Nina had devoted considerable time to reading the last six months of Sports Illustrated and several books about the history of baseball (America’s Pastime), football (America’s Sport), and, just in case, ice hockey (Canada’s Thing). She read Wikipedia entries on as many athletes as she could, and felt—if not actually competitive in this category—at least less likely to have to crawl out of the bar on her belly.
Tonight’s venue was in Los Feliz, at a bar called Arcade. Nina looked around and saw the whole story: Someone had come across fifty of those tables that used to be so popular, with video game consoles sunk into their surfaces, and had gotten them cheap. Having been carried away in the moment, they then realized they had to do something with them, and opening a bar sounded like a good idea at the time.
The rest of Book ’Em were already there, seated at a Galaga table that actually worked. Lauren was playing while Carter and Leah heckled from the side.
“Ladies,” said Nina, as she settled herself down. Leah handed her a glass of wine, which she immediately started drinking. She must be more nervous than she thought.
“Thanks,” said Carter. “I realize I am a sensitive guy, but I’m not actually a lady.”
Nina shrugged. “How’s she doing?”
Leah looked up from the game. “Well, if the fate of the planet were in Lauren’s hands, we’d all be doomed.”
“Just as well it isn’t, then,” said Lauren, throwing her hands up in frustration as her rocket was utterly destroyed.
“My turn,” said Carter, reaching down to put in some coins.
Nina looked casually around the bar. She’d finished her wine already and reached across the table to steal Carter’s half glass.
“They’re not here yet,” said Leah.
“Who isn’t?” Nina asked innocently.
“Don’t pretend. Quizzard. They’re not here yet, but they are on the board. We’re up against them in the second round, assuming we can beat Menace to Sobriety.”
“Which we presumably can?”
“No clue; new team.”
“Where are they?”
Leah pointed to a group of guys on the other side of the bar. “Ms. Pac-Man table.”
Nina looked and grinned. “Oh, we’re totally good. That guy used to be in Tequila Mockingbird. He’s half-drunk already; let’s send over a round of shots.”
“That’s cheating.”
Nina looked scandalized. “That’s not cheating. That’s being supportive.” Then she looked at the door and Leah whacked her on the arm.
“Stop obsessing over that guy. It’s going to weaken your attack. Stay focused, Hill. We win this, we advance to the semis.”
“I’m not obsessing.”
“Sure.”
Carter suddenly let out a whoop. “I’m on the leaderboard!” He stood and shimmied around the table, kissing everyone extravagantly, which is of course exactly when Tom walked into the bar. He was with the girl from the movie theater, Lisa. She went off to find a table, and Tom headed to the bar. Not that Nina was keeping track or anything.
“You can go order your round of sabotage shots now,” said Leah. She looked at Nina. “Go say hi to your little friend.”
“My little friend? Are you referencing WarGames or Scarface?”
Leah made a face at her. “Neither. Most people are able to use language without it being a movie or book reference. You’re the one who lives her real life in a fictional universe.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” said Nina, getting up. She walked across the bar, surreptitiously tugging her dress out of any potential folds it might have settled into. She was a real person; when she sat, she folded. Fortunately, her dark green dress was vintage, and made of sterner stuff than its modern counterparts, so she was able to pull it back into sleekness with no problem. God bless natural fibers and cutting on the bias.
She squeezed up to the bar, next to Tom. “Uh, hi there.”
Tom had actually been watching Nina approach in the mirror behind the bar, having spotted her instantly when he came in through the door. He’d watched her straighten her dress and immediately wanted to unstraighten it again. He was clearly losing his mind.
“Hi,” he said, and smiled at her, glad the lights in the bar were dim so she couldn’t see him blushing. “Ready for battle?”
She nodded, also secretly blushing. “Hopefully. You?”
He shrugged. “Hopefully. Lisa, who you met the other night, has allergies, so she’s being whiny. The other two aren’t here yet.”
“Is she your girlfriend?” Oh. My. GOD. What is wrong with you?
He paused, and a tiny frown creased his eyebrows. “No, she’s a friend. We’ve known each other since high school.”
“Oh.” Nina flailed around for a comment. “Cool beans.” At this her brain threw up its metaphorical hands and curled up on its stem like a pissed-off hen. I’m not playing anymore, it said. If the mouth isn’t going to wait for my advice, I’m done.
Nina ordered a round of shots. Tom feigned horror. “Aren’t you taking a risk, doing shots before the contest? What about your laser focus and impressive recall?”
She made a face at him. “Are you mocking me? You beat us last time.”
“That was luck. I’ve seen you play a hundred times, and that was the first time I’ve seen you beaten.” He paused. “Well, apart from the semifinal last year.”
“Oh, you saw that?”
He blushed deeper. “Yeah. We got knocked out in the semis, too. By the Spanish In-quiz-ition.” He grinned. “Nobody expected it.”
She grinned back at him. Monty Python and Harry Potter; Not just a sports nerd after all. Her shots arrived, and she was about to tell him they were for the other team, but suddenly it did seem like cheating. Dammit.
He shifted his feet, so he was facing her more completely. Her head came up to his shoulder, and she had to tip her head back a little. They were very close; she could smell sawdust and soap. “Enjoy your shots,” he said. “I’m ordering a proprietary blend of caffeine, omega-6 oils, cinnamon, and ginseng. I have it shipped directly to the bars so my team is in tip-top form.”
“Really?”
He shook his head. “Nah, not really. It’s a bucket of beer and a bowl of pistachios.”
“I love pistachios.”
“Me too.”
“They’re chock-full of fat-soluble vitamins.”
Here the conversation faltered, unsurprisingly. The phrase “chock-full” might have been the killer. Nina picked up her tray of shots and pivoted to go.
“Well, it’s nice to see you again,” she said, lamely.
He nodded. “I look forward to beating you.” He paused. “That sounded weird.”
Nina frowned up at him. “Good luck with that. We’re on fire this evening. We’ve been warming up with Galaga and have successfully defended our planet for a solid hour.”
He laughed. “If you’ve been here for a while and now you’re doing shots, it’s going to be an easy win for my team of highly trained, entirely sober intellectual giants.”
“Want to bet?”