Pinball

iv - ramps

dedicated to julli (stulala), because she loves divergent as much as i do (oh, that and also because she ships sheo)

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iv – ramps

You were already waiting for me in the arcade when I came down with my skating gear on Sunday; we had agreed to meet here instead of at the ramps, since you had to speak to my dad about something anyway.

“Ready to go?” you asked, grinning.

“Yup,” I smiled back, already feeling elated at the prospect of possibly spending the whole day with you again. We’d only met five days ago, but honestly? I already had it pretty bad for you if you asked me. 

//

“That’s $11.50 altogether,” the pretty cashier – Sammy, Cocoa’s owner’s 27-year-old daughter – said, and I handed her my money, after spending a few awkward moments digging around for it in the front pocket of my backpack. The amount of weird, random things – ranging from gum wrappers to spare screws for the arcade machines to different coloured bottle caps (don't ask) – I had shoved in there was getting out of hand.

We had agreed on a much-needed break after 3 gruelling but worthwhile hours of skating, and had headed over to Cocoa for lunch.

After some ten minutes of arguing, I’d managed to convince you to let me pay for our food. You weren’t particularly happy with that arrangement, though.

Sammy handed me my change and receipt. I thanked her and turned, weaving my way through the tables to find the one where you were seated.

You were absentmindedly drumming your fingers on the table top when I slid into my chair, looking a little peeved.

“I still think I should have paid for lunch,” you grumbled, sinking lower into your seat.

I rolled my eyes, “What’s so bad about me paying?”

“The guy’s supposed to pay!”

“Only on dates,” I scoffed. “And this isn’t a date.” But I wish it was.

“Then can I –”

“An iced chocolate with cream and a banana milkshake?” A waiter, who I recognised as Finn from my P.E class said, placing the drinks down on our table.

I grabbed the milkshake, eagerly taking a sip as you muttered a small ‘thanks’ to Finn, who looked at you curiously. I assumed he hadn’t seen you around before, much like the rest of Northfort.

When he walked away, you made a face at me and said, “Banana flavour sucks.”

I gasped, albeit rather melodramatically, and exclaimed, “Banana flavour is the best! Chocolate flavour sucks.” I added, imitating your expression of dislike.

“But banana flavour doesn’t even taste like banana, it just . . . ugh.”

“Chocolate is too sweet, I don’t know how you manage to –”

“I hate to interrupt your tête-à-tête, but here are the pies you ordered.” I looked up to see Sammy, holding two plates balanced precariously on one arm; the other held someone else’s order.

“Thanks Sam,” I said, smiling at her gratefully.

“No worries darling, enjoy,” she placed the plates on our table and walked off.

“Your taste in pies is brilliant, though,” you commented, looking at my dish approvingly. I had ordered the exact same one you did – chicken and leek.