Out of My League

Chapter 13 (Izzy)

I quirk a disbelieving eyebrow, "You created your own avatar on the video game? Why?"

He laughs, patting the spot on the couch next to him, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

I plop down on the couch cushion, "Try me."

"Well, I was automatically on there when I downloaded the game," he stops talking for a few seconds to strike someone out, his tongue protruding from his mouth in deep concentration, "But I didn't think it looked like me, so I re-created myself and started from the minor leagues."

I tip my head back and laugh, "You did not."

"I did," he nods, laughing along with me, "Would you not create yourself if you didn't like what the designers of the game did?"

"I don't think I would."

"You would," he assures me, "We all would."

"Let me see the original."

We'd been hanging out more and more frequently in the past few weeks, though there'd been no kissing and neither of us had used the word 'date' to describe the two of us spending time together.

I'm starting to wonder if, maybe, the word would never be used at all, but as long as I get to spend time with Noah, I'll take it.

It's a small victory.

After a brief sigh and a mocking eye roll, he saves and exits his game and pulls up his original avatar.

The moment I see it, I burst into laughter.

Noah chuckles at my reaction, "See what I mean? It looks nothing like me."

"That's not why I'm laughing," I manage.

"What?" He asks, "You don't actually think that looks like me, do you?"

"He looks exactly like you," I continue to laugh, "I think that's why you hate him so much."

"What? Because he's uglier than I'd like to think I am?"

"That's not what I'm saying," I finally manage to put a temporary pause on my laughter to say that, but, at the dumbfounded look on his face, it starts up again.

"Don't get me wrong," I say once I've stopped again, "The man that you created looks like you, too, but that man doesn't not look like you."

"We'll agree to disagree," he shakes his head in silent laughter, "I'm offended that that's what I look like in real life. There's no wonder I have confidence issues."

"Stop."

"It's true," he chuckles, shaking his head, "I will never look at myself in the mirror again because all I'm going to see is this oaf here."

My chest actually hurts from laughing so hard. Silent, humor-filled tears streak down my face.

I'm not sure how long it's been since I've laughed this hard over a conversation with someone.

"Alright," Noah says abruptly, "I'm logging off before you start to think my man-made avatar is more attractive than I am."

He presses a few buttons and his screen returns to the boring, log-in face it was on when I'd first entered his house.

"I'm hungry," he says, "You down to get something to eat?"

I clamp down hard on my bottom lip to keep from laughing any longer than I already have.

"I'm always down to eat," I say around a smile.

"Great," he pushes himself up from the couch, offering me a hand, "What do you want? Chinese? Mexican? Italian? A cheeseburger?"