After the unfortunate events during the shooting of the 1984 pepsi commercial Michael befriends an unlikely girl in the hospital. And there starts the beginning of their very tumultuous journey.
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July 3, 1984
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I pushed the grape-flavored sucker to the side of my jaw, moving the knob of the Pacman game feverishly as I stared intensely at the screen.
My heart was thumping in my chest as the DJ's music played in background mixed with the sound of loud teenagers, crying kids, and roller skates hitting the wooden floor, but the loud sound of the game music held my attention as I tried desperately to beat my high score.
I was dominating the game, getting the Pac-dots all while missing the colorful ghost that floated around trying to take me out. I made it to the corner and engulfed the power pellet turning the colorful ghost all blue, so I could consume them, collect the rest of the Pac-dots, and move on to the next level.
One, two, three-and I was itching to get the fourth ghost, but a body collided into mine letting out a breathless "Zaria!" and distracting me.
My head snapped in Trophy's direction before turning back to the screen. The blue ghost was no more and now the pink ghost, the last one on the screen that I wasn't able to eat, was right on my tail. In a split second it chomped down on me, that annoying music that indicated "you're a freaking loser"annoyed me immediately and I smacked the side of the machine.
I turned on my skates to face Trophy. "I almost beat my high score and I was close to leveling up!"
"I told the DJ your song request and-" She stopped as we both looked up at the speaker above us when the instrumental beginning of the song I'd been wanting to hear all night played. She smiled down at me. "Last one to the rink buys the next round of pizza!"
Trophy pushed off from the Pacman game, getting a head start. She knew how much I hated skating across the thick carpet of the rink, but to refrain from buying the next slices of pizza I took off like my hair was on fire, practically leaping off the step and onto the wooden floor, while simultaneously plucking my very good and not-even-close-to-being-done sucker in the trash.
