https://youtu.be/miDfTKlmD6M

< -- nine -- >

· ·

Setting down the plate of cheese fries in between Neema and I, she dipped her corn dog in mustard before taking a bite. Dipping my own corn dog in ketchup I took a bite followed by several cheese covered fries.

Looking around the arcade as she chewed there were only a few people here aside from the ones that worked here and us. Two couples played at the bowling lanes taking up two of the six lanes.

"You know ketchup usually goes with hot dogs." I commented on her mustard choice.

"Ketchup shouldn't go anywhere but in the trash."

"Woah." I laughed at her hatred for the condiment. "A little harsh, are we?"

"Ketchup is gross Lars," she said dipping her corn dog again, "and I've told you that before."

"When?"

"When. . ." she paused the the corn dog halfway to her mouth, "when . . ."

"When what? Why won't you just tell me?" I asked sitting back in the booth.

Setting her food down Neema took a few gulps of her drink taking her time obviously collecting her thoughts. Wiping her mouth with a napkin she licked her lips leaning back in her seat like me. "I don't think that . . . you knowing where we met will change anything."

"How do you know that?"

"Because we've been going to the same school for two years and you've never said anything to me."

"Communication goes both ways babe."

"You're right," she nodded, "but you still wouldn't know who I was if I walked up to you and introduced myself. You probably would have stared at me with a confused look on your face."

She had me there. Not knowing who she was now wouldn't have changed two years ago either. We had been walking the same halls and having the same teachers and I didn't even know she existed. "Can I ask you something Lars?"

"Sure." I nodded eating another cheese fry.

"How do you plan on playing the games with your arm . . . hidden?" Her eyes fell to the plate of fries. "You know you don't have to hide yourself from me Lars. I'm not going to judge you or anything like that."

Moving the fingers to my prosthetic arm inside of my pocket I looked at Neema's amber eyes and long lashes. Her nose was small much like her ears. Her bottom lip was a tad larger than her upper lip, each piece placed delicately on her beautiful face.

"I hide my arm so you won't look at me with sympathy."

"I won't -"

"Look at me feeling sorry that I only have one arm?"

"I . . ." Raising my brow at her I knew that she couldn't deny it. It was the first thing people did when they see my prosthetic. Thinking that I was in some sort of tragic accident that left me with one arm as if I didn't deserve it for taking my brother's life. "I won't."

"You will."

"I won't, I swear. I won't even look at it."

Getting ready to open my mouth to retaliate I changed my mind removing my hidden prosthetic placing it on the table. Immediately Neema's eyes looked to the right side of my head behind me. I wanted to laugh while she drummed her fingers on the table trying to ignore the elephant in the room.

"Neema."

"Hm?" Her eyes strained to stay away from my arm.

"You can look Neema just . . ." I looked at the metal connected to my elbow sighing that this was my life, "just don't ask about it, okay? I'm not ready yet." Nodding her head she closed her eyes placing her hands on either side of the food palms up. "What are you doing?"

"I want you to know that it's okay so . . . put your hands in mine. Both of them, please."

Keeping still I watched her eye move under her lids. Shedding her uniform jacket in the car like me, the skin on her arms were exposed to the lights above. Pretty and brown like walnuts. The pinkish-brown skin on her palms waited for my hands to cover hers.

Would she recoil from the touch of my metal? Would her brows lower at the noise that I made when I moved my wrist or fingers? Would she make a joke about feeling for a pulse?

Exhaling my thoughts I looked over to the bored man waiting for someone to rent a pair of bowling shoes. His only thoughts were looking forward to his shift being over and not for the girl he thought was beautiful to run away from him.

Moving back over to Neema I looked at her some more admiring the pulse in her neck. The crisp white button up uniform shirt free of wrinkles. With two undone from the top the skin of her chest glowed. Bare and free of any ink the thought of seeing her wear a silver necklace with a cookie charm came and went.

"Are you still here?"

"I'm here."

"Okay. My eyes are still closed though." She pulled her hand back and underneath the table. "My hands are sweaty, sorry." Keeping her eyes tightly shut she put them back on the table open and ready for me to touch her.

Wiping my normal hand on my pants I looked at my prosthetic knowing it wouldn't be sweaty. "You're not going to break up with me after this, are you?"

Neema frowned tilting her head slightly to the left. "Why would I do that?"

"Just asking." I shrugged as if she could see me.

"I'm not going to break our plan Lars, no." She nodded very sure of her answer.

Here goes nothing

Placing my hand in hers, she slightly smiled letting her fingers wrap around my mine. Looking over to her empty right hand I tried to talk myself into letting her touch my prosthetic. "How about . . . how about you put your hand in mine?"

"If that will make you more comfortable, okay."

Pulling her right hand back I turned my wrist grinding my jaw at the horrible sound that it made. I couldn't bring myself to look at her to see if she was peeking. I felt hot and sweaty as if I was under layers of clothes under the scorching sun. I was ready to get up and leave her here instead of letting her touch the half of person that I was.

"Are you ready?" Her soft voice asked.

Don't pull away

Don't pull away

Don't pull away

Forcing myself to swallow the rock in my throat I nodded my head struggling to say yes.

She won't pull away

She won't pull away

Get yourself together Lars. Don't let her see you be so weak.

Reminding myself that this was fine I felt a squeeze. "Are you okay?"

"Go ahead Ms. Marshall. Feel away."

Watching her hand lower to the prosthetic she kept her eyes closed as the tips of our fingers touched. My heart slightly ached to be able to feel her really touch my left hand.

Spreading her fingers over the palm of my prosthetic hand she slowly moved over my wrist towards my forearm. Turning her hand just a little she pulled back sliding her fingers over the metal. "Hold my hand?"

What?

"You want me to hold your hand?"

"Yes." She smiled with her eyes still closed.

"I shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"I've never held anyone's hand with my prosthetic. I don't want to break your fingers." I lightly joke.

Raising her hand so that her elbow rested on the table her palm now faced me, "I trust you."

"You're left handed, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Just making sure I'm not going to mess up your writing hand."

"I'll be fine and so will you. Now come one." She bounced in her seat a little. "I'm excited to hold your hand."

"You are holding my hand."

"Both of your hands Lars."

Lifting my hand I slipped my metal fingers in between hers bending them until the tips of my hands touched her back. Seeing her twitch slightly I looked at her pained face. "I'm hurting you." Opening my hand to pull away she tightened her fingers turning the tips of her nails white.

"Wait! Wait! Just . . . relax a little but don't let go . . . Don't let me go yet."

Watching her lids open those amber eyes held mine. Tensing my muscles I forced myself to stop leaning forward. This felt like the perfect moment to kiss her but we had only meet two days ago. It was too early. Didn't mean that it wouldn't feel right though.

Pushing the thoughts of us kissing aside, I switched my attention back to our intertwined hands relaxing my prosthetic hand to relieve Neema of the pain I was causing. "Thanks." She smiled keeping her eyes on our hands.

"What are you thinking Ms. Marshall?"

"That this," her eyes flicked to mine them back to our hands, "is beautiful."

"My fake hand?"

"No, our hands. Together. Like this again."

Again?

I wanted to ask her what she meant but held off learning that she'll eventually slip up again. It had already happened twice and I was sure it would happen more if we hung out more often. "You ready to lose in every game?"

Stacking up the cold food she laughed standing up. "Bring it on Crawford."

Following her lead I stood as well wrapping my arm around her shoulders making our way over to the wastebasket to dumb our food. "Oh Ms. Marshall. I plan on bringing baby."

"Where do you want to start?"

"Motorcycle race." I said without hesitation.

Walking over to the bikes connected to a large screen for the entire room to see, Neema took the blue bike while I took the yellow one. "Don't cry when I beat you." She teased scanning her token card.

"Just know that I won't go easy on you just because your my girlfriend." I replied scanning my card as well. Taking the second player slot.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Best two out of three, I won. Neema put up a good fight though but in the end a champ always wins.

Moving around the arcade we played for best two out of three on every game, even basketball. She did beat me in the ridiculous game of racing ducks and then again in skee ball which was only because I didn't know my own strength but I have now learned to be gentle when rolling.

There was one kind of game that I tried to avoid with ever fiber in my being and that was the two dancing games they had near the front door and one in the right corner near slam-a-winner. I wasn't built to dance and I would rather no one else see me try to dance either.

"Come Lars, there's no one else here."

"The staff. Those people over there are still bowling." I tried to give her my dead weight but she continued to beg pushing me towards the dance floor.

"It will be great. You'll see." We stopped in front of the dance machine. "This is the last game we can play before we leave."

"So let's play something we both want to play."

"We've played everything already and we won't even have to play this three times. Whoever wins the first round will be crowned the greatest of all arcade games. Deal?"

"So what do I get if I win?"

"What would you like?"

Pocketing my hands I leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "I'll tell you after I win."

Pushing me back a little she scanned her card pressing player one. Turning to me I remained where I was fighting until the end. Rolling her eyes she scanned her card pressing player two for me. "You're such a baby."

"But I'm your baby."

"Yeah, well crybabies don't get to pick the song." Scrolling through the games playlist I pulled out my phone capturing a picture of her that I would show her how happy she was before I beat her in the game I didn't even want to play. "Oh, I love this song!"

Stepping back the animated woman in a belly shirt asked if we were both ready. Neema shook out her arms bouncing a little. Shaking my head I readied myself for the foolery. Slowly the music began and I couldn't help but smile at the song I listened to the day I met her.

"You're a Maroon 5 fan?"

"Sometimes." She smiled earning an excellent and great job on the screen. "The bass guitar sounds amazing on this song though. I love it."

Damn, she's perfect

· · ·