Fifty Days Before [#Wattys2015]

The Big Tree

In total, I take an amount of 500 monopoly dollars from Grayson.

He forces a reluctant sigh, watching as the 500 dollar bill joins the rest of its kind. 

"It's not fair! I always land on the yellow block, but you never land on park lane! The blue block is the most expensive one, and I built a hotel there!" He whines. 

I grab the dices on the center of the board, shaking them inside my hands. While crossing my toes since my fingers were too occupied, I let the dice drop onto the board.

"One... two... three... four... Whew."

I pass the go, which is one square after Grayson's property. 

"Damn it, I quit," he mutters, putting his money into the monopoly box back in order. 

I take a handful of monopoly dollars before tossing them into the air, imagining as if it were raining real money.

"I won!" 

A colored, rectangular paper lands on Grayson's face. He peels the money away and starts collecting the rest.

"Not if I collect more than you."

I slap his hand away, watching more dollars scattered on the floor. 

"That's not fair, you already said you quit!" I say defensively. "Great, now we have to clean up your room again."

Grayson shrugs in response. "Eh, it wasn't my idea to throw the monopoly dollars around." 

I stay silent, picking up as many of the money into my hands. If it were real money, I'd be so rich that I wouldn't have to wait till my birthday to go shopping for clothes and books. I could simply read the PDFs online, but I swear if I spend any more time in front of the laptop screen, I'd have to wear glasses for real, and I'm not talking about nerd glasses or fake ones.

"Want to play another round?" I suggest.

He makes a face, before slamming the lid on top of the box and sending the box skidding on the floor. 

I bite my lower lip, somehow surprised that the content of the box didn't spill around the ground. "Uh... okay, what do you want to do instead?" 

Grayson shakes his head, keeping his soft gaze fixed at the repairmen outside. 

To my surprise, it's rather therapeutic to watch the workers do their best on fixing Grayson's window, ignoring the sweltering heat coming from the sun. 

"Why don't we write something together?" 

I nod to the idea. "That doesn't sound too bad. For awhile there, I thought you were going to suggest on something random, like a picnic or something." 

He lets out a genuine laugh, and it feels good to hear one come out of him. I don't know what he found amusing out of the statement, but it doesn't matter. 

"Oh, sure. We could use my blanket as a mat, make some lemonade and sandwiches, and sit under the big tree in my backyard." 

I couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but when our eyes met, we both told each other the same thing:

"That doesn't sound like that bad of an idea."

Sometimes I wonder how people could come with an idea out of the bluest blue. Literally, how did the word 'picnic' suddenly cross my mind?

"Wait, are we really doing this?" I question as Grayson stands up, offering me a hand.

I take it and pull myself up, watching as he gathers the white blanket into his arms.