Back to Childhood

Sabrina

How on Earth do people play these things?

I ask myself the question as I sit on a bean bag in the den, a controller in my hand.

For the past hour, I’ve been shooting at zombies coming at me from all directions. I keep dying, though, getting devoured by them. Right now, I’m at Wave 5 and I’m down to just one life, which means I’m close to Game Over. Again.

“Ugh.” I press the buttons. “I hate zombies.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Zombie’s ears perk up.

“Not you, Zombie,” I tell him. “I know you don’t eat brains.”

I’m not the only one who’s struggling, though. Randall, who’s sitting behind me on the couch, seems to be doing even worse, judging from the grunts and curses he’s been giving.

“I give up,” he says finally, putting his controller on the table as the words ‘Game Over’ appear in red on his side of the screen.

I stay alive for just a few seconds more before dying, the same words flashing on my side of the screen.

“I guess we’re both not cut out for this, huh?” I put my controller beside his.

“You can say that again.” He sighs. “I thought video games were supposed to be fun but this one’s damn hard. How does David play this for hours?”

I give him a puzzled look. “If you didn’t like video games, why did you agree to play with me?”

He shrugs. “I thought it would be fun.”

In spite of myself, I blush, looking away.

“Well, clearly, it isn’t. You’re getting frustrated and I’m getting frustrated.” I sigh. “If only I had stuff like this growing up.”

“What did you have?” Randall asks.

“Trees. Chickens. Pigs.”

“You grew up on a farm?”

Oops. Did I say too much?

“Yeah, pretty much,” I confess since I can’t take my words back.

“With your parents or grandparents?” Randall asks.

Why is he being so inquisitive all of a sudden?

“Parents,” I tell him, shifting my legs.

“But they’re gone now?”

“Yup. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Okay. Sorry. I guess I’m just curious about how you were, your childhood.”

“It was simple but still fun,” I say as I fidget with my hands, remembering. “We didn’t have all this technology but I was never bored. Even when I was just sitting up in a tree, I was having fun.”

“Yeah. Kids get bored so easily now.”

“How about you?” I ask him. “How was your childhood?”

“Okay, I guess. My parents liked to travel. A lot. And they liked hosting parties, too.”

I glance at him. “Well, that’s what rich couples do, don’t they?”

“I liked the trips but I hated the parties. I’d sneak out of them and just play in my room or watch TV.”

“I’d do the same.”

“I still don’t like parties that much but I have to go to one every now and then. It’s part of my job.”

“Going to parties as part of your job.” I nod. “It can’t be that hard.”

He snorts. “That’s because you’ve never been to these parties.”

“I thought all parties were the same. You talk. You drink. You dance. Not necessarily in that order. And you try to find out some drunk person’s secrets.”

“You left out the making out.”

For some reason, I blush, imagining Randall making out with someone at a party, just like those couples at Vince’s party. Of course, he probably does that. He’s single, after all. A lot of women must go after him. There’s no question about that.

The question is: Why am I jealous?

“Have you gone to a lot of parties?” Randall asks.

“Not really. The music is usually bad.”

“So, you like music?”

Shit. I’ve said too much again.

“A bit,” I say.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Uh-oh. “You’re already asking me one.”

“I’d like to ask another, something I should have asked before you started working.”

Now, I’m curious. “What?”

“Why did you decide to become a nanny?”

Oh, that. And here I thought he was going to ask if I had a boyfriend or if I was a virgin.

Still, the question isn’t so simple nor can I give a simple answer, mainly because I didn’t decide to become a nanny. What do I say?

“Well, I’ve been trying a bunch of stuff, and I thought I’d give this a try.”

“Oh. So it’s an experiment?”

Not really, but… “That’s one way of looking at it.”

“And what other jobs have you had before? I’m only asking because they weren’t listed in your file.”

He was looking at my file?

“Oh. Carol probably didn’t list them down because they’re only odd jobs that last like only a few weeks long and some were just like once a month.”

Randall nods. “I see. So, that’s why.”

What did he think?

“Anyway, do you want to play just one more game?” I ask in hopes of distracting him from asking more questions, stretching my arms. “I have to keep at this if I want to beat David.”

He glances at his watch. “Okay. We still have time.”

“Cool.” I go through the games on the floor. “Why don’t we play a different game? How about… a racing game?”

I lift the cartridge.

“Sure there’s no weightlifting game?” Randall asks.

“Very funny. Well, maybe you should have one made.”

“Maybe I will.”

“So, racing game?”

“Okay.”

I put the cartridge in and hand him his controller.

He goes down to the floor. “So, if I win, do I get a kiss?”

I freeze.

Randall laughs. “Just kidding. I thought it would be more interesting if we put something at stake, since you are all about playing for stakes. How about if I win, you’ll go to the gym with me again. Just cardio. If you win, you can ask for whatever you want.”

Oh, good. He was just kidding about the kiss. Still, whatever I want?

“Fine.” I reach for my own controller. “Let’s do this.”

Taking a deep breath, I start the game, both Randall and I going through the tutorial before heading to our first racing battle.

“Ready?” I ask him.

“Ready.”

At first, I struggle with the controls, always slipping off the tracks but eventually, I get the hang of it.

Come on. Come on.

At the end of three minutes, I win.

“Yes!” I cheer, giving Randall a hug.

Wait. What?

As I feel his chest against mine, my heart starts pounding. I can feel his heart doing the same, too, and I quickly pull away, blushing.

“Sorry,” I say.

“For what?” He puts down his controller. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” I put a strand of hair behind my ear.

“So, what do you want? You won, so you can ask me anything.”

Right. I can’t seem to think of anything, though.

Think, Sabrina.

“Surely, there must be something you want,” Randall says.

I look at him, my gaze wandering over his arms. I want to see his bare arms again, to be wrapped up in them, to be scooped in them and…

No. I mustn’t want him.

“Maybe just a new lipstick,” I say the first thing that comes to mind. “My old is almost out.”

“Sure. I’ll ask Tess to get you one. Anything else?”

I blink. I thought I was only allowed one.

He looks into my eyes. “You know, if there’s anything you want to tell me or anything you need help with, anything at all, feel free to tell me, okay?”

“You mean about David?”

“Or about you?”

About me. Anything I need help with.

I have to say it’s tempting to ask him to punch Vince for me but no. That’s my problem. I can’t get Randall involved.

I shrug. “I can’t think of anything, but if there is, I’ll let you know.”

He smiles. “Great.”

I look away from that smile, stilling my beating heart as I get on my feet. Once again, it seems to have been a bad idea to be in a room alone with Randall.

You should be more careful, Sabrina.

Yes, I should be, which is why I’m leaving now.

“I better go,” I tell Randall as I glance at the clock. “David will be home soon.”

“Sure. I need to get back to work, too, or Tess might get mad at me.”

“We wouldn’t want that.” I look at Zombie, who’s in the corner. “Come on, Zombie, let’s go wait for your master, okay? I bet he can’t wait to play with you when he gets home.”