27: Reminded Of The Nostalgic Feeling

"You'll find out when we get there." Sam scolded me. He was in a surprisingly good mood for the first time in a week. It was like he was slowly coming back to me, and I took that gratefully.

After the breakdown in his bathroom, he was a bit distant. Quiet and reserved, as though learning how to cope with everything for the first time. Because originally Sam only kept functioning via the veil of false hope obstructing his vision. Now he was finding new ways to adapt — new sources of motivation and determination. And fuck, I was mesmerized by him all over again. How could one person hold so much courage? No matter how many times he got knocked down?

When he asked me to go on a proper date with him, I knew that he really was back to being my Sam. Of course, I blushed like an idiot and wondered what the hell I did to deserve his attention. I also had to question whether or not it was a good idea for us to be seen in public one on one. Especially in the context of a date, because Sam was not the picture of subtly in any way.

However, he told me that the date would take place far enough away from our hometown to keep potential sightings at a minimum. Maybe even not at all. Persistent doubts pursued, but Sam promised me that nothing would happen to us. That we were going to be in a very public space, thus keeping us out of potential harm's way.

I was probably just as delusional as him in thinking that we had control over the situation. But nothing felt more exciting than going on my first ever proper date with my first ever partner. And I couldn't say no to him when he was showing so many signs of life again.

"I want to know." I whined, watching as trees whirred past my window. We had been in the car for about an hour, and it didn't seem that we were stopping just yet. We were heading to a bigger town not too far from where we lived, but I had no idea what Sam had planned for us. I was admittedly giddy to find out. I felt like a hopeless school girl obsessed with the mere thought of her crush.

"You'll know when we get there." He tsked.

His Spotify was playing like it always was when we rode together. The more we listened to his music, the more I started to find the songs I also knew. Even though Sam didn't say it directly to me, I knew that he made a playlist with said songs. Clearly he paid more attention to me than I would have initially thought, and that only put me in a better mood.

The rest of the car ride left me restless. Sometimes Sam started to sing, and sometimes I bobbed my head along to the music. Most of the time we were just comfortable, and maybe I liked that part the most.

Finally, the car began to slow down. I instantly sat straighter, eyes scanning the area for where Sam was taking me. I raised my eyebrows as we began turning into an arcade parking lot. That wasn't what I had been expecting.

"An arcade?" I asked, suddenly feeling like a child in the best possible way. Kiera used to take Millie and me to places like this all the time as preteens, though I had never been to this particular one.

"Yeah, I thought it would be fun. They also have bowling, a restaurant, and a swimming pool." Sam said proudly.

"Have you been here before?"

"My grandpa used to take Chloe, Joss, and I here." He parked the car, casting me a thoughtful look. "Chloe would usually complain if things didn't go her way and Joss would agree with her. So most of the time I just hung out with my grandpa instead."

"I don't know how you're related to Chloe." I pointed out.

"She's always been difficult." He shrugged. "Some people are given everything they want as kids, and they let that shape their whole lives."

I couldn't help the curiosity following his words. "Weren't you?"

"I was. But I don't know, I like to think that I'm more grateful than Chloe."

"You definitely are." It wasn't even comparable.

With that we got out of the car and walked into the arcade. It was lit up by bright and colorful LEDs, washing the room in hues of purple and green. It smelt of pizza, and the laughter of excited children echoed throughout the building. There were a few people closer to our age, but most of them were far younger. I wasn't shocked by that.

Sam was the one who paid, and he wouldn't take no for an answer. So I allowed him to choose the first game we played as some form of fairness. He chose a cup pong game simply because it was the closest. However, to both of our dismay, I ended up winning. That caused Sam to quickly divert us towards other games instead.

Despite Sam winning at just about everything else we played, he continuously returned to cup pong, which I — by some divine intervention — continuously won. I was quickly learning that Sam was a very competitive person who couldn't comprehend the concept of someone being better than him at something.

After over an hour of this cycle and my cheeks physically hurting from all of the laughing, we finally decided to call it and move onto the next thing. We went up to the prize counter, where we proceeded to argue for an embarrassing amount of time while the man working just stared at us with a dead expression. I didn't blame him. There was nothing fun about watching us bicker over who got what prize.

Fortunately, a group of kids came up behind us during this and I made the genius suggestion of just giving our tickets to them. Sam couldn't contend with that, so our argument finally reached its end and we were freed from the shackles of young-couple-things.

Next came bowling. There were a few times I went bowling as a kid, but it wasn't much of anything. I just trailed behind Sam as we were given our bowling shoes and assigned to a lane. It was off to the far side, the room also bathed in colorful lights and filled with mostly families or groups of teenagers. Next to our lane was one of those families, consisting of three hyper boys of varying ages and one quiet, polite little girl. The parents were just trying to keep track of them all.

505 by Arctic Monkeys could be heard melding with the echo of bowling pins being knocked down and people cheering. I slipped the bowling shoes onto my feet, being reminded of the nostalgic feeling.

"Why are these shoes the ugliest thing to ever exist?" I thought aloud as I looked over at Sam.

He peered down at them, brow furrowing. "Maybe they want to humiliate us."

"No wonder you wanted to come here." I mused.

"What?"

"You're a masochist, remember?"

Sam stuck his tongue out, standing up to put our names into the monitor. "I don't know how I feel about the fact that our relationship is now defined as the pessimist and the masochist."

"I don't make the rules."

He proceeded to put his name in first, making it appoint to question why my name had to be longer than three letters. To which I pointed out the fact that his full name was the same length as mine, but he merely brushed that fact off with a brisk semantics. That was how my name became Soy on the monitor, since Sam was beyond amused by it. I wasn't, but I couldn't deny the fact that he looked so damn pleased with himself. Which was sweet. I was utterly whipped.

The first few rounds flew by all too quick. It was a whirlwind of excitement, cheering, and dumbfounded expressions as I somehow managed to get a disturbing amount of strikes and spares. For someone who had only ever been bowling a few times, it made no sense that I was doing as well as I was. Sam didn't believe me when I promised him that I barely even knew what I was doing. It quickly reached a point where I was wiping the tears of laughter out of my eyes every time that it was my turn to score.

"You're fucking cheating." Sam just gaped at me.

I had to force the words out in between giggle fits. "I'm not, I swear! How do you even cheat at bowling?"

"I don't know, but you're doing it!" He grumbled, picking up his ball and holding it out towards me. "Show me whatever magic you're doing."

"There is no magic." I took the ball from him, showed him how I threw it, and then handed it back. "That's it, that's all I'm doing."

"Nope, you're definitely cheating." He shook his head, throwing the ball and physically cringing when it didn't hit nearly as many pins as he had been hoping it would.

We both went back to the couch to get a drink of water. However, while we were sitting there, a soft voice caught our attention.

"Hello." It was just loud enough for it to be heard over the music and chaos around us. We both looked over at the couch across from us, finding that little girl staring back with big doe-like eyes. Her parents were distracted with one of the other kids, leaving no one to notice her as she spoke to us.

"Hello." Sam smiled warmly. Much like earlier when I suggested giving our tickets to the kids in line behind us at the prize counter, I noticed that Sam seemed to melt around the kids. It was adorable. I, on the other hand, was not a fan of little tiny humans that slobber and scream.

"Are you celebrating a birthday too?" She asked. She couldn't have been more than eight or nine, her hair blonde and her cheeks a strawberry-pink.

"We're just here for fun." Sam told her, speaking in a higher-affliction than normal. Sort of like how most people talked to animals that they thought were cute. "Is it your birthday?"

"No!" She giggled. "It's my brother's birthday."

"Tell him I said happy birthday."

"Okay." She nodded happily. "Are you best friends?"

That earned a chortle from the both of us, Sam's hand finding mine on the couch as we shared a comical look. "The best of friends."

Her face lit up as she sat straighter. "I have a best—"

"Nina!" She was suddenly cut off by the clipped tone of her mother, who gave her a disapproving but gentle look. "What have we told you about leaving people alone?"

"I just wanted to say hi." The little girl, whose name must have been Nina, pouted and puffed out her cheeks.

Her mom turned to us apologetically. "I'm sorry about her, she's currently in her talk-to-every-person-she-can phase. Don't let her disturb your date."

That caused my face to heat, and I had to actively tell myself that it was okay to keep my hand where it was. Sam didn't seem to flinch, and I wondered how he managed to make everything in the world seem so effortless. Wasn't it difficult for him? Technically this was the first time someone was directly talking to us about us. I didn't think there was anything wrong with our relationship, but not everyone had that same sentiment. I just didn't want to be seen by the wrong sort of person in the wrong sort of way.

"Don't worry, it's really no bother at all." Sam assured her. He was beaming, and I realized that he was excited. Because someone saw us for the real us? Because she didn't even blink at the sight of us holding hands? Maybe I needed to learn how to chill out.

"Boys can date?" Nina suddenly asked, peering up at her mom with wonder.

"Of course they can, darling." Now it was the mom's turn to blush, clearly not wanting to have this conversation with her daughter while in front of a queer couple. The sentiment was sweet, and I was oddly honored to get to witness it. Something about the whole scenario was healing a worried part of myself. Maybe not as many people care nowadays as I previously thought.

"That's so cool!" Nina gasped. "Can girls date girls?"

"Anyone can date anyone." Her mom simplified it so that the little girl would stop asking so many questions. She had the spirit, that was for sure.

"Not anyone can date anyone." That contribution came from one of the boys who came up behind Nina and poked her cheek. He was younger than Sam and me by a few years, but it was hard to tell exactly how much due to his youthful face.

"Rylee, now is not the time." Their mom sighed.

As if to further devolve the conversation, or whatever this was called, the youngest out of them all seemed to add his thoughts. "Some people have cooties." It was worth noting that he was only maybe seven years old, but that didn't make the statement any less staggering. This was exactly why I wasn't fond of children.

"People don't have cooties, Mason." The last kid finally spoke up. He was probably about Rylee's age, but he looked absolutely nothing like the rest of the family. Maybe he was a friend simply visiting. His words were a bit timid, as if he wasn't sure that he wanted to be heard.

"I think all girls have cooties." Mason shook his head.

"No they don't." He sighed.

"Is that why boys date boys, Mom? Because of cooties?" The little boy asked.

"There is no such thing as cooties. Boys date boys because they want to, it has nothing to do with girls."

Rylee quirked a brow, studying us for a moment. "Doesn't it have to do with girls?"

"Rylee, not you too. Leave them alone." I felt bad for the mom, because it was clear that she meant well in educating her children. But they definitely had no prior exposure to queerness, and it was resulting in us becoming a part of a peculiar conversation that I certainly wasn't expecting at the start of all of this.

"Obviously girls don't have cooties, but they date guys because they don't like girls. That has to do with girls, doesn't it?"

The one about his age nudged Rylee's arm to get his attention. "If you don't like girls like that then you're probably not going to be thinking about girls at all."

"How would you know?"

"Because—"

"Alright, boys. That is enough." That came from the authoritative voice of what I assumed to be their father. Previously he had been watching everything unfold, but he seemed to have reached his wit's end.

Rylee scowled. "Wyatt seems to know everything."

"I do not." Wyatt, the one who had been arguing with him, shook his head.

"You're probably gay." He mumbled loud enough for me to hold back a physical cringe. I didn't think that he meant it in a malicious way, but the comment was unnecessary and it showed on Wyatt's stiff expression.

"Am not."

"I am not going to say it again." The dad pressed. "We are done with this conversation. Leave these poor boys alone, and let's finish bowling."

Thankfully, that time it seemed to finally work. Their mom apologized a few more times, and Nina made sure to wish us a nice date. Then finally the moment was over, and all I could really do was exchange a look of incredulity with Sam. Who was equally as confused and unsure of the conversation.

I glanced over at that Wyatt kid a few more times, and every time I just felt bad for him. Maybe he was gay, and if that was true, then I hoped he realized that it was okay. I hoped that Rylee learned that saying things like that could contribute to the negative perception of queerness. Not because there was anything wrong with being queer, but because tossing labels onto people who weren't out wasn't helpful nor constructive. We all had to figure ourselves out on our own time, myself included.

Oddly enough, I felt a bit different following the interaction. Towards how I saw myself in regards to my sexuality, and how I wanted that to impact me. Maybe none of it really mattered at all. Sam was by my side, and that was the only tangible thing about it. The realness of that shouldn't be overshadowed by the social construct of sexuality anyway.

Did that explain why Sam was endearing to me in a way no one else had ever been before? No. Not at all. But instead of trying to answer that question any longer, I just offered him another one of my smiles. When he returned the gesture, I knew that a piece of his heart came with it.

And yeah, that was tangible. And it was beautiful.

•O•O•

Thoughts on Wyatt?

Or maybe Rylee?

Their book is called King of Hearts <3