Summer Lights and City Nights

―iv. carnival

―iv. carnival

It’s such a stupid game, Marceline thinks, throwing a dart at a balloon? How pointless. Why were all carnival games so stupid and pointless?

Marceline picks up her last dart, aims it carefully and throws. Not only does she miss but the dart actually bounces off the blue balloon. 

Bounces.

This game is so obviously rigged.

She sneers at the game’s attendant who asks if she would like to pay another five dollars to play again (she already spent like ten bucks on the dumb game so no she would not like to play again).

Marceline looks over at Prez. He is doing wonderfully. In fact, it looks like he hasn’t missed yet. Show off, she thinks but out loud she says, “It’s almost scary how accurate your aim is.”

“Yeah,” he says (and Marceline tries not to think about how incredibly adorable he looks when he’s about to throw the dart because his tongue pokes out just a bit and he looks so focused and yeah he’s still talking shut up Marceline), “I used to take archery when I was twelve. My dad wanted me and my brothers to take up sports. Archery was the only one that really appealed to me. Soccer too, I guess.”

He throws the dart, it travels fast and hits a red balloon. 

“You have brothers?” she asks.

“Three. All older than me and all assholes,” he says, “but I love ‘em anyway.”

He throws again. This one misses by a couple of centimeters.

“Oh. I didn’t know that about you,” Marceline says (and suddenly she can picture him with three older brothers being picked on and laughing and playing around with them and it’s very endearing), “I’m an only child. Well, at least for another three months.”

“That’s cool,” Prez says and then he turns and grins at her, “You’d be a great older sister. I can tell.”

The last dart hits a balloon right in the center. The attendant claps and asks if Prez would like to play again but Prez just shakes his head and asks if he can just a pick a prize please?

Marceline isn’t paying attention though because her face feels really hot and all she can think about is how he thinks she’ll be a great older sister.

“Which one?”

She blinks. “What?”

Prez points to the top tier of stuffed animals, where all the large ones are. “Pick an animal, any animal,” he says and grins.

“But I didn’t win,” she says automatically.

“I know. But I saw you eyeing that poor disproportioned octopus since we stopped by this booth,” he says and it’s true. 

“Three tentacles are so much longer than the rest and the smile was threaded so crookedly. You can just tell that it’s the kind of prize no one would want and would just get left behind and I felt so bad for it,” she explains. 

Prez laughs. “You do realize it’s inanimate and does not have any actual feelings right?” he asks, teasing.

Marceline sniffs. “You have obviously never seen any of the Toy Story movies so shut up.”

Prez just laughs at her and gives her this lopsided smile before turning to the game attendant. “The octopus all the way on the right please,” he says. The guy takes the octopus off the shelf and hands it over to Prez who holds it out to Marceline.

The plush toy is soft in her hands. She loves it already.

“Thanks,” she says when she really wants to say, ‘it’s kind of weird how you noticed that. but weird in the good kind of way.’ She holds it close to her.

“I think I’m gonna name him after you.”

He gives her this amused look. “I don’t know if I should feel highly honored or slightly insulted.”

“Honored. Definitely,” Marceline says and smirks.

“Well then Marcy, I am honored that you have decided to name your deformed stuffed animal after me.”

She laughs embarrassingly loud and Prez’s grin only gets wider.

“C’mon,” he says and takes her hand, “Let’s go on the ferris wheel.”

.

.

(he doesn’t let go of her hand, not even when they are waiting on the line for the ferris wheel. her hand feels sweaty but his grip only tightens

she doesn't really want to let go anyway)