Page 20

The night air was cool, the kind that made you question your life choices. Like, for instance, why I was following a demon out of a motel window when I could be sleeping like a normal person.

Ethan had already hit the ground, hands in his pockets, looking suspiciously casual for someone who had just broken curfew. His hoodie was up, his smirk was in place, and, of course, he looked annoyingly good in the dim motel parking lot lighting.

I landed with significantly less grace, nearly rolling my ankle on a loose rock. Ethan turned, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Smooth, Ghost boy."

"Shut up," I muttered, brushing off imaginary dust in an attempt to restore my dignity.

Before I could demand an actual explanation for this little escapade, I noticed something. A group of very familiar silhouettes lingering just around the corner of the building.

My stomach dropped.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

Mia, ever the dedicated camera lady, had her phone up, snapping photos like this was some kind of paparazzi moment. Joy was beside her, grinning like she had been waiting for this exact moment to happen. Max was there too, along with some other jocks and wildlife club members.

"Aw, look at them," Joy cooed, her voice loud enough to be legally considered a crime.

"Sneaking out together, like a celebrity couple."

Ethan, the absolute menace that he was, leaned in closer to me. "Hear that, Ghost boy? We're famous."

I took two deliberate steps away from him. "No. Nope. Absolutely not."

Joy gasped dramatically. "Trouble in paradise already?"

The others cackled. Mia zoomed in with her camera. Ethan, enjoying my suffering far too much, ran a hand through his hair in that stupid effortless way, as if this was some kind of planned photoshoot.

I turned to leave.

Shun, scrolling through memes on her phone as if this nonsense was beneath her, casually grabbed my sleeve. "No use running, Clark. You're in too deep now."

"I hate all of you."

Ethan slung an arm around my shoulder. "But you love the attention."

I very calmly removed his arm and took three more steps away for safety. Subtle avoidance, that was my strategy.

Joy stretched dramatically. “Alright, now that we’ve confirmed that Clark and Ethan are the new tabloid obsession, let’s get going!”

I blinked. “Wait, wait—going where exactly?”

“To have fun, Clark,” Joy said, giving me a patronizing pat on the shoulder. “You know, that thing you avoid like it owes you money?”

I was this close to turning around and crawling right back through that window. But the odds of Mr. Dax catching me and reporting me to Principal Catherine were too high. Furthermore, Ethan was my personal duty. And if this got out, she’d definitely shut down the documentary.

I exhaled sharply. "Fine. But if we get caught, I am not covering for any of you."

Shun hummed. “Mr. Dax is dead asleep. He won’t know.”

"Joy, do not start singing."

Joy gasped. "How did you know—"

"Because you're you," I groaned.

She pouted but didn't argue. Probably because she was too busy plotting something worse.

The group moved as one, and despite my best efforts, I ended up closer to Ethan again. Every time he moved, I subtly moved in the opposite direction. A slow, careful game of ‘How Far Can I Get Without Looking Obvious.’

Mia, of course, recorded everything.

Ethan finally caught on. His eyes gleamed mischievously.

"Hey, Ghost Boy," he said smoothly, "why are you running from me?"

"I’m not."

"You are."

Joy gasped. "Oh my God, are you guys in your awkward slow-burn phase?"

Ethan grinned. “If we are, Ghost Boy here is the one burning.”

I clenched my fists. "I swear to the moon and stars, I will walk back to that motel alone."

"Aw, but you love us," Joy cooed.

Max patted my back. "Yeah, buddy. You’re stuck with us."

I groaned. This was going to be a long night.

And the worst part?

This wasn't even the “fun” part yet.

We hit the road, our little group of delinquents moving like a herd of lost sheep. The night air was crisp, the streets dimly lit, and the only real threats were the two gremlins leading the way—Joy and Max.

Joy, of course, started singing.

"WE'RE ON THE ROOOAD TO NOWHERE—"

Max, never one to miss an opportunity for chaos, joined in with all the elegance of a dying walrus. " AAAAND WE DON'T CAAAARE! "

I groaned. “For the love of everything sacred, stop—”

Joy nudged Max’s arm. “DUET TIME!”

Max belted out a note so off-key that somewhere in the universe, a siren probably lost its voice.

Shun, unimpressed, scrolled through her phone. “They sound like two drunk ogres arguing over a goat.”

Ethan snorted. “I’ve actually seen drunk ogres argue over a goat. They had more harmony.”

Mia, recording everything, giggled.

After an ungodly amount of noise pollution, we finally stumbled upon a neon-lit arcade squeezed between two rundown buildings. The blinking lights and glowing magic runes above the entrance screamed bad financial decisions ahead.

The last thing on my to-do list was to waste more money, considering that we were already on a tight budget, but of course, that’s exactly what they decided to do.

“We’ll just put our pocket money together!” Joy declared, as if that somehow made it a better idea.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “So let me get this straight… instead of saving our money for food, you guys want to blow it on rigged arcade games?”

Max clapped a hand on my back. “Exactly.”

"Brilliant budgeting," I muttered.

Ethan grinned. "Come on, Ghost boy. Don’t tell me you’ve never played arcade games before?"

I huffed. “Of course I have. I just—”

Joy gasped dramatically. "Clark. Sweet, nerdy, responsible Clark. Are you… scared to lose?"

I folded my arms. “I’m not scared. I just—”

“HE’S SCARED,” Max announced.

“I AM NOT—”

"Then let's play!"

Before I could protest, Mia dumped a handful of arcade tokens into my hands.

I sighed, staring at them. This was how peer pressure worked, wasn't it?

With that, we split up, diving into different games like overgrown children. The arcade was full of enchanted machines—glowing rune-powered screens, mechanical arms enchanted with minor spirits, and even a VR section that promised to make you "feel the pain of battle." (No thank you.)

Max, naturally, went straight for the punching game. He slammed his fist into the enchanted target so hard that the machine screamed in agony and spit out a record-breaking score.

Shun lazily played a rhythm game, casually landing perfect notes while still scrolling through memes.

Joy, who clearly had no idea how to drive, chose a racing game and promptly crashed into everything.

Mia was playing some creepy horror game, fully immersed while whispering, “This is cinematic gold.”

Ethan… Ethan was waiting. Watching. And then he smirked at me.

I knew that smirk.

He patted the seat of the two-player racing game beside him. "Think you can keep up?"

I scoffed. “Against you? Please.”

His smirk widened. “Alright, Speed Racer. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I sighed just to get over his charm. I slid into the seat, gripping the wheel. The countdown began.

3… 2… 1… GO!

Tires screeched. Engines roared. We sped down neon-lit tracks, weaving through obstacles, dodging incoming attacks, and drifting sharp corners.

Ethan was good. But I was better. He had instincts—raw, reckless, fast. I had calculations.

While he gripped the wheel and hoped for the best, I broke the road down into variables.

Acceleration, torque, friction, weight distribution—I could read a car like a formula.

He slammed the pedal; I timed the shift.

He drifted wide at corners; I clipped the apex like I was born there.

Every turn was an equation, every movement a solution.

He drove with guts. I drove with precision.

He drove like a rebel. I drove like a goddamn physicist. I took every shortcut.

Boosted at every perfect moment. And pulled off drifts so smooth they should’ve been illegal.

Joy, Max, and Shun gathered behind us, watching in awe.

"Clark is cracked," Joy whispered.

"Demon boy’s getting left in the dust," Max snickered.

Ethan, determined, clenched his jaw and leaned forward. He was catching up.

But then—

Final lap. One last corner.

Ethan tried to cut ahead, but I slammed the boost at the perfect second, launching across the finish line.

"FIRST PLACE!"

The arcade machine erupted with flashing lights and victory music. Ethan groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. I might have underestimated you.”

I smirked. “Told you.”

Joy clapped me on the back. “Clark, my guy, that was the most attractive thing you’ve ever done.”

Mia recorded everything.

Ethan cracked his knuckles. "Rematch. Now."

I leaned back. “Try not to eat my dust this time.”

He grinned. "Oh, it’s on."

And just like that, the arcade turned into a full-blown battle of pride, bad financial decisions, and, for some reason, Max challenging a literal ogre to an arm-wrestling match.

(He lost. Badly.)

And honestly?

This was turning out to be kind of fun.