on the red team,” Dan says as a grenade blinks in the middle of the screen, telling us the game is loading.
“That doesn’t sound fair. Red isn’t really a color that’s easy to camouflage. Can’t I be on the—” Before I can finish, the game starts, and Dan kills Bob immediately. “Hey! I wasn’t ready!” I tap random buttons to come back to life.
“Shoot Your Face does not wait for the whiny, cheerleader.”
“Stop calling me that,” I say just as my character explodes again. “Give me a chance to get used to this, at least.” Dying twice in a row is driving my competitive spirit crazy.
“I didn’t do that. You blew yourself up with a grenade.”
“How could I do that? I don’t even know which button throws a grenade.”
“Obviously you don’t, because you didn’t throw it, you held onto that sucker. Bam!”
“Stop killing me!”
“But that’s the whole point of the game.”
After a while, I start to get the hang of things. Bob dodges and weaves, rolls and ducks. Dan talks a lot of smack, but at least he’s not treating me like a stupid girl. It takes me two hours before I finally get Dan’s guy.
I jump up and start doing a happy dance. “Yes! I got you! Bob is the man!”
Dan drops his controller and flops back in his chair. “Thank God. That took forever.”
“Let’s go again.” I expertly scroll through Bob’s weapons, arming him with a flame thrower.
“Maybe later, I’m thirsty.” He rolls out of his chair and onto the floor, then hops up and leaves the room.
I catch up to him on the stairs. “But I was just getting good. Come on.”
“All shooting faces and no fluids makes Dan a very dull boy. You want some sweet tea?”
The kitchen is huge, of course. I take a seat at one of the fifties-style, red bar stools behind the granite-topped island. Dan fixes a couple of glasses of tea with plenty of ice.
He sits down two bar stools away. “So, feel any better? I’ve found Shoot Your Face is a perfectly healthy outlet for teenage angst.”
“Who said I was feeling angsty?”
“I figured you wouldn’t be very happy after how your date went yesterday.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Logan seems to think you had a horrible time. And I can understand why because, ‘She turned down NerdCon and doesn’t want to see me again.’ That’s how he put it.”
This is not exactly the person with whom I want to discuss my love life, but who else do I have at this point? “I had a great time. It’s just… There’s other stuff going on with me. It’s all confusing and stupid, and I just don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Aw, poor cheerleader. Listen, I didn’t call you over here to soothe your aching bloomers. I called you over here because I want Logan to be happy. He deserves it. If it means getting the girl he’s been hardcore pining after, then damn it, I’m going to make that happen.”
My heart melts a little. “He’s been ‘pining’ for me?”
“You are oblivious, aren’t you? I guess I can’t really be pissed at you. Logan never had the balls to say anything to you. You kind of fell into his lap at the shop. He couldn’t freakin’ believe it. It was like the kid was getting a BB gun for Christmas when you walked in there.”
“So, he did tell you before I ran into you at the shop?” Why am I not surprised?
“Of course he did. He couldn’t keep that a secret. But it doesn’t matter now because you’re screwing all this up. And I’d bet my life-size Queen Amidala poster that Kelsey is with him right now, healing his wounds. The girl has a way of getting under Logan’s skin, and I heard her talking to her crew of Goth fairies at the game the other night after y’all left. She’s after him again, and I have to admit, that chick knows how to get what she wants. She might not get it fairly, but what’s the saying? All is donkey balls in love and war?”
“All is fair in love and war. Why do you think she’s after him again? What did she say?”
“What does it matter? It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, are you? You won’t even go to NerdCon with him. Which is a travesty, by the way. I mean, who turns down a V.I.P. pass to NerdCon? Not that I’m complaining. I’ll appreciate it more than