The corner of my lips curled as I placed my hand on top of his, halting his movements. I stared at him inquisitively.
“You’re not trying to get me to have sex with you, right?”
“Uh, what?” He scoffed while gesturing to the television, the words ‘Call of Duty’now illuminated on the screen. “I just want to play video games. Hate to break it to ya, Princess, but the only thing you’re gonna blow today is a zombie’s brains out with a gun.”
I bit my lip to stop from laughing. “Good.”
“So, we have to keep it down because my sister is upstairs, but basically what you do is—”
“Wait, did you sayzombies?”
While reading aboutCall of Duty, I saw that there were several different versions of the game—Black Ops 6,Warzone,Modern Warfare, evenGhosts…butZombies? What the hell was that?
“Oh, this is gonna be fun.” He wiggled his eyebrow.
After a brief explanation from Elliot, I concentrated my focus on remembering which button performed which action, and after thirty minutes of mis-clicks and fumbles, I finally committed it to memory. Now, it was just a matter of actually being good at the game. And how the hell were both of my thumbs supposed to manage different movements at the same time—one to look around and the other to walk? Who designed this fucked up system?
I tucked a stray hair behind my ear as I aimed my shotgun at the nearest zombie and fired. In the blink of an eye, another zombie had attacked me from behind, killing me in an instant.
Elliot rushed over quickly, trying to revive my character, but the zombies swarmed him, pinning him against a wall and putting an end to our run. Twelve rounds. Not too shabby for someone who couldn’t differentiate the left bumper from the left trigger only an hour ago. Elliot set his controller down and raised an eyebrow at me.
“You’re getting better.”
“Still not as good as you thought.”
“Well, you’re better than me at everything else, so I’ll take my wins where I can get them.”
“You’re better at poisoning your lungs with smoke.”
“Oh wow.” He laughed. With every word he spoke, his voice remained steady, devoid of malice. “So, this is how you want to play? At least I didn’t get detention on the first day of school. You beat me at that.”
“You got detention, too!” I jested back.
He pointed a finger at me, smirking as he spoke. “But it was later in the day.”
“Of course, it was.”
I snorted, our laughter intertwining as the constant drone of zombies groaning in the background emanated from the television. I glanced up at him, my eyes heavy. I never thought I could feel so relaxed at someone else’s house, let alone in someone else’s company.
But with Elliot, everything felt lighter.
The same emotionally immature character who claimed the forefront of his image at school would melt away when we were alone, revealing a carefree spirit with a comical undertone. Piercing and tattoos be damned, this boy was kind and soft and charming and funny. I felt my cheeks pinken. Maybe I wasn’t the only one wearing a mask at school. Maybe it was time for me to question who Elliot truly was underneath the disguise he wore.
“I guess it’s my turn to ask you now.” I shrugged.
“Ask me what?”
“You said if we wanted this fake relationship to work, we needed to know each other. So, tell me something real, Abercrombie.”
The corners of his lips twitched upward. I saw the wheels in his head turn as he contemplated what to say. His eyes flicked toward the ceiling as he pondered some more.
“After I graduate, I want to be a graphic designer.”
“Whoa.”
“Whoa?” he repeated, questioning my reaction. “Is it hard to believe I like drawing or something?”
“No, it’s not that.” I laughed. “It’s just, I just didn’t think you planned for tomorrow, let alone after graduation.”
