“What’s this place?” I ask, squinting at the window, trying to peek inside. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“Somehow I knew that would be the case.” Zayne offers me a sideways grin. “This, Dot, is the best place in Boston to have some fun.”
He gets out of the car, and my stomach somersaults when he walks around to open my door for me. The cold wind stings my cheeks, blowing my scarf around. I step out, blushing as he takes my hand. “Is it made out of nickels or something?”
He shakes his head. “No. It’s full of really fun games, and each one only costs a nickel to play.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t judge it until you’ve played.” He taps my nose. “And try not to get attached either. This place is closing down for good in a few months.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “Not enough business, I guess. It’s a shame. I’ve been coming here since I was a kid.”
I look at the retro-style building, complete with a giant, illustrated nickel painted on the window, and try to imagine Zayne coming here as a kid, probably with Lenny, excited and holding a bag of nickels. I can’t help but smile. “Let’s go play!”
He smiles widely and puts his arm around my shoulder. “I’m going to kick your butt at air hockey.”
“Probably,” I agree. “I suck at air hockey.”
“Woah. Don’t go doubting yourself already. At least put on a poker face. Make me think the match will be a challenge.”
I laugh. “Sorry. Tonight is our break from acting, remember?”
Zayne shakes his head in mock sadness as we walk inside. “But that’s the best way to be a good actor. To be acting at all times. Even on your day off.”
I know he’s joking, but the words bring me back to Rue’s statement about Fallbrook actors dating each other to improve their skills. Now that I’m thinking about it again, it’s hard tostop. I try to smile, but it feels too forced, so I let it drop from my face.
Zayne doesn’t seem to notice. He’s inserting his debit card into a vending machine, which sprays out a pile of nickels for us to play games with.
The interior of this place has fun, bright orange carpet with blue accent walls. A variety of arcade-style games are peppered throughout the space, and there’s a prize counter along the far back wall. A cluster of younger kids are currently dominating the virtual-reality station. A mom and toddler are trying their hand at a game with a gopher head appearing through one of several holes at random. As soon as it appears through one, the toddler bops it on the head with the attached hammer and laughs. A lone older man is in a concentrated trance as he tries to get his nickel to land on a bullseye slot from its narrow entry point.
Zayne and I make our way to the air hockey table, and he puts a nickel in. “You’re going down,” he says with a straight face.
I laugh, some of the uneasiness I’m experiencing falling away. “Probably.”
I pick up the plastic paddle and ready myself for him to shoot the puck at my goal. I’m ready to block him, tensed and waiting, but somehow he scores anyway.
“Wow,” says Zayne. “You weren’t kidding.”
I cringe. “Told you.”
We play for a grand total of five minutes before victory is his. And when he wins at the next three different games we play, I start to see a pattern form. “You know, I’m not sure this place is what it’s cracked up to be after all.”
Zayne smirks. “Don’t be a sore loser.” He pulls me in by the hand and kisses me. I shut my eyes, letting my hands slide out of his and up the front of his shirt until they reach his face.This is so much better than playing stupid games, I think, and start topull away to tell him that, when I see someone staring hard at us over Zayne’s shoulder.
My posture goes rigid.
Carlton.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“What are you doing here?” I blurt the words before I can stop myself. Zayne frowns at me before realization makes him turn around and face Carlton.
“This is a public place.” Carlton’s tone is clipped, his expression cold and stony. “I can be here if I want to.”
“You’re just…playing games alone atNickel City?” There’s a barely contained laugh in Zayne’s voice, like he finds the situation hilarious. I squeeze his hand in warning.
