game on | lucaya

f i f t e e n

revenge and reality

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"Wait, are you really suggesting we team up against Riley and Farkle?" Lucas asks, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Yes," I answer in a monotone, cocking my eyebrows. "Got a problem, Friar?"

"Yes, I have a problem. Riley, remember? Her Fangirl Mode?" he deadpans.

"I hate to break it to you, Friar, but we are her OTP and she would be absolutely delighted to see us pair up against them," I shrug my shoulders and huff out a mirthless laugh. "Besides, don't you want to take revenge on those chumps?"

"Yeah, we would be the dream duo, wouldn't we?" he chuckles.

But once he realises what he says, he slaps a hand over his mouth, his face warming up, reddening into a ripe tomato. "I-I didn't mean it like that. I meant it like we would plan the greatest revenge ever, not that you're not dreamy- wait! P-please forget that I ever said anything," he stutters, green eyes widening in embarrassment.

"Did Lucas Friar just call me dreamy?" I ask, grinning.

"N-no," he manages.

"Sure," I respond sarcastically, but my heart can't help but swell at the fact that he actually called me dreamy.

"Anywho, we have to start on the greatest revenge ever, don't we?" I drawl, my lips curling into a smirk.

"Please don't quote me," he sighs, cringing.

I cackle loudly, but I don't think I can ignore the small butterflies fluttering at the pit of my stomach.

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Farkle and Riley are out on another date and unfortunately for her, she told me all the details about her romantic little outing with Farkle.

Ice skating rink, 6pm, Saturday evening.

That gives us three days to plant the seed of our wonderful masterplan.

And I hope Riley and Farkle are in for a little splash.

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"Now why would the staff be stupid enough to allow two teenagers carrying a bag big enough to store a dead body into the ice skating rink?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Huckleberry, it's not nearly as big as that. There's only like, five of 'em in there. And why would you doubt my abilities? I'll have you know I'm very persuasive."

And of course a member of the staff approaches us. A small tuft of charcoal hair sits on his mostly bald head with a stern but tired look in his beady eyes and a forced smile stretching his pale lips. Dennis, according to his nametag.

"And what do you think you kids are trying to do?" he asks, sounding as exhausted as he looks.

"Well, hello Dennis. We're here as your customers," I state and for good measure, add, "We're here to use that ice skating rink behind you."

"I know what our customers are here for," he scowls. "But if you haven't booked a place at the rink, you aren't welcome here."

"Well, Dennis, what I'm going to tell you know will stay between us, okay?" I look around shifting and lower my voice to a whisper, cupping my hand at the side of my mouth and gesturing for him to lean down.

"We're here to celebrate our other friend's birthday and these are our party supplies!" I tell him.

He straightens his back and his eyes soften a little.

"A birthday party?" his raven eyes widen in surprise.

"Yeah, you don't want to ruin somebody's special day, would you?" I ask, pouting and sticking my bottom lip out.

""N-no! Of course not!" he says, stretching his lips into a slight smile.

Okay, now I kind of feel bad for having to ruin this guy's mood later when we destroy the entire ice skating rink later on.

"Thank you so much, sir!" I grin and skip along.

Everything is going according to plan.

So eventually of course the couple show up and they obviously don't notice us, not even after they've rented their ice skating shoes or gone into the ice skating rink.

Ah, yes, the perfect timing to carry out our plan.

Carefully, I unzip the bag and pull out a water balloon.

Everything after that seems to happen in slow motion.

I launch the projectile at the two targets and Lucas does the same. By the time they've noticed us, they're already soaking wet and we're already halfway to the exit.

My hand on Huckleberry's wrist as I drag him out. Our mingling laughter as we hear screams of horror and Dennis's shouts of rage. The sound of my sneakers hitting against the asphalt pavement.

So we run and run until we can't anymore, our breathing uneven, our faces red.

"Th-thanks for that," I grin and look up at him.

A light flash of pink in his cheeks as his lips part, shock especially visible on his features.

"That was one of the few moments that I've felt such exhilaration, so thanks," I explain, and his lips curl into a grin too.

"Thanks, I had fun too," he chuckles, but I don't miss the slight nervousness in the way he talked or the very tip of his ears going red.

So we walk home, side by side, my shoulder occasionally bumping into his arm, but every time I catch his eye, I feel my heart beating faster than it was when I was running just now and the butterflies resting at the pit if my stomach being sent into a flurry.

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a/n:

lucaya development!!!!