little thing like you shouldn't skip meals," she told me, her tone warm but still scolding.
I laughed awkwardly and scratched my arm, glancing around the room. I cleared my throat and tried to keep up a normal smile. "No, its not that I skip meals," I started, but I couldn't look at Paul or the older lady. "I, uh, spentallmymoneyalready," I mumbled, the words coming out in a rush and my cheeks burned. When I glanced at the waitress I saw she looked confused, like she didn't hear me, but I would not repeat myself. What kind of person my age spends all her money like that? I should have kept some in case we went to get food. "So, just water for me."
The waitress, who I saw had a nametag labeled Delilah, opened her mouth, but was cut off. "She'll have a cheeseburger," Paul said, though it came out more of a demand. I glanced at him and was about to protest, but he glared at me. "I can pay for your lunch, don't look at me like that."
"I wasn't looking at you like anything," I defended, my blush growing darker. "I just don't feel like lunch right now."
He snorted, "I could hear your belly growling the entire drive here."
"Well," I stopped, I really shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. My argument died on my lips and I relented. "Alright, thanks for lunch Big Bad."
He smirked and turned to Delilah, ordering a mountain of food. I was used to the large meals now, after having lived with Emily for so long, but I wondered how he could afford to eat practically the entire kitchen. Delilah smiled her motherly smile and pet my arm, walking to the kitchen to deliver the order.
"I'm still upset with you," I told him, slouching into my booth and crossing my arms.
He raised a brow in my direction. "Oh really?"
"Yes." If he thinks that simply buying me lunch will make me forget he totally blew up for no reason, then he is sorely mistaken. There was absolutely no reason for him to be angry with me or the guys I was talking to, we weren't bothering anyone. He acted like one of those horribly possessive douche bags, preventing me from even speaking to a person of the opposite sex. I didn't know where the behavior was coming from, but I don't like it. If I was entirely honest I would say that I prefered it when he completely ignored me, rather than when he was paying too much attention to me. There was silence as I stewed in my thoughts, becoming more solid in the idea that I would be ignoring and avoiding Paul as much as possible. During the school year that should get much easier, and since school was almost here, I wouldn't have to wait long. Once he meets up with his friends he should have no reason to hang around me. Hopefully he would be too busy with sports and friends and whatever to even bother me.
We ate lunch in silence, not even looking at eachother. Delilah made passing comments every once in a while, but I think even she could feel the tension. By the time we were leaving I was itching to be home and alone. I don't think I could stand another hour in the presence of Big Bad, honestly he'd probably suffocate me with his giant ego and oddly possessive actions. Also, if another piece of food escaped his mouth and lands on me, I think I'll scream. He shovels food in his mouth by the handful, almost, and it doesn't always make it to his stomach, sometimes it flies out of his mouth and lands on the person across from him, namely me.
The car ride back was equally silent and tense, and I practically vibrated with relief when I saw Sam and Emily's house in front of me. The car had barely stopped before I had grabbed my purse and was halfway out the door, pausing for a moment to call over my shoulder, "See ya!" I slammed the door behind me and hoped he got the hint that this time I do not want to be followed. Emily came in from the kitchen and was wiping her hands on a dishcloth, looking at me with curious and hopeful eyes. I glared at her and growled, "Never again." She looked like she was about to laugh and I grumbled at her, not necessarily making any sense. I turned and bolted up the stairs, locking my door behind me and throwing my purse on the bed. I paused, my mind turning with a thought. I looked back at the bed and realized I made a mistake, I'd left my books with Paul. I groaned, flinging myself on the bed and hating myself. Stupid Big Bad with his stupid face and stupid personality and my stupid forgetfulness. Now I'd have to talk him into giving them back, great.
How was it? Was it okay, was it cheesy? Are my characters believable? On my, I'm worried about this chapter because I always feel like my characters either have the emotional range of a rock, or they jump from one emotion to another like a kid on crack! Ugh, and dialogue is HARD! I'm socially awkward myself so its hard for me to say how people converse... Anywho! Please review, it makes me happy when you do!