Page 8 of Gamers' Omega
I nodded then floated from table to table, helping to gather pieces and put them away. Within a few minutes, all the games had been placed on the cart and the few remaining people were saying their goodbyes.
“Did you have fun?” Freddie asked as I fell into step with the four of them as we left the store.
I grinned. “I haven’t found a good place for games in several years. Tonight’s vibe was just what I was looking for.”
Ian draped himself over my shoulders, which he somehow managed to make not awkward—despite the fact that we were walking. “So does that mean that we’ll see you here again?”
I laughed. “Jealous that I spent all night at Beck’s table?”
“Always,” he replied with a fake pout in his voice.
The temperature dropped as we rounded the corner near the doors, then I stopped short as I got a glance out the glass.
“Hey!” Ian protested as he stumbled behind me. Then, a second later, “Oh, shit.”
Cones of yellow light illuminated a thick blanket of snow and near-whiteout conditions.
“This…” I squeaked, “is more than my weather app predicted.”
“Are you going to be ok getting home?” Freddie asked.
I swallowed, then nodded. “I’ll just take it slow.”
“Oh-kay,” Tony replied, drawing out the word with an unsure tone to his voice.
I squared my shoulders and strode toward the doors. I’d driven in snow before. Maybe not that much, but all I needed to do was be careful.
The guys chatted behind me, but I tuned them out as I tried to prepare myself for the drive home. I had plenty of gas so I wouldn’t have to worry about stopping. The streets were all well-lit, and I figured most people would be off the roads.
I was almost to the door when I heard my name. I turned to see Freddie jogging to catch up.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Gimme your phone.”
I blinked, pulled my phone from my pocket, unlocked it, and handed it over. “Umm… ok.”
He swiped the screen for a moment, then handed it back. The screen showed him as a new contact.
“Text me when you get home,” he said. “How long would the drive take if it wasn’t snowing?”
“About… twenty minutes?” I guessed as I opened my texting app and sent him a message. “There, now you have my number.”
Freddie nodded. “Given how bad it is, I’ll give you at least an hour and a half before worrying.”
I blanched. “D-do you really think it’s that bad?”
He glanced out the window. “Yeah.”
I swallowed. “O-ok. I’ll text when I get home.”
“Thank you.”
I made sure my coat was zipped, then pushed the door open.
Frigid air blasted my face, making me shiver.
“Damn, that’s cold!” Beck complained behind me. “Was this storm supposed to be this bad?”
