Page 51 of Fraternizing with the Enemy
“Acting on a stage is no dweebier than chanting cheers at a game.”
Now I couldn’t fight my nose scrunch. “I don’t know aboutthat?—”
“What makes it better, then? Plead your case.” He lifted his chin, looking at me like a judge on his stand. “Give me one reason why cheerleading is cooler than acting.”
It was another thing about Logan that opened my eyes. If a guy from our theater program came up and asked me out, what would I have said? Would I have laughed, just like the idea of a date in an arcade? Would Ihave looked down at it all, rolling my eyes, deeming it dweeby?
I would’ve. I knew that in an instant. I definitely would’ve.
Guilt rolled in like a wave, and I found myself wilting against the zombie game’s chair. “That’s a peak in high school mentality, isn’t it?”
Logan tipped his head to one side and then the other, pressing his lips together as if he were trying to fight a smile.
“Maybe you just need to change my mind,” I told him as we got to our feet, rubbing my arm. “You said yourself, you needed to stick around and give me my daily dose of dweeb. Thatiswhat this is all about, you know. Exposure therapy.”
Logan gave a light laugh, nodding. “I’ll work on it.”
We played a few other games—like Dance, Dance, Revolution, which I absolutely annihilated him at—and foosball—which led to another horrid defeat like the air hockey. We moved around the arcade slowly, our laughter mixing with the various games’ music. We ended up both sitting beside each other again at a NASCAR racing game, and Logan put quarters into both our machines.
“Winner takes the other person’s tickets and gets what they want from the gift machine?” he proposed, settling into his seat beside me. It was like a car style, with a driver’s seat and a passenger’s seat style, except we both had steering wheels.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re so sure you’re going to win?”
He gave a confident shrug, the lights of the game reflecting on theplanes of his face.
The race started off totally unfair. I don’t know what sort of cheat code Logan performed, but his car skyrocketed forward while mine petered off in a slow chug, immediately landing me in eighth place. I pressed down harder on the gas, but my stupid car took forever to pick up speed.
Logan leaned sharply to the left with his turn, his shoulder brushing mine. I expected him to jerk back, but he didn’t; it was almost like he didn’t notice. But I did.
Every centimeter of skin he brushed lit alive, instantly hyperaware. I could think of nothing other than the pressure of his body as it pressed against mine, and the race of my pulse became far, far more important than the one on the screen. Inexplicably, I thought of the way I sat on Kyle’s lap that day at Expresso’s.Jealous of you sitting on his knee? Of his hand on your waist?Logan asked.I’m surprised you couldn’t tell.
What would it have been like if it’d been Logan instead? Instead of leaning as far from Kyle as possible, leaning back into Logan’s chest?
My foot slipped on the gas, pressing down too hard on the turn, and I spun out.
Logan laughed as he straightened in his seat. “You’ll never beat me at this rate.”
I didn’t like his confidence.
So, without a word, I reached over and grabbed ahold of his steering wheel, yanking it sharply to the side. Much like I had earlier when he sabotaged my basketball shooting, Logan gasped in outrage, though it was quickly overshadowed by his laugh. He tried to pry my hand off, his fingers slipping against my skin. “Hey, hey! Cheater!”
I gave up on my own steering wheel and wrapped both my hands around his, twisting it back and forthuntil his car careened into the sidewalls. “You said I needed to be prepared to cheat,” I argued. “You’re the one who gave me permission.”
Despite the fact that my car was in dead last, Logan reached over and grabbed my own steering wheel with one hand, retaliating for no reason at all. I laughed hard as his arms tangled with mine, our bodies brushing in a way that was totally all fun and games—until we both looked at each other at the same time, and then suddenly itwasn’t.
Our laughter stalled like the deceleration of an engine, filtering off until there was just a ghost smile on his lips as he looked at me. My heart swelled in my chest, unnerved and electrified at the same time.
I’d never had my first actual kiss. I mean, I’d kissed Logan’s cheek, but lip-on-lip action? Not yet. If my choice was to never have my first kiss or have it be with a guy like Kyle or Ashton, I sure wasn’t choosing the latter. Of course I’d thought about what my first kiss would be like, but nothing beyond the idle wondering of when it would happen, if I’d see it coming.
My eyes drifted from Logan’s blue gaze to his mouth, and I found that ghost of a smile had completely disappeared.Will he kiss me?
Logan let go of my steering wheel and practically jerked back into his seat, clearing his throat. “I technically ended in seventh place,” he said, gesturing at the screen. “And you finished in eighth. So that means I win.”
My body was still reeling from the touches, from the almost kiss, that I’d forgotten what he was even talking about. “Oh. Right.” My eyes lingered on the red skin that was beginning to bloom at the collar of his shirt. Fightingthe urge to touch his skin there, I fished my tickets out of my front pocket, frowning at the small pile of orange paper I’d collected. “You’d better pick something nice.”
Except when we made our way to the ticket machine, we found a sign taped to the front of it.BROKEN.
I pressed a hand to my mouth, but it wasn’t quick enough to stifle the laugh that burst out.
