HOW I LOST YOU

CHAPTER THREE

Chapter Three

The front bell on the door of the Splatterfest entrance rang, and a group of boys strutted inside. A gaggle of girls followed behind them, chattering loudly.

“You grab waiver forms and I’ll sign these guys in,” Kya called as the boys walked toward the counter.

I opened the drawer Dad had neatly labeled in his perfect printing. Nothing was misfiled or lost at Splatterfest. The boys lined up to sign in and I handed out forms. Their groupie girls huddled behind them. I recognized a couple girls from school, but they were younger and I didn’t know their names. After a circle whisper-fest, one of the girls stepped forward. “Aren’t you Kya Kessler?” she asked.

Kya glanced up and smiled. “That’s what they tell me.”

The girl beamed with reverence. “I thought so! You’re a senior next year, right?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Kya went back to writing but nodded.

“Cool.” The girl beamed happily. “I mean. I’ve seen you around. We’re going to be sophomores.”

Kya smiled. She was used to girl crushes from younger girls. I loved that she treated them nicely.

“We were hoping you’d be here. I mean. Playing. We heard you worked at Splatterfest. It’s so cool that you play paintball, but you’re still so pretty and stuff.”

“Thanks,” Kya said. “You’re pretty too.”

I thought the girl was going to pass out from happiness.

“You should try playing instead of spectating. You might love it, you know. ” She gestured at me. “Grace plays too. And we rock.”

The girl aimed some of her Kya worship at me. “I know. You’re Grace Black. It’s so cool.”

Famous by association. Story of my life. “Sign up,” Kya told her. I nodded agreement.

One of the guys put an arm around her shoulder. I recognized him. Steve Blender. Tourney player. Jerk.

“Nah. Stay in the bleachers, babe,” he said. “You look sexier in that outfit than you will in that one.” He pointed to a couple of guys going to the training room in their rental gear. He winked at her and then went off in the same direction.

I pretended to gag. “Cool story, bro,” I called.

“That guy is a perfect example of why you should learn to play paintball,” Kya said. “You can shoot him.”

“Grace, Kya!” James peeked his head out from the training room. “Your dad said you’ll need to gear up.”

Grace and I high-fived each other. The girls clapped and I heard squeals of “Awesome. They’re going to play.”

“He said not to mow down any newbs,” James called.

“A couple girls?” Kya said with a laugh. Kya’s fans giggled happily and set off for the viewing bleachers outside the roped arena.

“Use rental gear, not your own. Rental markers too.” Markers was the term for guns. James gave the giggly girls a pained look
and disappeared.

Kya and I changed and then went to the back counter and got out rental markers, pods, and paint for the players and spent a few minutes matching boys with guns and paint and answering questions.

James’s voice boomed out over the speaker system in the arena, explaining the rules for the first teams, while he roamed outside the netted playing area. I smiled at the Darth-Vaderish imitation. A while later, Dad called for Kya and me. When James started the countdown in his Darth Vader voice, I tucked my head down.