Jack of Clubs (BxB)

27: Reminded Of The Nostalgic Feeling

"You definitely are." It wasn't even comparable.

With that we got out of the car and walked into the arcade. It was lit up by bright and colorful LEDs, washing the room in hues of purple and green. It smelt of pizza, and the laughter of excited children echoed throughout the building. There were a few people closer to our age, but most of them were far younger. I wasn't shocked by that.

Sam was the one who paid, and he wouldn't take no for an answer. So I allowed him to choose the first game we played as some form of fairness. He chose a cup pong game simply because it was the closest. However, to both of our dismay, I ended up winning. That caused Sam to quickly divert us towards other games instead.

Despite Sam winning at just about everything else we played, he continuously returned to cup pong, which I — by some divine intervention — continuously won. I was quickly learning that Sam was a very competitive person who couldn't comprehend the concept of someone being better than him at something.

After over an hour of this cycle and my cheeks physically hurting from all of the laughing, we finally decided to call it and move onto the next thing. We went up to the prize counter, where we proceeded to argue for an embarrassing amount of time while the man working just stared at us with a dead expression. I didn't blame him. There was nothing fun about watching us bicker over who got what prize.

Fortunately, a group of kids came up behind us during this and I made the genius suggestion of just giving our tickets to them. Sam couldn't contend with that, so our argument finally reached its end and we were freed from the shackles of young-couple-things.

Next came bowling. There were a few times I went bowling as a kid, but it wasn't much of anything. I just trailed behind Sam as we were given our bowling shoes and assigned to a lane. It was off to the far side, the room also bathed in colorful lights and filled with mostly families or groups of teenagers. Next to our lane was one of those families, consisting of three hyper boys of varying ages and one quiet, polite little girl. The parents were just trying to keep track of them all.

505 by Arctic Monkeys could be heard melding with the echo of bowling pins being knocked down and people cheering. I slipped the bowling shoes onto my feet, being reminded of the nostalgic feeling.

"Why are these shoes the ugliest thing to ever exist?" I thought aloud as I looked over at Sam.

He peered down at them, brow furrowing. "Maybe they want to humiliate us."

"No wonder you wanted to come here." I mused.

"What?"

"You're a masochist, remember?"

Sam stuck his tongue out, standing up to put our names into the monitor. "I don't know how I feel about the fact that our relationship is now defined as the pessimist and the masochist."

"I don't make the rules."

He proceeded to put his name in first, making it appoint to question why my name had to be longer than three letters. To which I pointed out the fact that his full name was the same length as mine, but he merely brushed that fact off with a brisk semantics. That was how my name became Soy on the monitor, since Sam was beyond amused by it. I wasn't, but I couldn't deny the fact that he looked so damn pleased with himself. Which was sweet. I was utterly whipped.

The first few rounds flew by all too quick. It was a whirlwind of excitement, cheering, and dumbfounded expressions as I somehow managed to get a disturbing amount of strikes and spares. For someone who had only ever been bowling a few times, it made no sense that I was doing as well as I was. Sam didn't believe me when I promised him that I barely even knew what I was doing. It quickly reached a point where I was wiping the tears of laughter out of my eyes every time that it was my turn to score.