Page 64 of Even Beneath the Stars

"Oh, don’t worry, Rockwell." She leans in even closer, and I can feel the warmth of her breath brush against my jaw. "My cart’s got turbo boosters—you’ll be eating my glitter dust all the way to your sorry demise."

Leave it to Maggie to turn smack talk into a Broadway production.

"Glitter dust might be cute, but I’ll take horsepower over sparkles any day."

"Somanly,"she mocks.

Maggie’s sarcasm is sharper than my aim, and twice as fun to dodge.

"Soadorable."I tap my finger on the end of her nose in a move I intended to be condescending but reeks of flirtation.

"Finn tugs on each of our elbows. "You guys, it's my turn now, right? I get to play Maggie 'cos she won."

"Yep." I take a step back and hand him my striker. "Just… go easy on her, okay, pal? We need to make her keep feeling like she's got ashot at this."

Maggie and I do both dial it back for him, but the second he's done, our competitive spirits flare up again. We both rev the handlebars obnoxiously on the full-motion seats of my favorite vintage motocross racing game. Maggie's got serious skills, but I've spent countless hours in here perfecting these games.

"Dance Dance Revolution!" Finn points to the machine. "Please?"

I groan. "Really?"

Maggie's joyful smile dims suddenly. "I don't think so, Finny. Remember your brother got injured? And his ribs hurt a lot so—"

"You think a few bruises are gonna keep me from winning?" I stride toward the two side-by-side dance games.

"I'm serious, Xavier." Maggie's brow furrows. "Your ribs—"

"Aww, look who's worried about me." I hop onto the dance platform, ignoring the sharp stab in my side. "Or maybe you're just scared I'll destroy you."

"That isnotwhat this is about." She crosses her arms, but I catch the competitive glint in her eyes.

"Sure. I get it. Performance anxiety's rough." I turn on the machine. "No shame in backing down."

Poking her competitive pride is quickly becoming my new favorite pastime.

"Oh my God, you are impossible." She steps onto the platform beside me, lopsided hair buns bobbing. Her stare is laser-focused, like a predator deciding whether to play with its food or go straight for the kill. "Fine. But when you're crying later because everything hurts, remember this moment."

"The only crying will be you weeping over your crushed pride." I scroll through the song selection. "Pick your poison."

"'Butterfly' by Crazytown." She grins wickedly. "Expert mode."

"Classic choice." I hit select. If DDR were an Olympic sport, I’d be going for gold—bruised ribs and all. Because I've got a hell of a competitive streak too. "Get ready to see how it's done. I practically lived on this machine in eighth grade."

"Eighth grade?" She snorts. "That's cute. I was state champion three years running."

The arrows start flying across the screen. Even with my ribs screaming, muscle memory kicks in. Turns out pain’s just a background track when you’re locked in a battle of pride and DDR. My feet hit each arrow bang-on. Maggie matches me almost step for step, her movements fluid and precise.

"Not bad for a lumbering jock," she pants between combinations. Coming from her, it’s practically a compliment.

"You ain't seen nothing yet." I nail a particularly complex sequence, adrenaline coursing through me to counteract the throbbing along my entire right side as my combo counter keeps climbing.

Finn bounces between us, cheering us both on equally. "Go Xave! Go Maggie! Go Xave! Go Maggie!"

The song builds to its finale, and despite the pain shooting along my ribs with every breath, I'm not about to let up. This is the most fun I've had in a long time.

After three more rounds of DDR, we move on to the arcade games, and watching Finn's face light up as he destroys me in Mario Kart is awesome. Maggie's turned out to be a decent opponent too—she actually beat my high score in Galaga, which I'm definitely not bitter about.

We're deep into Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when I notice Maggie shifting from foot to foot behind us. I'm playing as Leonardo while Finn button-mashes Michelangelo through a sea of Foot Clan soldiers. I deliberately miss a few blocks, letting my health bar drop.

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