dreams, Short Story

Arcade You Not, Arcade You

I never imagined I would ever wonder what the lips of another girl would taste or feel like. However, at that moment when our eyes met, I felt the strangest discomfort. I think you felt it too. We did not dare look at each other again. Our transaction became the bridge. Our fingers touched and I felt guilty. I had a boyfriend. I took the receipt and quickly rushed away. I had to get away as fast as possible. I mean what was this feeling?

I had 60 dollars to pass time in that arcade. I’m sure I could survive that. You at that counter, I just had to avoid you right?

I threw some balls but that heavy bursting feeling in my chest kept expanding. My head lost in the clouds. I missed most of my shots. Then I felt you looking, I turned and there you were looking away. Why was it so hard to love someone in this time? Why must I love only one?

I looked away, feeling like a deflating balloon. I had someone who loved me so deeply and with his whole heart who would never hurt me but here I was mesmerized with dreams of lips, not his. Hands on me that weren’t his and I falling deep into the eyes that were not his.

I did try to brush the dreams away but as soon as I returned to earth you were suddenly beside me. Fixing the machine just next door. I could feel your existence just steps away. Hearts racing, eyes avoiding our guilty pleasure.

You know I have someone, you saw him once before, he brought me to this world of the arcade. I loved the old games and the new. There was something about the old merging with the new that felt comforting, that there was hope.

A million miles away we ride with friends getting lost in the wilderness. My hair blown around me by the wind and your arms are around my waist pulling me down, back into our seat. I fall onto your lap and you wrap your arms around me. Nuzzling my ears like no one was watching. I catch sight of our guy friends grinning like buffoons on the mirror reflection. I roll my eyes and snuggle deeper into your chest, comforted by your warmth and smell.

We stop at the top of a hill, we run down like wild spirits falling then rolling on top of each other laughing like maniacs. You look down at me, heat rising between us as our bodies mould into each other. Your lips inch closer to mine, as my hand rises up your waist while yours slide under my shirt. I feel myself stop breathing as your breathing increases. I close my eyes waiting to feel your lips.

The crash of the arcade machine jolts me back to reality. I’m down to my last throw and did not realize. Why do I feel so afraid?

Photo by Carl Raw on Unsplash


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