Score

“Score!” I throw my hands in the air for winning one more point in the ping-pong video game.

Hunter is beside me, laughing with disgust that this is his second consecutive game that he’s lost to me.

“I have to admit you're good,” he says, looking at me crestfallen, holding his wireless controller up.

“As a table tennis player, you are a great football player.” I laugh at him, and he grimaces at me in response. “I need to go home.” I look at my rose-coloured watch that I got from Hunter when we visited his family. “It's getting late.” He looks at me with his puppy-dog eyes.

“What if I don't want you to leave?” He grabs me by the waist, trying to seduce me. “I can for gourmet style pizza with jalapenos and pineapple which you like so much,” he says, trying to tempt me with food.

“Hahaha, I cannot, despite this offer being very tempting.” I look up, thinking very well on the subject. We've already talked about it though.

And how long we talked. We spent hours talking about it, and it's s