“Fine,” I said. “But only for you. And he has to apologize.”
“Don’t look at me! I can’t promise he will.”
“Hmm.”
Lee slipped his cell phone out of his pocket—three guesses who he was texting and what it was about. Lee hadn’t exactly been the most enthusiastic supporter of my relationship with Noah when he first found out about us, but he loved both of us; times like this, I was glad of it.
“Okay!” He clapped his hands together, looped his arm through mine, and started walking again. “Putting all your relationship drama behind us…can we just appreciate again how freaking awesome today was? Did you see that crowd? I bet the video looks incredible.”
“I can’t believe you got so far behind.”
“I was so close to catching up on that last lap, but then Amanda took a corner too fast and spun straight into me and Rachel went into the back of me. It was a three-car pileup that cost me precious seconds.” He gave a mournful sigh and shake of his head, but when he looked back up at me, he was beaming. “And, hell, if I’d known it’d raise so much money, I would’ve made a bigger deal out of it. We should’ve done it ages ago.”
“For charity, Lee?” I shot him a sly smile.
He laughed. “Always, Shelly, always. And—” He broke off, snorting and laughing suddenly and taking me by surprise. His eyes began to water. “Can we also appreciate how goddamn stupid Noah looked in the Toad costume?”
I allowed myself a smile and snickered as I remembered. Warren was shorter than Noah, a different build. The white trousers had hung a couple of inches above Noah’s ankles and the blue waistcoat with yellow trim had looked a little snug on him. I hadn’t even really been able to appreciate the sight of his bare chest, I’d been too angry at him when we’d finally been face to face. And the giant mushroom hat that had been secured to his helmet…
Lee was laughing so hard he was wheezing, and I leaned heavily on him, a stitch pulling tight at my side as I tried to sober up.
“How in the hell did he manage to look so mad dressed like that?” I asked breathlessly. “How? Nobody should be able to dress up like Toad and look so pissed.”
“Imagine how much better it would’ve been if he’d kept the helmet on to be mad.”
Picturing it, I started laughing all over again.
We’d just about managed to stop laughing and breathe again when Lee pulled me to a stop. Quickly, he covered my eyes.
“All right, Elle. Do you know where you are?”
“Uh, the boardwalk?”
“Elle.”
I huffed, but indulged him, turning my focus from the hands covering my face to the electronic pinging sound somewhere in front of me. A clattering noise like…like foosball. Something that sounded like the go-karts, along with a tinny voice that said, “Player One wins!” The plastic-y bang and slamming of air hockey.
I gasped, pulling Lee’s hands away and snapping my eyes open to stare in awe at the arcade in front of me. I turned to Lee to find his eyes glittering. He seemed to be shaking. So excited he could barely contain himself. Lights from the games flashed across the arcade and kids ran back and forth. A couple of preteens were trying to win something from the claw machine and a few parents hung around.
“Lee…this is the arcade.”
“Elle,” he said. “This is the arcade.”
Both of us holding our breath, we stepped across the threshold and into the arcade. It was like stepping back in time. Our moms used to bring us here when we were really small. Lee and I had come out to the arcade by ourselves during the summers when we were in middle school—and even played hooky one day to come here. (We got caught and were grounded for two weeks each, but it had felt so totally worth it at the time.)
I couldn’t remember the last time we’d come out here. I guessed, at some point, we’d just grown out of it.
But I could remember our favorite game: the Dance Dance Mania machine was sitting proudly in the center of the arcade. Its silver steel was flecked with rust and was a little misty-looking, but the blue and pink flashing arrows were bright as ever.
Wordlessly, Lee and I approached it.
I ran a hand over the handlebar at the back of the game. I could see Lee beaming at me, proud to share this.
“We came out here for the eighties mini golf,” he explained, “and walked right past this place. I’d forgotten all about it till then.”
“Oh my God” was all I could say. Because—oh my God. It was still here. How many hours had we devoted to DDM when we were kids? I wasn’t always especially coordinated, but this game had been one of my few strong suits in that area. We used to rule this game.
Lee fished in his shorts pocket for a bunch of quarters. He held them out to me, cradling them like diamonds. They even seemed to sparkle in the glare of all the flashing lights.
“Ready, Player Two?”
“Oh, you are so on.”
The two of us leaped up onto the machine, taking up our old spots. Lee fed the quarters in and the demo video on the screen switched to a list of songs. Lee paused on “All Summer Long” by Kid Rock.
“That’s it,” I told him. “That’s the one.”
He selected it and then gave me the biggest, most impish grin imaginable as he selected Difficulty level: Expert.
“You don’t think we’re a little rusty for expert, Lee?”
“Bwok-bwok-bwok-bwok-bwok,” he clucked, fanning his arms at his sides, elbows out. “Is that a chicken I hear?”
I narrowed my eyes, turning back to the screen. “Mind you don’t trip over those two left feet, Lee. I’ve got a game to win.”
The screen switched to the game.
THREE.
Chicken? I’d show him chicken. I’d crush this.
TWO.
There was no chance in hell of me winning. I bet Lee would suck, too. We were in an arcade surrounded by little kids half our age and we were about to make utter fools of ourselves, trying to play at expert level on DDM.
ONE.
I sucked in a breath, my hands clenching into fists. The blend of anticipation and pure, childish delight that was fizzing through me was intoxicating.
GO!
Arrows flew across the screen and my legs lurched into action. I could hear Lee thrashing about beside me, our feet stomping frantically as we did our damnedest to keep up with the game. I didn’t dare spare him a look. I was completely focused on the screen and I knew he would be, too.