Next Time (J)

This was more than a year ago while I was out with some friends. We’d heard about this arcade—Gamer Paradise—and decided to check it out. Our group approaches the doors, but there’s a line to the end of the block to get in. Apparently, some ‘superstar’ was in there—who knows who that could be?

Ow! I was joking, Gracie!

Anyway, we finally make it through, get our game cards, and start working. Eventually, I’m getting tired, so I move to one of those basketball shooting games when this lady walks up to me. Ivy, I am not exaggerating when I say she was the most beautiful thing in a hundred-mile radius. Her hair was tied back, those eyes focused straight on me, and honestly?

It was kinda cute.

Awesome! Badass! Stop smacking me!

So we played a few games together, and I just kept beating her. I watched as she—again and again—suggested we move to a new game, got her ass handed to her, then pulled me to another one. I honestly think I got more of a workout at that arcade than any gym.

“I’ll get you next time,” she kept saying.

“Alright,” I would tell her, “but I’m still going to ream your ass.”

And she would scoff at me like ‘you’ll see’.

I never saw.

Ack! Mercy!

I mean, how could I see anything over how bright she shined?

Wha-hey! I’m complimenting you!

So eventually, I ran out of money on my card, and I decided to call it quits. Then, she grabs my hand in a grip tighter than my budget, looks me in the eye, and smirks.

“One more round. I win, and you’ll buy me dinner.”

“Alright,” I said. “But if I win, you give me your number.”

She leaned in close, making me freeze. I half expected her to slap me, honestly. It wouldn’t be the worst thing a woman has done to me for simply breathing in her direction. But she just trailed her hand up to my cheek, held it. . .

And flicked me on the nose.

Sky, why are you hiding? It was adorable.

We went to get our cards filled, and she pushes me aside to pull out some real shiny credit card. By this point, I start noticing the crowd around her. Other guys were giving me death glares, their shirts saying SkyMales or some shit, and I remembered my sister talking about some pop star in our area.

So I turned to her and I said: “Oh, shit. Are you Grace Skybain?”

She fucking freezes, looks around, and nods. I don’t know what she expected me to say. ‘Wow, I can’t believe I get to meet a fellow human being on this planet dominated by such a species!’ I mean, I had already spent a while getting to know her, so she just seemed normal to me.

So I just shrugged. “Cool.”

Her face went hot sauce red as she sputtered.

What? It did!

“Does that not matter to you?”

“That I finally know your name?” I frowned. “It’s nice.”

“You don’t want a picture? An autograph?”

I raised a brow. “No?”

“But I’m a pop star!”

I fucking lost it. Keep in mind, I knew this was getting to her. Not in a bad way or anything. It wasn’t like she was all ‘why don’t you want a picture with me? I’m better than you!’ But it was so adorable to see her confused that I couldn’t help myself. So I decided to push a bit further. I walked up to her this time, grabbed a loose piece of hair, tucked it behind her ear, and said:

“You don’t need to be famous just to impress me, sweetheart.”

“And that’s how it happened.” I leaned back, waiting for the reaction.

Other than getting assaulted by my tomato of a girlfriend, I thought that’d gone pretty well. I wasn’t the most adept at storytelling. I had tried to get into it with Grace, explaining my top games. By the end, she had even less of an understanding of the franchise though, to be fair, even fellow fans struggled with it.

Ivy was dying on her end. “So you guys started out as rivals?”

“No,” I clarified, “We started out as friends. The competition was just a bonus.”

“But you asked for her number?”

I scoffed. “I would have to be the biggest moron on the planet to not at least try to keep her in my life.”

“Aww,” Gracie said, winking, “you fought for me.”

When my Sky got overwhelmed by my sexiness—her words, not mine—she went into full offensive mode. It was as if her mind went ‘if I’m going down, you better believe I’m taking you with me’. My personal favorite time was when I’d bought her flowers before we were dating. She’d gone so red when I placed one behind her ears, and before I knew it, the rest were in mine. I would’ve done something to stop it, but I was too busy appreciating the view.

“Down, little minx,” I whispered to her. “The cameras can’t take your cuteness.”

I was rewarded with a slap to the chest, and we wrestled for a minute. I knew I had the dumbest grin on my face, but it was hard to give a shit when my Dancer looked just as happy. If I had known interviews were this fun, I wouldn’t have hesitated. I felt more comfortable in that chair than any day at my own work.

“I’m glad you two are having fun,” Ivy said, but I must have still been distracted, because it sounded like her voice was strained.

Concerned, I let Grace back into her seat. Shit, was I screwing this up for her by acting like this? But she was giggling just a second ago. Was this going to get her in trouble? No, if they had a problem, they should tell us. It’s not on us at this point.

“So,” Ivy cleared her throat, “have the recent events caused any strain on your relationship?”

Had she gone blind in the past five minutes. Just before this, we had been playing around like we always did. What about that said ‘yeah, we’re really struggling’? How could she not see that we were fine? Then I looked at Grace and realized she was just as irritated by this question.

“No,” I said. “Actually, we’re doing great. Or I am, at least. Grace?”

“I’m always great when I’m with you.”

That was so smooth I almost slipped on my next words. “And thanks to that asshole, I get even more time with her.”

“So you two are living together?”

Grace nodded. “It was kind of awkward. I mean, it wasn’t like he never came over, but the whole reason why it had to happen was just. . . weird.”

“So do you guys just hang out all day?”

Excuse me?!

“No, we do our own thing sometimes.” I couldn’t help adding the next part. “We do have jobs, you know.”

Ivy frowned. “But you haven’t been at yours in a while.”

“Well, yeah,” Grace said. “Kind of hard to when assholes won’t leave him alone.”

It was definitely time for a topic change. I knew my girlfriend, and the look on her face meant a war was brewing. It was like a few weeks ago when she had picked up those pebbles. If I hadn’t calmed her down, the paparazzi would have met the firing line that is my girlfriend when she’s mad.

I squeezed her hand. “But it’s because of said assholes that I get to live with the love of my life.”

Thankfully, Ivy got the hint. “Have you thought about having kids?”

That one was personal with a side of beef well into private territory for me. Given the way things had been turning for this discussion, Ivy Bangle was pretty far down my list of who to talk about that with. I hadn’t even talked about it with Grace, something I remembered very quickly as I saw how red her face was.

“Not yet,” I said, trying to save the conversation.

“Do you have pets?”

I shook my head. “For now, no.”

“What about cats?”

I saw my Sky tense and had the worst feeling in my stomach. It was like the dinner with my parents plus the day I got doxxed in some crappy all-in-one package. Gracie wasn’t a cat person. I wasn’t sure why, but I knew it had something to do with—

“Mittens,” said Ivy Bangle. “I was just wondering how she was doing.”