Short Stories

Paintball

"Get up, Tay. Time to go," a tall boy announces as he marches into the den, a set of clothing under one arm. I groan, recognizing the slight accent. I look up at the figure and tuck my pencil behind my ear. With the look this guy has, I just know he has something up his sleeve. He flashes a smile as he grabs my sketchbook from my hands.

"Go? Where?" I question, trying to reclaim my book, to no avail. My fingers close on air, when his hand had been there only seconds ago. I groan in annoyance, staring up at the guy who loved to irritate me.

The brunette drops an outfit in my lap as he tosses my sketchbook on the table. "Surprise," he states. "Go change."

I groan and push myself off the couch, making my way to my room to change. Trevor calls to my back not to take too long, and I mutter where he can happily stick that remark.

"Heard that," he responds. "And that was rude."

"Really now?" I feign surprise as I shut my door behind me.

In my room, I shed my tank top and yoga pants, tossing them to the floor. The outfit my best friend gave me consists of an olive green t-shirt, camouflage skinny jeans, and a black vest not unlike a ballistics vest. I shimmy into the jeans before slipping on the shirt and vest, admiring the fit of the outfit. When Trevor reminds me to hurry up, I yell for him to shut up as I lace up my black converse and join him in his truck.

The ride is long and full of flirting, teasing, and singing, but the destination is definitely worth it.

~*~

"You're dead, Black," I call, my voice ringing out in the bright arena, adjusting my grip on my gun. My aching knee forces me to move into a more comfortable position beside the barrier.

"Is that so, Essay?" his teasing voice calls from only feet away. He interrupted my Saturday and pulled me out to play paintball. It would be fun if it was cloudy. Not in this heat.

I pause, listening for his footsteps, before sprinting to the other end of the arena. A paintball makes contact with a board right behind me. I pause in my new hiding place to catch my breath then peek around and shoot in the direction of a brown mop of hair. A thud and splatter of purple on a tire. I missed. I grit my teeth.

The sun makes sweat pour down my face and my googles fog up. Why we're playing paintball in 90 degree temps, God only knows. Sighing and wiping my forehead, I study my surroundings. We decided on five shots and you're out. Trevor's clothes are currently stained with three blasts of paint. I have a splatter of red on my shoulder and green on my chest.

"Oh, Tre-ev," I call. "Where are you?"

I pace slowly to the next barrier, listening for his next move. However, as vigilant as I am, it comes by surprise. The paintball hits my vest in the middle of my back. I hear him chuckle over my swear. I turn just in time to see him duck behind a stack of tires.

I look down and study my dirty shoes as I formulate my next plan. Trevor and I have both been shot three times now. Two more for either of us and we're out. I'm in the corner of two large boards near the corner of the arena. Trev is behind a stack of tractor tires in the middle of the space. My best bet to get a shot on him is- Shit. He moved. Where did he go?

Ah, there he is. I see his shadow about five feet away. Treading carefully, I make my way beside him, my breathing the only sound. For mere seconds, we sit parallel, only about eight feet of dirt and hay between us. Unfortunately, he notices me almost immediately. The orange paintball nails my shoulder before I can blink.

I'm too surprised to even react as he flips his mask up to flash a smile, sprinting to his next hideout. Finally realizing how vulnerable I am in my current position, I run and settle myself at the base of a small pine tree, muttering, "Trevor fucking Black."

The sun continues to beat down relentlessly. The heat causes sweat to run down the back of my neck and coat my arms. Soaked strands of hair cling to my forehead and neck. What I wouldn't give for some water right now. But I must remain vigilant. I swear when I realize I can't see the boy's shadow anymore. My breathing movements pause as I listen for any indication he's near.

His heavy breaths sound as loud as gunshots in the silence. He's only feet away. When a stick breaks behind me, I whip around and fire. Trev swears and falls back in an attempt to dodge the shot. It just barely scrapes his shoulder. But it counts as a hit. One more and he's down. Unfortunately, the same rings true for me. If I let my guard down for only a moment, I'm done.

Just to tease the boy, I step out in front of him and offer my chest, smirking. He fires at me, and I sidestep it. "How could you miss?" I purr. "I'm right here."

With a growl, he gets up and runs at me. I take off, him right behind me. Our shoes pound the dirt as he chases me around the arena. I laugh out loud when I hear him trip over a root, swearing loudly. This gives me enough time to duck behind a wall and decide where to run next.

I finally spot a small tree nearby. When Trevor's footsteps come close, I take off towards the tree. In one fluid motion, I reach the tree and swing myself up into the branches. I stifle a laugh with a gloved hand when he reaches, and passes, the tree. It takes a few minutes, but he finally figured out where I am.

I try to find a spot to shoot him as he debates his next move. Finally, catching me by surprise, he climbs the branches, reaching my spot in no time. I'm too shocked to protest or bring my gun up. Trevor takes the opportunity to pull both our masks off and kiss me on the lips.

The 20 year old then hops back down and saunters off, taking the chance to fire a shot at my vest. It hits the middle of it, covering the fabric in green paint. I'm out. Dammit.

"Trevor Allen Black! You can't do that!" I shout after I've regained my composure.

"Just did," he says with a smirk. "I win."