The Player Game

Chapter 8

THIS IS IN THE WATTY'S.  VOTE, COMMENT, FAN! :3

Listen to the song on the side.  I think it sets the mood for the chapter.  Plus it's an epically awesome cover- it beats the original by miles and miles.  Anyhow, ENJOY!

By the time Aaron, Brad, Harry and Jerry reappear out of the ride exit, I am starving. My stomach rumbles loudly as a kid passes by with an uneaten hot dog in his chubby hands. It takes all of my self-control not to snatch it out of his hands and stuff it down my throat. 

Attempting to pull my gaze away from the hotdog, I somehow manage to knock into a large object. “Sorry,” I mutter out of instinct, looking to see who I knocked into. I am met with a regular black garbage can. 

My cheeks flush a bright crimson at my foolishness, as my eyes dart around to see if anyone has been watching my act of self-humiliation. 

Luckily for me, everyone is too busy either gawking at the rides or rushing to their friends. Jerry’s attention has been caught by a stall full of juggling balls, where he’s clumsily trying to toss four of them in the air at the same time. Everyone else is too busy watching him to notice my absence. 

Taking one last futile glare at the garbage can, I jog over to join them. I reach them just as the juggling balls go flying from Jerry’s hands and into the nearby fountain. They land at the top, tumbling down the three tiers. Some reach the bottom, floating across the frothy water. On the other hand, some remain in the tiers, a couple ending up stuck between the naked cupid statues at the bottom of the fountain. 

“Oops.” Jerry smiles sheepishly, as he realizes that there’s no fetching back the juggling balls without climbing into the fountain. He glances towards the stall owner guiltily. Luckily, the elderly man is preoccupied helping a young girl as she drops several juggling balls. 

As my gaze returns to the disarray of juggling balls, Aaron gets some sense. “Time to scram!” 

Before I know what’s happening, someone grabs hold of my hand and tugs me away from the stall. I stumble, tripping over my own feet with haste as I prepare myself to fall to the ground. Before I can plant face-first to the floor, the hand holding my own pulls me up tightly. 

I glance up to see Aaron’s cheerful face. His wet hair - still recovering from his drop on Freak's Falls - sends droplets of water flying behind us as we run down the busy street. His blue eyes are sparkling with mischief beneath his dripping fringe, which he flicks back as we run. I grin, feeling a surge of excitement as I realize the rebellious position we’re in. 

Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little. It’s not as though we’ve hijacked a car or anything, but this is my teenage life. I’m allowed to blow things out of proportion. 

I pull Aaron sharply to the side as we almost collide with a popcorn stand, stumbling at the sudden change of direction. I watch, my hand flying to my mouth, as the owner of the stall suddenly appears from around the side of the stall, his hands full of bags of popcorn. 

It all happens as if it’s in slow motion. Aaron bumps roughly into his side, his eyes widening on impact. The man topples backwards, arms flying in the air to help him balance. At the same time, the popcorn bags are thrown towards the sky, before it all comes showering down on top of us. 

My mouth drops open as we stop running. My hands instinctively reach out to stop the stall owner from falling backwards to the floor. Before I can get close enough to help, he lands on his buttocks, letting out a sharp yell. 

I look towards Aaron with a half-bewildered and half-guilty expression to see his own face mirroring mine exactly. I don’t know what it is in the World that makes these situations funny, but Aaron and I both feel it right now. A large grin spreads across my face, before I erupt into loud and breathless laughter. I can see tears forming in his eyes as he laughs along with me.  I could stay here all day in fits of laughter, but one movement on the ground catches my eye. 

“Why, you young kids! You stay right there and pay fo-” 

My eyes widen once again, as I grab Aaron’s hand roughly, tugging him to the side. “Run!” I yell. 

Before the stall owner can shout in protest, the both of us sprint off at full speed, leaving only raucous laughter in our wake - and, of course, a whole load of spilled popcorn.