Tale of Redemption

Chapter 3 : Competition

We walked back down the street casually, not wanting to freak out any of the old folks living nearby. Who knows what they thought of us, besides being misfit, adolescent people. 

"Took you long enough. Did you drive to San Francisco and back just for Starbucks?" Said my boyfriend, but no one else knew.  He was wearing a Green Day t-shirt with black skinny jeans, his hair covering his eyes.  He probably could tell I was dying to hug him, but holding it back. To suppress my desire,  he stood up and squeezed me with a side-hug.  "If you're not careful, this one will fly to New York and back just to get the new Gucci purse, or whatever..." 

"Ha, ha. Very funny, said the person who would do anything to meet the creator of Death Note." I chimed back in.  Cleo was leaning against Neol, her chin on his shoulder with wide eyes filled with the void of patience.

"Can we go yet? I'm dying to play some Dance Dance Revolution, I've practiced all week!" She whined, stamping her feet on the pavement.  "Alli's going insane, see? She's waving at strangers in cars now because YOU two won't stop bickering about your first-world problems!"

That was it, I couldn't take it.  Bursting out laughing, everyone else did too, leaving Cleo to stand there gawking at us. 

"Seriously?! Come on, real mature!" The short girl sputtered, now in a tempest.

Alli cooled off casually, sighing, but it almost sounded like a breath of relief.  Who was she waving to...?

"We'd better head out, though. Food court starts Sriracha Saturday at 2! Fifty percent off, woot woot!" Neol whispered excitedly.  I could get excited about food, but this guy was a little too extreme for hot sauces. 

Since it was almost time for lunch, we stopped for some food at the food court before hitting the arcades and comic shops. 

"Ooh, it's a brave knight with a chicken salad and a juice box of coconut water! How healthy!  But, this I see, tis a . . . sweet roll?! How dare thee, you shall taketh an arrow to thy knee." I mimicked in my best Greybeard voice to Real.  He looked unamused.  I would be too if someone did an "Arrow to my Knee" joke to me. 

"You better watch out, Real, you know she's a level 183 female dark elf mage and beast archer! She's gonna mess you up, Imperial!" Neol snickered.  

.                       .                       .

"You can do it! Almost there! Don't give up!"  We all shouted at Cleo, as she battled against her greatest opponent—Annie.  If you had ever met Annie, she was the most competitive soul that ever breathed.  One time, she broke my arm just because I beat her at a game of Pokemon.  She still never gave me her Machamp. I didn't really want it anyway.

"YOU'RE GOING DOWN, KERLER! JUST WATCH ME!" Annie grumbled.

"B-But, I have to watch the screen for my moves..." Cleo whispered.

"I DON'T CARE!" 

The last beat of the song played and Cleo had gotten an A+. Annie, a dismal A-.  I could literally still imagine Annie's defeat, from the piercing shriek that sounded like a hawk, to the pounding of her fleeing steps out the arcade doors.  I don't know if Annie ever tried playing a match of another game with us ever.  

"I think that deserves..." Neol started chanting.

We replied, "A what?"

"An Orange Leaf!" Everyone shouted.  We stormed out of the arcade, not even bothering to take our tokens with us.  Cleo just broke the all-time record she held on that machine in the mall, so it wasn't like we needed to play anything else. Dance Dance Revolution was life.