Page 97 of Heart Over Heels

We stopped at the front counter where Beck handed over his credit card while the dolls flocked around, pointing out games or activities that interested them. I took stock as well, starting on one side and panning over the entirety of the place.

The back of the building was dedicated to a twelve-lane bowling alley, outfitted with screens displaying dancing pins that congratulated good scores and mocked bad ones. A bar counter dominated one of the side walls, surrounded by bistro seating and a few pool tables.

In the center of the space, two raised rings were occupied by players in VR rigs who lunged, dodged, and swung at invisible foes.

Everything else was row after row of game machines. Skee-Ball ramps, basketball hoops, racing pods, claw machines, dance platforms, shooting galleries, lights, noise, and motion.

Beck finished up with the cashier and started passing out wristbands and game cards while lamenting the expense. Colette flicked him in the ear and murmured something about“the woes of fatherhood,”which earned her a flat look laced with reluctant fondness.

No sooner were the dolls equipped than they ventured out into the fray. The twins made a beeline for the VR arenas, Zephyr led Colette and Beck toward the bowling lanes, and Elliot pointed out an Avengers-themed video game for Oz.

Mercer and I watched them depart, then I was ready to tackle the madness myself.

We’d barely taken three steps into the maze of machines when something glimmered in the far corner. A glass room, lit like a jewelry case, with shelves full of goods. Among them I quickly identified a stack of oversized plushies, a bike, a karaoke machine, and a hot pink lava lamp.

I jerked on Mercer’s hand then pointed toward it.

“Are those prizes?” I asked.

He tracked my gesture then grinned. “Did I not mention that?”

“You didnot.” I looked back at the glowing treasure vault. “How do I get one?”

“By winning tickets.”

I scanned the floor with new intent. I didn’t see machines, scores, counters, and lights; I sawopportunities.

“How many tickets?” I asked, already calculating.

“Well,” Mercer said. “Unless you want a Chinese finger trap or one of those sticky hands that collect lint like a magnet, probably a lot.”

My attention snagged on a machine near us with bright red signage advertising a 10,000 TICKET BONUS. My tail shivered with excitement.

“Is ten thousand a lot?” I asked.

Mercer laughed. “I’d say so, but it’s been a while?—”

“Come on!”

I sprang forward, hauling Mercer along behind until we arrived before a large, glass-cased machine. A wheel spun rapidly inside with segments marked +10,+50,+100,POP,and a dozen other rewards. A red balloon sat beneath the wheel, half inflated, twitching with each pass of the mechanism like it was waiting for the right moment to detonate.

I glanced at my game card, then at the machine, then at Mercer. “How do I…”

Mercer reached for the card. “Just swipe here.” He guided my hand to a little glowing pad. It beeped, the machine lit up, and music played.

“Now you wait for the wheel to spin,” Mercer continued, pointing. “And when you think it’ll hit POP, you press that button right there.”

“That’s it?” I asked skeptically.

He dipped his chin. “That’s it.”

Suspiciously simple.

The wheel whirred and lights strobed. I tracked the POP segment, narrowed my eyes, waited, then pressed.

The machine chirped a cheerful ding, the balloon swelled, and a measly strip of tickets slithered out.

Five.