Alex

Well, looks like my dad is late... again... as if I didn't see this coming. I'm waiting for my dad to pick me up from the school and drop me off at the gym where I have my mixed martial arts classes right now, but he hasn't shown up. Oh, I should probably introduce myself. I am Alex Rothen. Just your average high school kid, light brown hair, blue eyes, tall, there's probably at least one of them in your grade. I'm also well off in the ways of money, since my dad is a lawyer, though I try not to let it get to my head. I go to one of the many private schools that you can find around the country, and this one in particular was famous for its athletes. I wasn't an athlete myself, exactly, but I did like to be active rather than sitting in a classroom. Naturally, I insisted that I should either go to a school that suited my talents, or maybe just a public school. My dad and I argued vehemently about the merits of public school, but it is pretty hard to argue with a lawyer. I ended up going to this school as a compromise, since the other school he wanted to send me to was famous for the amount of students that went on to law schools across the country. I figured that if it was going to be a private school, it should be one that I at least can find something to do with. As much fun as it was to argue, I didn’t see myself as a very convincing person, so I decided that I would try to seem smart in a school filled with jocks rather than argue with him even more.

The building looked plain enough, a red brick building with some lettering on the side. Our sports areas were indoors, which was really nice, but for baseball we had to go to the other school. Our lawn was kept neat and tidy, thanks to the private groundskeepers that the school hired. Other than this, there were no real fancy features of the building; nothing that made it stand out from all of the others, aside from the massive sign that showed when school events would occur. I peered at one of the rooms on the second floor of the school, directly on the corner. That room was where I had my Global History class with most of my friends. That was always the highlight of my day, even though the class itself was incredibly boring. I spent many classes just staring out the window at traffic. The windows were washed daily, and because of this, light glinted off of the class room’s window directly into in my eyes with the sun’s full glare, pulling me out of my daydream, blinding me a little and causing me to look away quickly.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw my friend Josh sitting on his stoop across from the school. He had a pretty small house, green walls, plain black shingles. Well, I say it’s small, but it is really a lot bigger on the inside. He might not have a rich lawyer for a parent, but I still consider him a lot luckier than I am. He never has to put up with a parent that always forgets about you. His mom is always right on time, and keeps careful watch over him if he ever gets out of line. Honestly, I’m pretty sure that it’s because of his mother that he’s one of the only other straight edge guys I know; not even the worst kids in school want to make that lady mad. He waved and asked, "Hey Alex, wanna hang out over here and wait for your dad? He's probably not going to be here any time soon."

He was right, and I went over to stop the sense of boredom that was clouding my mind. "Anything interesting happening tonight?" I asked, "I really want to get out of my house and away from my dad's new soul mate." I spat the last two words out of my mouth as if they were poisonous.

My dad got a new wife after my mom divorced him named Tori (well, “Victoria”). She always pretends to like me when he's around. Honestly, it’s one of the most stereotypical relationships possible, but I guess there’s a reason these stereotypes exist, right? All she says is "Oh, Dan, you have the perfect little angel," and, "I wish that Alex would never grow up and we would have our little boy forever!" But in reality, the reality where my dad wasn't within earshot, little Mrs.Perfect drops her act and speaks with ice in her voice and is absolutely insufferable. She breaks things, and for when my dad comes in she always uses the same damn excuse to blame me; "He's just not over the divorce between you and Agnes." Then I have to go see a counselor for months, courtesy of my dad. And my dad’s stupidity is almost as bad! He just goes along with her, maintaining the same frustrating air of obsequiousness. I personally think Tori wants me to run away, and I think I just might. When I’m at home, I feel as though I’m in a personal solitude. I constantly feel as though I’m in between being berated by either my stepmother for something I didn’t do, or by my dad for something that my stepmother did.

And Agnes, for all you who picked up on the name before, was my mother. My REAL mother. She divorced my dad when I was 8, saying that my father was always out of town and could never help raise me. She said that if Dad didn't get a job closer to home that didn't involve so much traveling, she would leave him with me (I know, that seems a bit harsh, but thats just how she was, and I loved her for it). My dad refused, saying that his job as a lawyer paid well, and then she packed up and left. Now this isn’t to say that she was the #1 parent in the world; late nights out, heavy drinking, and the acrid smell of cigarettes that always clung to her clothes were regular staples of her character. But I loved her; she brought me up as a pretty normal kid, despite her being so far off. Well, that's pretty much my life story... As much of it as I'm going to tell you for now, anyway.

Now here we are in a house in a great neighborhood, with a boatload of cash, and, ironically, the only actual good thing that happened to me was meeting Josh (no homo). He lives a few miles from me and is now my best friend, and even better, we have all the same classes. Now I was trudging across the street to his house and I thought about something. I've never heard Josh talk about his own life. I've never really wondered why, though. I know that his dad died in a car accident while driving drunk, but never much more than that, other than that his mom is very nice and allows a party a week, which would get tiring if she didn't have a maid and a full blown party room, which was the converted basement with a cooler, pool table, 64" flat screen TV, a super legit gaming setup, and an actual indoor, heated pool, and on top of that, it was soundproofed for his major stereo system, which was awesome! Hell, all he needed was a coach and some hostlers to pick up his guests and he'd have one of the best party spots in the city. I said before it was bigger on the inside, but I'm pretty sure that the basement alone at least doubles the square footage of the house. His mom had to be swimming in cash for that kind of renno in the city. It probably even took up the basements of the houses on either side of theirs, now that I think about it.

I actually did ask him about his life once. I think it was something simple, like “How can you afford all this stuff?” I remember him replying curtly, “My dad just had some good life insurance.” He didn't explain any more, and I got the message pretty quick. Not too many personal questions. From then on, I always remembered to curb my tongue about his past. Trust me, Josh was a big guy, and not someone that you wanted to make angry. Even the people we know at school respect him for being one of the bigger guys, so he hasn't had a single problem with bullies. Although once, a few months ago, some moron came up and began bothering him, and challenging him to a fight. Josh did not want to do it, but the little punk decided that it would be a good idea to slap a food tray out of his hands. I'm pretty sure that guy still has a few months to go drinking his food through a straw.

"Nah, but come back next week and you can help with the food and games." He replied to the question I had asked before my flashbacks. I realized that I was still standing in the middle of the road, and quickly jogged over and sat down on Josh’s stoop. "I need some drinks for my cooler, non-alcoholic, of course, my mom would throw a fit."

"Crap, that rules out Bud Light then, huh?" I joked. We laughed for a bit at my lame joke, both of us knowing that his mom wouldn't mind one bit if there was even a few kegs down there. In fact, she'd probably go get them. But we basically kept the parties clean and fun, which was another reason that I loved having parties there. Drugs and booze weren't things that I wanted to deal with, no matter how bad Tori made my life. Since I was already here, I decided to ask if I could spend the night. "Can I sleep over? I really need to be away from Tori."

"If your old man says it's okay, then sure. I don't think my mom would mind some company, the house is pretty empty when there's not a party." He replied, then asked solicitously, “Don't you have martial arts classes today? I don't quite think your dad would appreciate you skipping out on them, especially since you were so adamant about going to them in the first place.”

I hesitated for a second, and allowed a ghost of a smile to come across my face. But if anyone looked closely, they’d see that it didn't quite reach my eyes. “If theres one good thing about having an awful parent, its that they don't care where you go or what you do.” I said facetiously, and I laughed a little bit. “So I'm pretty sure he won't mind me skipping out on my class once. Besides, I think he just wants me out of the house for a little alone time with his beauty queen”. I made a sour face, which got Josh to laugh. Apparently he didn't notice my facial expression, which was good. He might be my best friend, but he still didn't understand how bad the relationship between my father and I was.

I quickly dialed up my home number, and got an answering machine. I sighed. This happened pretty often, so I just left a message, that he would undoubtedly hear in his study, with the answering machine just outside the door. I was sure that he would be there, pouring over some random lawyer paperwork, or snogging Tori. Either way, he’d know that he should just stay home and not worry about picking me up. Not that he normally worries about it, but he usually gets here at some point. “Alright, thats done. What's on the agenda today?”

===============================================

A few hours later and I had my sleeping bag, a pillow, and an empty can or two (or thirty) of Coca-cola that were in, and in some cases where we missed our throws, around the garbage can. We were hanging out in Josh's basement, chillin' out and playin' CODfish (the name Josh and I have officially dubbed Call of Duty's nickname, for absolutely no reason). After I had monstrously dominated a game of Domination, Josh says, "Alex, wanna go down to the ruins? I hear there's going to be a massive game of paintball. I heard over 30 people are going, probably more once word gets out to other people."

Shocked at this news, I immediately shoot him a look. You’re just telling me this now!?” I accosted him jokingly, and he pretended to be afraid, then waited a bit for my reply. "Of course, my gear is still here, right? I swear, if you lost it, something bad is going to happen!" I joked again, and mockingly cracked my knuckles for emphasis. Now, theres something about paintball that I have to tell you guys. Or girls. Or...whatever, heres something that you should probably know; Paintball is my escape from my home life, Tori, and my ever-oblivious dad...so I always relish a chance for some paintball. of course, it helps that I'm one of the best players in town, and Josh could make some amazing mods that can catch anyone by surprise. We never play with the same exact gear twice, which is part of what makes the game so fun!

"Of course, let me get it real quick. It's in my workshop, I modified your gun so it shoots faster. I tried it out, and it works great.” Josh was always tinkering with stuff, whether it was electronics, motors, or paintball gear, he always managed to do something to make it better. He was going to school for professional engineering, which makes sense since he can improve basically anything that he hasn't already touched.

*************************************************************

"Behind you, 3 guys, moving in fast" I checked behind me and saw them.Popopop! Popopop! Popopop! The auto was quite a bit faster than the normal rate, thanks to Josh, and I hit the guys before they even saw me. "2 more, three o'clock!" I turned to my right and iced the guys trying to take a shot at me. Another 5 to my kill...erm, splatter count? Whatever, this was getting heated. I didn't have time to think about what to call it.

"Thanks, Recon." I said. Josh and I had headset links, and he found a high vantage point up a tree somewhere, and gave me continuous feed on where the enemies were. Recon is the nickname I gave him for doing that every game, and since thats how he got the nickname, I decided to only call him that during games. I mean, it would be kind of awkward to call you best bud “Recon” during class, right? I took cover under a crumbly wall, and scanned the area. there was a dense thicket of trees on my left, and a couple walls to my right, and a few open spaces that people were firefighting in.

"There's a guy over the wall to your right, in a corner across the courtyard." he informed me. I switched to single fire and took aim. Pop Pop Pop!

"Got him, where's my next target?"

"3 yards to your right, 4 man group." Time to switch back to auto, Popopopopop! Popopopop!

"they're down." I ran down a path to my left and saw a firefight going on between two groups. No one spotted me yet, so Ill tell you how most paintball games went down in this town. There were a large set of ruins surrounded by some loose woods and thick undergrowth, with some paths running between clearings. This was right in the middle of the town, and the town usually had it off limits, but lately they have kept them open and made them an official paintball arena, open for either reserved games or massive campaigns like this one. "lets make some allies, Recon." The group to my left was losing, having only a couple ditches and trees to shield them, so thats who I was gonna help. I flanked the 8 guys on my right, first chucking a rock to make them look the other way. Popopopop! Popopop! Popop! Popopop!

There was one guy who survived the onslaught and tried to return fire, but then someone from the other team shot him in the helmet. I looked to my left and saw one of their guys waving me over. I went to secure the allies, and only caught the the guerilla force sneaking behind the other team out of the corner of my eye. Popopopop! Popopopopop! I shot so fast no one even realized that I had moved, but my gun was up, and the small force was down.

The guy who waved came forward, "Thanks for the help, man. We woulda been gone! The name's Jack." Jack, obviously the leader of the bright blue uniformed group, held out his hand. I shook it. We each kept shaking the other’s hand until one of us gave up. It was silly, but we each wanted to let the other know that we were in charge. Finally, knowing that he wasn't going to give up for a while, and conscious of the fact that we were being watched by his whole team, I let go first. I saw a small glint of satisfaction in his eyes, but it darkened just as fast as it appeared. “What group do you belong to?” he asked, looking puzzled by my red and green armband, with the insignia of a gear and a sword.

“Its a just a band for my friend, Josh, and I. We work together at these things, so we made our own Band.” I told him. I should probably explain that he teams were made up of anywhere between 1-15 people, and there could be as many different teams as there were team indicators. You could make an alliance by putting a band around your arm with the same color or symbol as your allied team. These “Ally” bands were usually carried by the team leader. Jack had his bunch of merry green-banded fellows, which were apparently elite paintballers from the west coast. They were in the area for the tourney next month.

“Oh, how nice, a couple guys just going out on a date, then?” He asked, and grinned widely, knowing that he didn't mean offense. “Can you excuse me for just a moment?” He asked. I knew why; he wanted to deliberate with a few of his veteran members about whether or not to trust me. This was pretty understandable, because at any time an ally could throw off the wristband and begin firing on the team they were going to be allied with. This just seemed like a bad idea to me, especially since I was currently outnumbered nine-to-one. He came back to me and handed one of his ally Bands. It was the same green as theirs, and the same paintball insignia, but it also had two yellow stripes on either side of the picture, indicating that I was an ally. “Welcome to the team, Alex, and thanks for the help.”

Eventually he ordered the team split into three groups to cover more ground, and they all responded complacently and quickly. That meant that there were 3 squads of 3, and I made the fourth person in Jack’s group. They stayed in contact thanks to walkie-talkies given to each squad leader. We changed the frequency to one that only we were on, and I stayed with Jack's group as we hunted for more of the enemy teams. We scouted down a few alleys, clearings, and suspicious corners, getting a few guys but remaining relatively bored. Jack quickly let me take point, since I had run these ruins dozens of times already.

We were walking down another alley that ended in a T, when the radio clicked on inside my helmet, surprising me for a second. Then Recon brusquely said, "Alex, 5 people in a circle formation, use 'Mr.Frisbee'." One of Josh’s favorite creations was "Mr.Frisbee", which was kind of a disc with paintballs and Co2, and you could throw it after pulling a pin, and when the pin was out for long enough, the paintballs would shoot, and ice everyone in the area. It had about a ten foot range, and was insanely useful. The group was about five people in a circle, or a huddle or something. I turned the corner to the right, and help up a hand to tell Jack’s group to hold their fire. In the back of my head, a small part of me was interested to see what they would make of our secret device. Of course, it wasn't that secret, since everyone in town had had it used against them at least once.I threw Mr.Frisbee and it landed perfectly in the center of the five people who formed a lovely circle while discussing where they should go, and the ignition went off perfectly. Every person was hit by at least two paintballs. Then the team and I moved to a small clearing with trees around it.

"There are 5 people in a group around the corner on your left in a firefight with one of your other squads, their backs are turned." Ever helpful Radar. I gave the squad the the "hold up" signal, and poked around the corner. Popopopopop! Popopop! They were down, but not after the other squad lost a couple men. "another group of 3, almost at your location coming in from behind." I signaled and we all faced behind us a decimated the small group.

"Time to get back into one group," said Jack.

I replied, "I was thinking the same thing. Lets move to the center courtyard, there are always some people there."

Jack used his radio to tell the other groups to be careful, and move to the center of the field. It was a while before he got back from the conversations. "We lost one of our squad leaders, and group three lost everyone BUT the squad leader. Once we get back, its going to be hard to win this thing...Jesus, if this is the pre-game, just imagine the actual tournament!" I could see the excitement in Jack's eyes, coupled with a hint of something a bit scarier, and immediately felt a wave of relief that he was on my side. I knew that this guy would make sure he won a tournament, and I've already seen for myself that he had the skill to back it up. I reflected quickly about how I usually look the exact same way, and I laughed to myself.

A small kid, who I later learned was named Greg, was sitting on the side, listening to our conversation. "Well, guess its time to get moving." We all agreed, picked up our gear, and started moving towards the center. We were leaving our clearing, and the second we were clear, I heard the sounds of another firefight spilling into where we just were. We laughed for a bit, at our great timing, then continued on our path to the kill zone.

About halfway there, we lost one of our guys in a surprise attack,but quickly took cover and picked off about eight more. We pressed on, ducking between paths and keeping our noses out of the bigger fights. With only three of us, it may not be a very good idea to instigate something. When Greg, Jack, and I reached the center, there was no one...It was kind of creepy.

"You'd think there would be someone here to greet us, eh?" Jack said, a little too loudly. I looked around and saw what he meant.

"Yeah, I can't believe no one is here." There were people in trees all around the center, but we were in a perfect spot, where they could only see the tops of our heads, thanks to the walls. They didn't think we saw them yet, but I could see them aiming down their sights. Jack looked me in the eye, and I knew that we were going to have fun. He mouthed, "One," I got my gun ready, and Greg got the message too. Apparently, he’d done these things before. We each angled ourselves in a different direction, "Two," we got into a running stance, "Three!" He shouted. I ran down the center, while Greg took right and Jack got the left side. I hit two of the people on the other end of the clearing, and another one to my right. I heard Greg yell “Hit!” as he was hit by one of the guys in the trees. I looked back to take some pot shots at the guy who just hit Greg and make him take cover before I turned back to the front. There were a couple people who were hanging out near the courtyard that were drawn in because of all the action.

Jack appeared on my left side, trying to hit a couple people who were on the opposite end of the courtyard. He had apparently dealt with his assailants with ease. "Alex, we should probably get going, there’s going to be so many people here in a little while, I doubt even WE can take them." He said, letting a note of sarcasm creep into his voice, but I got the message.

"Alright, tell your guys that we have to meet somewhere else. Radar, what tree did you climb up this time?" I said, addressing our invisible guardian.

"Well, I dont think that-" Popopop! Popopopopop! "-That is such a good idea, Alex! I have some company, but they cant see where I am. They are taking some shots into the branches, but they haven't got me yet...God, how many people were invited to this paintball match? I thought this place was a little bit more-" Popopopopop! Popopop! "-Private than this!"

I heard shots coming from somewhere a bit to the north of us, so I told Jack thats where his guys should meet us. I started to travel at a jog, then slowly speeding up to a sprint. I could hear Jack staggering alongside me, he was probably wiped after the skirmishes we've been in. God, he'd better be able to hold out, or he's gonna be on his own.

I made it to the clearing with a massive oak in the center, immediately shooting some guys who had their sights up the massive tree that was where Radar was hiding. I lost Jack somewhere in the trails, he had to catch his breath. I didn’t pause when I heard him call out to say he was taking a break. I knew that when he caught his breath, he’d know where to go. This place the center of the action, with over 5 different Band colors fighting around the meager cover provided. I came out in one of the corners, so no one noticed me yet, but soon they would. I quickly saw who was taking cover where. There was a group of red-bands taking cover against a crumbly wall, about 4 of them. The wall was large and didn’t have that many holes, so they were safe from most of the fire. Another group, with blue bands on their arms, was taking cover in one of the inflatable bunkers that the players had put out there before the game to add some more cover. One guy was hiding behind a pillar, getting shot at from the first two groups, but he managed to stay clean for a while before getting his leg pegged hard with a red paintball. There were a couple of guys doing the same thing I was doing, peeking around the corner and seeing who was where. After watching them for awhile, I noticed their green wristbands with a helmet insignia and began to wave to them. People from the red and blue groups saw me before my allies with the green wristbands did, and they started taking shots at me.

I couldn’t look into the courtyard without risking some balls to the face, so I called in to my good ol’ pal. “Radar, a little help? Tell me how I can get to the tree, and I’ll do my best to get there.”

There was silence for a second, then the static clicked in on my earpiece. “Alright, theres a small ditch next to you, if you dive you can make it without getting hit. I’m pretty sure its deep enough for you to use it as some reasonable cover, and it leads right behind the tree. Look for a hollow about 40 feet up.”

I saw the ditch he was looking at, but I was still being shot at, and didn’t want to poke my head out any further, much less go bounding out there. I might as well have had a target strapped to my chest. I heard Jack come running up behind me, and then inspiration struck me like a bolt of lightning to a kite with a key attached to the string. Jack started to make a joke about something, but I immediately cut him off and began telling him my plan. “Do you still have your radio for the other squads?”

“Yeah, Its righ-”

“Let me see it.”

“Why? Don't you have yours?”

“Dropped it while I was running. Let me see yours really quick.”

“Well that was smart of you.”

“Whatever, Just let me see yours”

“How do you ask?”

“Ugh....Fine, May I please see your radio?

“Thats better. Here you go, pal!” Jack handed me the radio, and that same spark of satisfaction from when I let go of his hand first was behind his eyes again. And it was gone just as quick as the first time, his broad smile replaced with a serious expression. “So, what's your plan?”

“Listen, and you’ll find out.” I said curtly. I checked to see if the radio was working, and hearing positive responses from the other side, I began to explain my plan. “Alright, I saw the four of you from the other two groups on one side of this clearing. I'm going to need you to shoot at these guys aiming at me and start up a distraction. As soon as these guys look away, I'm going to split and aim for that ditch in front of this opening, and start crawling up that tree. Jack here is going to cover me, and I'm going to find my way to my guy up there. remember, you don't need to concentrate on your shots, just make sure that they are distracting enough to get these meatheads away from me. You guys ready?”

“Yes” came the reply from the radio, and from Jack as well.

“Alright. Lets get this party started. On three. One,” I saw jack starting to take aim. “Two,” I poked my head out from the corner and saw the guys on the other side getting ready, and ducked just in time to hear 3 distinct whizzing noises go past where my head had just been. “Three!” I heard some more popping, and I waited for a second or two. I heard a couple guys call “Hit!” but since there were no more voices I figured they’d all taken cover. I jumped out from my hiding spot and dove for the ditch. Even from up in his tree, Josh knew that the miniature ravine was about 3 feet deep. That was enough to get me wll and hidden before anyone else began tentatively poking their heads out. Jack began poking his head around the wall just like I did before, making everyone think that I was still there. Of course, his team knew better. I clicked on my headset between Josh and I, “Alright Recon, I'm in the ditch. It looks fairly straightforward from here, I'll be there soon.”

I heard a small chuckle from the other side, “Gotcha Alex. Don't keep me waiting, its getting pret-ty boring up here.” Said Josh, and even though he said it was boring, I could hear paintballs hitting the branches around him.

I made my way to the tree and quickly scrambled up, taking care to not show any part of my body to an assailant. Luckily for me, there was almost no space between the back of the tree and a wall, so no one could shoot at me from this angle without exposing themselves. Once, while I was about 27 feet up, the bark I was resting my foot on gave way, and I was left dangling in the air by my right arm and a small reserve of willpower. I recovered quickly, and hurried up the last ten feet or so to where I found Josh sitting neatly in a large hollow part of the tree. he had put some camo netting up, so it was harder to pick that spot out from the rest of the tree, despite the figures now moving around inside it.

“‘Bout time you got here, I was falling asleep!” He joked. I pretended not to be amused.

“Whatever, pal. What do you say we start shooting some people? We have a guy to our left, where I was, and four more on the opposite side of the courtyard. If we lay down covering fire from up here, we can let them advance to a better spot until they can finally get the last group.”

“Sounds good, esé. Tell your little buddies down there the plan.” He laughed at his use of the spanish slang term, but he used it so often that I decided to pass on the laughter. I relayed the command to the groups below, and slowly they gained ground as we rained down some paint from the sky. Using this tactic, we, and our allies on the ground, mopped up everyone there, as well as some people who began to try and walk into the courtyard. As soon as the last guy down there went down, there were 3 of our allies still clean. Then we heard the airhorn start going.

The game refs kept careful track of everyone who was still in the game, and whom made allies with whom. When only one team and their allies were left standing, they blew a massive air horn from the center of the ruins, which was now a paintball gear shop and a major tourist attraction. Josh and I climbed down from the tree and met up with the other group of guys. We all high-fived after introductions, and then Jack decided that it was a good idea to make fun of Josh for sitting up in a tree for the whole match.

“Hey, big guy, must've seen a lot of action way up in your perch, eh?” He laughed and flashed a white-toothed grin at my partner.

“Yeah yeah yeah, make fun of me if you want. But based on the way you smell, you seem to have gotten a good workout from all the running you were doing.” Now it was Josh’s turn to grin, but Jack already had a retort ready.

“Hey, man, this is the smell of victory! Here, I'll help you out a little, make you smell like you actually played a little bit.” And he began wiping his sweat towel all over Josh, making him smell like he just ran a mile. Jack was shoved away pretty quickly, grinning the whole time. I guess we were all just kind of giddy with some adrenaline from the game still in our veins.

====================================================

We made it to the center building, where the refs gave us each half the prize money, since we were allies. That meant we each walked away with a cool $200 bucks in our pockets, and we all whooped with joy. More for the joy of winning than the money, since we were all used to getting even bigger payoffs.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye for now. And remember, during the tournament there are no alliances! Just you and us, kids.” Jack said, laughing and grinning wickedly. The spark of satisfaction was in his eyes now, and it was staying there. No need to disguise it or shove it away. He'd be pretty content with that win for a while, and I can't say I feel any different. “Yeah, that is if you make it past all those other scary teams without our help, ese.” I replied quickly. I had no doubt that I would eventually see them all again, in less than friendly situations. But for now, and for the next few weeks, we might as well have been best friends for years. And the spanish slang term just seemed spring off my tongue before I’d realized that I said it. “Haha, but for now, if you guys are staying in town for the next month, I can show you the best places around here to have a bit of fun. I'm sure you’re just ecstatic about blowing that cash you just got, so why don't you treat us to lunch?”

“Alright, big guy, just lead the way.” And with that, Josh, Jack, Jacks 9 teammates, and I all set off to find the nearest, greasiest burger joint we could find.