My Wish Upon A Star

Chapter 5 - Opening Your Heart Instead of Your Legs

Chapter 5

Opening Your Heart Instead of Your Legs

“If I could fuck anyone in the video game universe it would be Master Chief in Halo,” Abbie told me, her mouth full of chow men noodles.

I chocked a little on my water. “Master Chief? You do know we never see his face and he’s always in this Iron Man look alike suit?”

With the way my best friend looked at me, I knew I had just said something wrong. She was staring at me with eyes and mouth wide open—her mouth was still full of noodles so it was kind of gross. “First, his suit looks nothing like Iron Man’s, and second, two words—Samus Aran.”

“So what,” I shrugged, “there was a blonde babe under the metal suit, and yeah, she can contort herself into a ball so she must fuck like a tiger. But that’s Metroid, not Halo!”

“Doesn’t matter.” Abbie answered, shaking her head stubbornly. “If he’s got the move on the battlefield, I’m sure he’s got the move in the bedroom. And think about having that sexy voice, barking commands,” she swooned. “I mean just watch that damn dude—he’s a cybernetically enhanced supersoldier. He’s got more moves than Jagger, I can bet my lucky panties on it. Honestly, ugly or not, I’d fuck him silly.”  

My best and probably only friend, aka Abbigail Cohen, was a video game enthusiast—okay enthusiast was putting it mildly. She actually worked as a game programmer. She finished studying.

 “You have issues.” I shook my head and karate chopped my eggroll. “I’d fuck Nathan Drake from Uncharted,” I trailed and added, almost as an afterthought, “I’d touch myself looking at the cartoon face actually. He’s like the male version of Lara Croft.”

Abbie threw the card box she had been holding, chopsticks and all. “Come on!”

“What?” I held out my hands in a peace gesture. “He travelled everywhere, he’s well spoken, and just look at his pipes. He’s a graphic god.”

My best friend huffed at me, and picked up her food again. “I prefer Chris Redfield,” she added thoughtfully.

“Chris Redfield? Please,” I snorted.

“What, he’s got as much sex appeal as Drake but at least he kills zombies. And he’s all protective of his sister so you know he’s gonna be intense in bed.”

What kind of friends did I have and why did I even wonder about why I was so messed up? “And how do you form that conclusion?”

“I just do,” she shrugged.

I shook my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“His biceps do all the talking.” Abbie tried tucking her missing long hair behind her ear, an old habit she had that was useless now since she had cut her long mane—she said it was too much work. The short brown hair worked well with her facial bone structure even if she had an atrocious haircut. If all hell broke loose and she ever decided to do something with herself, she could actually be pretty hot. But for now, she just sported geek glasses, a butch haircut, boyfriend cut jeans, tattered loose long sleeved Star Wars t-shirt, a scarf around her neck that my grandmother probably would have liked for herself, Vans shoes, the kind without laces that my grandfather probably would have liked for himself, no make-up, and ragged bitten finger nails.

“You’re shameless.”

“Look who’s talking.” She pointed at me with her chopsticks. “You just like Drake because Uncharted 2 is the only game you’ve ever been able to actually finish.”