Arena Mode Read Free Page B

with a plasma bolt?”
    Peyton leaned forward on her elbows and gazed blankly across the counter. “Not to be rude, but I checked out of this conversation, like, five minutes ago.”
    I pulled the four hundred dollars from my back pocket and slid it across the counter. “This belongs to your brother. Tell Gavin to put the twenty-five cents for the bag on my tab.” I slipped my comic back into the Mylar and carefully sealed it shut.
    Peyton reached across the counter and wrapped her fingers gently around the back of my arm.
    “I’m sorry, I was just teasing,” she whispered with a hint of regret in her voice. “I know this means a lot to you.”
    “It’s not your thing,” I said. “It’s cool.”
    “No, it’s not ,” she replied emphatically. She straightened her back eagerly, as if she were a student about to address a professor. “You were sharing something important to you and I was rude. Let me make it up to you: I’ll take you to dinner, and you can teach me everything you know. We’ll talk about Han Solo blowing up the Death Star thingy ...” She paused for a moment and bit her lip, and then snapped her fingers as her eyes brightened. “Oh! And you can explain that big purple space guy who looks like an angry raisin. I think he’s an Avenger?”
    “Luke Skywalker destroyed the Death Star, not Han ... and the raisin guy is ...” I trailed off, fidgeting with the comic in my hands. “Look, it’s not gonna work.”
    “It could work!” she said earnestly. “I promise, right after my finals next week I’ll watch all the Star Wars movies again. Even those crappy ones with the Jamaican fish guy.”
    I smiled weakly, glancing down at my untied shoes. “You’re Gavin’s sister.”
    She reached across the desk and ran her fingers across the back of my hand. “And you’re my brother’s hot older friend. What’s your point?”
    I rubbed the back of my neck and cleared my throat. “What if we do go for dinner and things don’t work out? You’d end up hating me, and then things would fall apart with Gavin. And, I’d lose you as a friend too, which would suck because you’re the only girl friend I have. Well, not a ‘girlfriend’, but ... a friend who happens to be a girl. And what if ...”
    “Whoa,” she interrupted, holding up her hands. “You’re glitching out on me, Matty. Relax . I’m taking about dinner, not eloping. You know, dinner? Food, drinks, a waiter ...” Peyton paused and trailed her eyes down, crinkling her nose at my Dorito-stained hoodie. “Clothing that’s been through the wash in the last decade. We’re not exactly on the fast-track here – we’ve known each other for years. I know you like me, at least enough to go out for dinner ... and I’ve been pretty clear about how I feel.”
    “You’re right,” I said, nodding quickly. “It’s been years, so a couple more weeks can’t hurt, right?”
    “What are you afraid of?”
    “Let’s just ...”
    “ Hey ,” Gavin shouted, jogging from the stacks with a wine glass in each hand. His customers were following close behind. “Anyone interested in a mimosa before The Reveal? It’s starting in two minutes.”
    “I’ll take one!” I snatched a glass from his hand as he passed, retreating to the front of the store. The thought of consuming champagne and orange juice was making my stomach turn, but if it was going to get me out of that conversation with Peyton, I would have chugged battery acid.
    Smooth move, Matt. The girl you’ve been awkwardly hitting on for years actually asks you out on a date – the first time this has happened in the history of ever – and you shoot her down, turn and literally scurry away.
    Either I had a new disorder to add to my already impressive list, or I had recently developed some serious brain damage.
    It wasn’t even noon and I’d already blown an opportunity. Classic Moxon.
     

     
    Everyone gathered close around the Trinitron like campers warming in front of a fire.