Page 22 of The Arrangement
“Holy shit!” Rome stepped in front of me and threw out his arms like he wanted to hug the entire complex. “Where have you been my entire life? This is freaking amazing!”
I rolled my eyes and followed him as he walked down the aisles, checking out the various pinball machines. Some were newer, but there were others that were truly vintage as they advertised movies that were well over fifty years old.
“You’re here every day, aren’t you? Don’t lie.” Rome flashed me a giddy look before turning his gaze to the games.
“Actually, this is only the third time I’ve been here. Work keeps me busy, and I forget it exists.”
A low scoffing noise escaped Rome. “That’s crazy.” He stopped at aStar Wars–themed pinball machine. He settled behind the machine and tested the flipper buttons on the side. With a giggle, he drew out the plunger and fired the iconic silver ball down the shooter lane. It bounced off bumpers. Lights flashed and bells rang as the ball zoomed around the board. Rome tapped the buttons again and again, launching the ball to the top, narrowly avoiding the holes. But within a couple of minutes, he mistimed a flipper, and the ball disappeared into the hole at the end of the board.
“Oooooh, that was fast,” I mocked. “Have you not played in a while?”
Rome shot me a dirty look. “I’ll have you know this is the first time I’ve ever played pinball. I’ll get better.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yeah, yeah. You talk a big game, but can you back it up? You seem pretty happy to watch me work my magic, but can you play?”
I glanced about and chose theJaws-themed machine on his right and started playing. Four minutes later, I was still on my first ball, and my grin spread across my entire face. Sure, I might have been to this place two other times, but on each visit, I’d spent the better part of three hours playing pinball. It was a fucking blast. The timing of hitting the button just right to send the ball soaring into a bumper, combined with the frantic bells and lights every time your score flew higher, was a rush that I’d not felt since our childhood when we’d played countless hours of video games.
“Okay, whatever. You’ve had more practice than me,” Rome grumbled as he leaned over to check my score. “I’ll catch up.”
“I’d love to see you try,” I taunted as a cackle left me.
We lost ourselves for the next hour to the pinball machines. We played a bit where we were and then migrated to other machines, trying to find that perfect spot like a slot-machine junkie searching for that hot one begging to pay out. Sometimes an entire aisle separated us. Suddenly, I’d look up to find Rome on the machine beside mine. A handful of other players moved around the games, but the small crowd was to be expected on a Wednesday night. My first visit had been on a Friday night, and the building had been insanely crowded.
“Hey,” Rome called. “Let’s grab something to eat. Afterward, I’ll challenge you to Skee-ball.”
“In a sec. My ball is still in play,” I muttered.
My so-called date edged closer. “Come on. I’m hungry.”
“Go order something. You’re an adult.”
“But this is a date,” Rome whined in my ear. “You have to go with me.”
I opened my mouth to argue with him, but I didn’t get the chance. Rome stepped even closer and bumped his hip against mine, throwing off my rhythm so that I mistimed the flipper. The silver ball sort of blooped off the end and fell out of play.
“Dick!” I shouted, shoving his shoulder hard.
Rome snickered and caught my wrist, pulling me toward the front of the building, where they’d set up a bar area that served drinks and food. “It’s fine. You weren’t down to your last quarter. Plus, I’m starved. I need to keep up my strength if I’m gonna kick your ass at Skee-ball.”
“You haven’t changed in twenty years. You’re still an annoying little shit,” I complained.
My former friend glanced at me over his shoulder and flashed a broad grin as if he realized exactly how frustrating he was and reveled in it. At the counter, Rome ordered a medium pepperoni pizza for us to split and a beer, while I requested an unsweetened iced tea. He whipped out his card before I could even get my wallet out of my pocket.
“Hey!” I growled, lunging to shove his card away from the cashier. “You’re not supposed to pay.”
“You paid to get us in here. I can pay for dinner,” he argued, while moving his arm to keep it out of my reach but still offer the card to the teenager taking our order.
“No! You can’t.”
“Of course I can.” Rome cackled.
“No. You’ll say it doesn’t count.”
The asshole groaned. “It still counts, even if I pay for the pizza.”
The teenage girl giggled and plucked the credit card from Rome’s fingers. “Oh my God, you guys are so cute. Have you been dating long?”
