Read A Fox's Maid Online

Authors: Brandon Varnell

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy

A Fox's Maid (23 page)


Hey, Kevin, how do you know this weird pompadour kid?”


I don’t know him,” Kevin scowled.

He and Juan stood in front of the basketball arcade game, both prepared to start their competition. If Juan won, Kevin would have to let the matador boy ask Lilian out on a date. If Kevin won, Juan would stop bothering him and Lilian. This wasn’t something he wanted to do, making a bet like this, but he consoled himself with the knowledge that Lilian would never agree to go on a date with Juan.

Kevin still cursed himself for allowing Juan to decide what game they played first, though. Did pompadour boy know that shooting hoops was something he was notoriously bad at? Probably, but it was too late to turn back now.

Eric and Justin stood on either side of Kevin, but the twins were still off arguing about… something. He wasn’t sure if they even knew what they were arguing about anymore, but the last he saw of them, it looked like their fight would come to blows at the slightest provocation.


If you don’t know him, then why are you facing off against him?” Eric’s expression was the kind people gave when they thought someone was being an idiot. “Especially in a hoop shooting competition. Everyone knows you suck at basketball.”


I know that.” Kevin’s scowl deepened. “I’m well aware of how bad I am at shooting hoops. You don’t have to rub it in.”


Hey, don’t get mad at me. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t have let him sucker you into letting him pick the first game.”

“…
Shut up.”


Is there a problem?” Juan smirked at him, and in that moment, Kevin knew that his nemesis was perfectly aware of his lack of talent when it came to shooting baskets.


No,” Kevin lied. “There’s no problem.”


Good. Then let us begin.”

The buzzer went off and the gates rose, allowing the basketballs to roll towards them. The competition had begun.

It immediately became clear that neither of them was very good at basketball. However, between the two, Juan was noticeably better. For every one basket that Kevin made, Juan made at least two, sometimes even three.

By the time they reached the halfway mark, Kevin was sweating bullets. He looked at Juan as the other boy shot a basket that went in. Deciding that he needed to catch up to his rival, Kevin shot the ball in his hand, grabbed the next ball and shot that one, too. Over and over again he shot balls at the hoop, the rate at which he did so increasing in an attempt to catch up to Juan’s score.

All of them missed.

Kevin glanced over at Juan, who’d made another six baskets. The olive-skinned boy saw him looking and sent a smug grin his way that seemed to say, “you will never catch up to me.” He gritted his teeth and began shooting balls even faster.

Unfortunately, his hands had become slick with sweat. One of the balls he shot slipped from his grasp and beamed some poor boy in the head, knocking him unconscious.


Oh, my God! They killed Kenny!”


No, he’s not dead. Just unconscious.”


Oh… phew. What a relief.”

By the time the buzzer went off, the score was a lopsided 42:7.


It looks like this is my win,” Juan said with a triumphant smirk. Once Kevin got over his shock at being beaten so thoroughly―though he honestly shouldn’t have been that surprised―he glared at the other teen.


This isn’t over yet. Don’t forget that I get to choose the next challenge.”


So you do, but it will not matter.” Juan’s grin made Kevin twitchy. What he wouldn’t give to sock this matador costume-wearing boy in the face! “No matter the game you choose, I will win.”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll see.”

The next challenge was a police simulation game, one that offered several types of shooting range scenarios. The best part about the game―to Kevin―was its dual-wielding feature.


I hope you’re ready to lose,” Kevin said to Juan, two plastic guns already in hand.

Juan looked at Kevin through squinted eyes. “The only one who is going to be losing this day is you.”

He and Juan stared at each other, the ozone crackling as their hatred manifested on the physical planes of reality. Tendrils of lightning arced between them, striking the ground and making several people skitter away. Behind them, Eric and Justin stared.

“…
Inu… pissing…”


No kidding,” Eric agreed, “I’m not sure what’s more surprising; the fact that Kevin is actually getting into a fight because of a girl, or that there’s someone in this world with such an atrocious sense of fashion. I mean, I’m no fashionista or whatever, but even I know that outfit just sucks.”

Only after he said this, did Eric catch Justin’s comment.


Wait. What did you say?”

Justin merely tilted his head, his half-lidded eyes holding the same apathy they always did.

Eric sighed. “If I didn’t know you so well, I’d think you were insane, what with all the weird, random crap you say.”

“…
Bad?”


I guess not,” Eric shrugged, before realizing something. “Hey, I just noticed, we’re missing Alex and Andrew. Where are they?”

“…
There…”

Eric followed Justin’s pointing finger and nearly did a double take when he saw the large mosh pit of people fighting. Alex and Andrew were duking it out in the middle, and it was clear to him that they were fighting the hardest. Alex had a black eye and Andrew a busted lip.


When did that happen? How did that happen? And why the hell am I just now noticing it?”

“…
Snowball…”


Ah.”

Eric understood Justin’s one word answer. Alex and Andrew must’ve started throwing punches at one another, hitting several other people in the process. This had a snowball effect, turning the entire fiasco into an all-out brawl between complete strangers.

While Eric and Justin watched more people become embroiled in the epic battle taking place several yards away, Kevin and Juan started the next challenge.

Kevin’s hands came up with synchronized precision as six spheres were launched into the air. His fingers hit the trigger at a rapid fire-rate, quickly shooting down all six spheres barely two seconds after the game started.

Looking over at Juan and seeing the gaping eyes on the teen’s equally shocked face, Kevin grinned. “Something wrong, Juan? You’re looking a little pale.”

Juan glowered at him. “There is nothing wrong.”


Good, because the next simulation is starting.”


What?!”

Juan had no time to do anything as Kevin fired off round after round, hitting the targets popping on screen with pinpoint precision. Kevin held the plastic guns in front of him, his arms crisscrossing, the weapons tilted so the butts were connected, dual-wielding like a boss.

Juan could only use one gun, putting him at a severe disadvantage. He tried using two, but soon realized it made aiming more difficult.

A little known fact about Kevin: he was ambidextrous. For as long as he could remember, he’d been using both hands equally in everything he did, regardless of what it was. It wasn’t an acquired talent, but an inherent skill he’d been born with. Combine this ability with his impressive hand-to-eye coordination, gained through years of playing arcade-style shooting games, and Kevin had become practically unbeatable when it came to simulations like this.

Juan didn’t stand a chance in hell of winning.

By the time the game finished, Kevin had beaten Juan handily. It might’ve been more accurate to say that Juan had been crushed beyond all reasonable comprehension, which explained why the pompadour boy could do nothing but gape at the screen, his jaw practically hanging to the floor as his eyes bulged like two big, round hockey pucks. The expression looked particularly ridiculous when combined with his matador outfit and stupid-looking hair.

Kevin had a hard time keeping a straight face.


Looks like I win,” Kevin declared with an air of smug satisfaction. He wasn’t normally one to rub his victory in someone’s face―unless their name happened to be Kasey Chase―but in this instance, he had no issue doing just that.

Juan shook himself out of his stupor and shakily glared at Kevin. “We may be tied now, but there is still one more challenge left, and I shall not allow
a
campesino
like you to defeat m
e
.”


Ha!” Kevin barked a laugh. “You can think that way if you want, but we both know who’s going home the victor this day.” His eyes narrowed into slits. “So, how do we decide who gets to choose the next challenge?”

Juan clenched his left hand into a fist, placing it into his opened right palm. He then brought both toward his torso like he planned to unleash a
Kamehameha Wave
. “There is only one way to decide something like this,
si
?”


I see, so that’s how it is.” Kevin copied Juan’s actions, hiding his hands from view. “I have to warn you, I’m an expert at this game. There’s no way you can beat me.”


We shall see.”

Kevin and Juan stared at each other, eyes narrowed in fierce competition. The air became thick with tension―and dust, but mostly tension. It also became surprisingly loud, but Kevin and Juan hardly noticed the shouts and yelps of pain. They were too busy staring each other down like two samurai in an old-fashioned shogun stand-off.

A tumbleweed rolled between them. They ignored that, too. This was it. The final showdown. The battle that would decide it all. Only one of them would walk away the victor.

They took a deep breath—

“Jen! Ken! Pon!”


And exploded into action.


Silence. Kevin and Juan looked down at their hands, both of which were scissors. They looked back at each other and their eyes narrowed further. They drew their hands back, and the process started over.


Jen! Ken! Pon!”


Jen! Ken! Pon!”


Why are we saying this in Japanese?”


Jen! Ken! Pon!”


I don’t know. Does it matter?”


Jen! Ken! Pon!”


I guess not.”


Jen! Ken! Pon!”

Thus continued the very intense game of rock-paper-scissors. Over and over they tried beating the other, only to come up with matching hands. It seemed neither was able to win.

This game would have continued for some time were it not for a series of extenuating and unprecedented factors that happened several seconds later.

Like Kevin and Juan being pulled into the vicious battle of Shōnen proportions that had engulfed the entire arcade. It started when someone was shoved into Juan. The boy fell on his back, which caused Kevin to start laughing.

Had he been paying attention, he might not have been caught off guard when someone’s fist slammed into his face. Despite his surprise and the stinging pain in his cheek, Kevin had no issue retaliating like any normal teenager would. He hit the boy back, and thus, he and Juan became embroiled in the ever-expanding battle.

A large number of objects flew through the air: utensils, chairs, tables, a kitchen sink. As the battle continued, more and more of the surrounding property suffered from massive battle damage, until almost every arcade game, every stand and every booth became nothing more than smoking slag piles of plastic, metal and circuitry. Kevin would have wondered where the mall’s security forces were, but someone punched him in the face and all thoughts on security evaporated.

Needless to say, the manager wouldn’t be happy when he came back from his vacation to the Bahamas, and discovered that his beloved arcade had been demolished.

***

Kevin, Eric, Justin, Juan, the twins and everyone else who’d been present during the massive brawl―which everybody who’d been at the arcade―found themselves standing outside the now-destroyed arcade.

While the outside looked fine, the inside was a different story. Through the window, Kevin could see the massive amounts of destruction the impromptu war had caused. Arcade games were tipped over and sparking, their cables and circuits spilling out like innards. Chairs and tables lay in broken heaps. The bar looked like it had been put through a war zone. The floor had become pitted and scarred with the signs of battle. Everything was in ruins. Hanging on the automatic entrance was a large sign that read: “closed until further notice.”

Eric managed to put everyone else’s thoughts into words.


Well, this sucks.”

Several people nodded, Kevin included.


It seems we shall have to postpone our duel until further notice,” Juan conceded.

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