It's Called True Love [Randy Cunningham x Reader]

|| five ||

The pair, a tangled mess on the floor, freeze in place. Their bodies tense as Howard's words register. In the blink of an eye, Randy shoots up, spluttering as if he had resurfaced from water. His face burns bright with several hues of red as he pulls away from (name); as if to distance himself from the statement physically. "I'm—we're," his face grew hotter, as he averted his gaze, "she's—we're not dating!" (Name), whilst still flustered, was less so than Randy. "I'm the exchange student," she begins to explain, getting up and brushing off her pants, "you know, the kid coming to study in place of another student from your school?"

The look on his face seemed like he was processing the statement before his face lit up in recognition. "Oh, right." He says, nodding his head as if he understood. "Honestly, I thought you were gonna be a boy since you're staying here with this schoob." He jabs his thumb over to Randy, who was still incredibly flustered from the comment beforehand. After hearing 'schoob' he lets out a protesting, "Hey!", but his friend doesn't seem to take any notice. "The name's Weinerman, by the way," Randy's friend says, holding out a hand for (name), "Howard Weinerman."

"(Name) Russey," (name) beams, shaking his hand politely. "Whoa, like Mr Russey, the town creep?" Howard asks, eyes wide. Randy gives a confused look toward (name), too. "Heh, yeah," she chuckles nervously, scratching the back of her neck, "he's my uncle." The two boys share a shocked look, making (name) feel a little uncomfortable. She forgot that while not everyone would know of or remember her father, they sure as hell would know her uncle. "That's—that's not a bad thing, right?" She asks, a feeling of unease washing over her. The boys look back at her, noticing how uncomfortable she now looks and felt a little inkling of regret for even asking. Well, Randy felt remorseful; Howard didn't care all that much.

"Hey, no," Randy soothes, making his way over to her and pulling her into a sort of side-hug, "it's not a bad thing! Right, Howard?" He glares at Howard, trying to get him to agree that having the town weirdo for an uncle wasn't a bad thing, but Howard simply shrugs in response. "Eh, sure. Could be worse, I guess." Smiling softly at the attempt, (name) feels a little better. "I'll probably have to go visit him and my grandparents at some point," she fidgets with the sleeves of her trench coat, "but it can wait a while. How's about we go have some fun instead?" She beams, though a glance at her could tell you that she was just wanting to change the topic due to her unease with the topic.

"Good idea, we should go to the 'Hole," Howard chimes, looking excited, "really feel like some 'chos right now." It was (name)'s turn to look confused, furrowing her eyebrows. "What's the 'hole'? Is there some pit someone dug up?" Howard comes over to Randy and (name), cackling as he claps her shoulder. "Hilarious, Russey. 'Some pit', that's funny." He wipes away imaginary tears at the thought. "The 'Hole is just short for the Game Hole," he explains. "It's the town arcade," Randy adds on, a smug look on his face. "I'll have you know I have all the high scores." Hearing Randy's statement, Howard groans. "Can it, Cunningham. You don't have to rub it in." Grinning, Randy ruffles Howard's hair. "Oh, but I do, Howard. I do." (Name) giggles, amused by their sense of competition. "Any karaoke or D.D.R machines?" She asks hopefully, earning a confused look from the boys. "A what machine?"

"Dance Dance Revolution," she clarifies, "it's a rhythm game." She heads for the guest room, gesturing to the boys for them to follow her. "I love it a lot, but there's no way I can play in boots like these." She opens the door to the guest room—to her room and makes her way over to one of the suitcases, opening it to reveal a ton of shoes. "Oh right, I think we have one," Randy muses, tapping his chin as if in deep thought, "no one's been able to do well on it. Well, of course, except for me." He flashes a grin, (name) catching it in the corner of her eye as she grabs a pair of studded sneakers, rolling her eyes. "Just you wait, Randy, just you wait." After kicking off her boots and putting them to the side, she tugs on the sneakers, lacing them up quickly.