Story Time
Rainy Day Games
Rain beat down on the deserted streets. It was only November and the people of California were unused to rain after eight dry months. In other parts of the country it would be an eventuality to plan for: put on your galoshes and move on with your life. Here it might as well have been pouring battery acid.
It was 3pm on a Saturday and downtown looked like a damp graveyard. Inside The Steamy Percolator the barista wiped down the front counter for the forty-seventh time. Tossing his rag on the counter, he peered through the dripping front windows for signs of life and sighed. How was he supposed to make a living if the only people who came in all day were those two kids and their damn boardgame?
Close to the window, the two "kids" in question pored over their letters. So far the words HUNGRY, HOOKER, RAIN, and YAOI had all graced the board, and the young man in the black T-shirt and cargo pants was weighing whether to challenge the obviously illegal last play, or use it to his advantage later in the game.
"I'm pretty sure names aren't allowed, particularly foreign ones," he casually remarked.
The girl sulked and snuggled back into her billowy raincoat, crossing her arms plaintively. "Cut me some slack, I had nothing but vowels! It's not like it was worth any points."
"Well... if I let it slide, you've got to let a name go for me in the future."
"Fine, fine, just go already, I'm getting old over here."
Stealing a quck glance at her frustrated look, he put down JOKE and shot her a quick grin. "Triple-letter score on the J means 31 more points for me..." A curse from the other end of the table elicited another little smirk from the boy.
She twiddled a lock of her hair around one finger as she glowered at the board, half-ignoring the triumphant way he dug around the bag for another handful of letters. Where the hell was she supposed to put ERECTIE? If only there were an L on the board! She grudgingly placed TREE for six lousy points and yanked the bag of letters from him, hoping for more suitable consonants this time.
The boy suppressed a little leap of excitement at the word she had put down. The open E gave him a chance to put down a bingo that would cross a Double-word score in the process. He was already up by a good 40 points and this would push him into a triple-digit lead. The other side of the table cursed again, causing him to look up. "What? I promise I'll go faster this time."
"Ugh nothing," she muttered, putting her second letter L on the rack. The Scrabble gods were obviously against her today. "So how are things with that girl you met from the interwebs?"
He stared at his tiles, idly moving them back and forth - no reason to rush such an awesome play, don't want it to look too easy. "Oh... y'know. Good. I think I'll ask her to dinner tonight."
The girl snerked, "Bit late notice, don't you think?"
"Oh... well, if she has plans that's cool..." he began shifting his tiles more quickly without noticing.
Her eyes fell on his nervous shifting, "I thought you were going to go faster this time."
An evil grin crept upon his face. "Patience... I'm calculating my best move..."
"Bah!" she slumped back into her chair. Suddenly she grinned. "Want to make a bet?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? You're down like 40 points."
"I can recover!" she countered. "Come on, tell me what you want if you win."
He thought about it for a moment. "Okay, if I win, you have to go across the street and buy me a smoothie from Jamba Juice."
She made a face. "In the rain? Oh alright fine."
"So what do you want if you win?" he grinned, knowing she didn't have a chance.
She smiled sweetly. "I'd like a kiss from you, please, on the lips."
The barista looked up from his scrubbing and saw something he didn't think existed in real life: a double-take. He grinned, then remembered himself and frowned back at the counters.
"You... okay," the boy managed to stammer out.
The girl frowned, "Don't look so worried, you're up 40 points. I'll be soaking myself in the rain before you know it for your precious smoothie."
"Psh, trust me, I'm not worried at all," he remarked as casually as he could. Then he placed the word AT on the board. "Your turn."