Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 12

James looked at me then, his eyes soft behind his sunglasses. “You look really happy.”

I shrugged. “I think… I am.”

And for now, that was enough.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of colors, lights, and laughter. We tore through the theme park like kids on the last day of summer, no plans, no rules, just chasing whatever made us laugh the loudest.

🎢 Montage Begins 🎡

First stop: the bumper cars.
“Tim, you drive like a tito on EDSA!” Inez yelled as she slammed into him from behind.
“Excuse me, ma’am, this is tactical maneuvering,” Tim declared, spinning the wheel wildly.

James rammed into me from the side and flashed a smug grin. “Payback for calling me a sore loser.”
“Joke’s on you,” I grinned, “I drive worse in real life.”
We both laughed so hard we nearly got whiplash.

---

Next stop: the games.

Tim tried the “shoot the hoop” booth with exaggerated confidence.
“Watch and learn,” he said, adjusting his sunglasses dramatically.

He missed the first two. On the third, the ball swished cleanly through the net. The buzzer rang and the guy behind the counter reluctantly handed over a human-sized teddy bear.

Tim dragged it toward Inez. “For you, m’lady.”

Inez tried to act unimpressed but failed miserably. “Okay… that’s actually cute.”
She hugged the bear, then Tim, briefly, but it was soft and genuine. I pretended not to smile like an idiot.

---

Cut to: Drake holding a tiny plastic bag with a goldfish inside.
“I got it for you!” he said proudly to Corey.

Corey stared at the goldfish like it was an alien. “What am I supposed to do with this? Carry it in my pocket?”
We all burst out laughing. Even the goldfish looked unimpressed.

“You have to name it,” Inez said.
“Fine,” Corey sighed. “Its name is… Regret.”
“Regret the goldfish,” Tim nodded solemnly. “Iconic.”

---

Meanwhile: James, bless his heart, kept trying.

Ring toss? Miss.
Hammer strength game? Barely made the bell ring.
Balloon darts? He popped one... accidentally.
Each failed attempt got more dramatic than the last.

“I swear this game is rigged,” James muttered, squinting at the pyramid of tin cans.

“Sure,” I teased, “or maybe you just suck.”
He spun to me, mock-offended. “Excuse me, I am a proud varsity athlete.”

“Then you’d think your aim would be better.”

He tried again. Missed. Again.

By now, I was doubled over laughing. My stomach hurt. My cheeks were sore. And James, red-faced and flustered, was somehow the funniest and most lovable thing in this entire park.

“I give up,” he groaned, throwing his hands in the air.

“You didn’t win me anything,” I said in a fake pout.

He leaned closer, whispering like it was a secret. “But I made you laugh. That counts for something, right?”

I looked at him, sweaty, slightly sunburned, glasses tilted from bumping into something earlier, but still smiling like the world was alright, and nodded.

“More than something,” I said.

He grinned wider. “Good. 'Cause that’s all I’ve got.”

And honestly, it was more than enough.