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18 December 2005
SUNDAY
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[y/n]'s pov
𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 of the air hockey railing, I quickly manoeuvre the striker to jab the puck towards the goal on the opposite end, the circular piece of plastic flying across the smooth surface of the table.
The puck violently rammed into the railing multiple times, until my opponent caught it, sending it back towards my end.
Chewing at my lip, I catch the puck under my striker, halting all movement. I try to calm all my senses, attempting to remove all sounds of people playing other games and the arcade music, as I focus on the target.
I take a moment to glare towards the opposition, before lining up the puck, flicking it directly into the goal.
The air hockey machine let out a loud buzzing sound, and I throw my hands up to release a triumphant shout.
"A-huh! Suck on that, Rindo!" I call over, and he stuck his middle finger up in response.
"Good job!" Ran compliments, moving over to give a double high five.
Rindo grumbles, while I gave a winning grin, proud of the state of the scoreboard being 12 to 11 – giving me the overall victory.
"That win was a long time coming," I comment, continuing to rub it in Rindo's face.
"That's because you sucked," Rindo retorts, reminding myself of the many times I took him on in air hockey, only to loose.
I click my tongue, "that's because you always tried to cheat – aiming the puck at my fingers," I state, folding my arms, "surprised you never broke any bones."
Instead of denying the accusation of cheating, Rindo just gave a devious smirk.
"Oooo– those annoying kids are finally done with the basket balls, and I need a rematch from last time," Ran suggests, directing his challenging grin towards me.
