Picked(20)

We walked down a duel set of stairs, also sporting the white shine look. I looked around the beautiful home, descending the stairs with Becker, wondering if this was his home in real life, or just in the virtual game.

“It’s safer this way.”

“Safer? What does that mean?” I asked. I wasn’t so interested in Becker Cole all of a sudden. I wasn’t interested in safe anymore. I had enough safe in my life. Becker lived in a virtual world. How much safer could I get? He couldn’t touch me.

“Hmm, I guess I mean, I like to do things outside the home, too. It’s just not necessary to have a good time.”

“Like what do you mean?” I asked, knowing exactly what he did for fun, or who he did for fun I should say.

“You ask too many unimportant questions. Go right.”

I turned right and took the glass elevator up the side of the building, overlooking the made-up city. Magically, we weren’t in the extravagant house anymore. For a game, it was pretty neat. Looking at a downward angle, my stomach fluttered a little as we ascended, going higher and higher. The doors opened to the rooftop with an elegant table for two. A pianist played a delicate tune and a waiter pulled out our chairs.

“Would you like the red or the white, Miss?” he asked, bowing with one of the chilled bottles.

“Um.”

“She’ll have the red, Mason,” Becker answered for me. I was still trying to figure out how I could hear him.

“Can he hear us?” I whispered. Both Becker and Mason laughed.

“Yes. He can hear you. You don’t have to whisper. He needs to hear you in order to give you what you like. Is there something specific I can get for you? What’s your favorite dish?”

“Hmm, that’s a tricky one. I don’t really have a favorite I guess. I like pizza.”

“What are you twelve?”

“Matt says I am,” I said, more to myself than to Becker.

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind. I’ll just let you order,” I decided. I didn’t know what to pick, surely fish sticks wouldn’t be on the menu.

“Do you like seafood?”

“I think so. It’s been a while since I’ve had it. My friend Justine and I ate at a seafood buffet last summer when we took a road trip to see Pink.”

“Pink?”

“Yeah, the singer. Best concert I’ve ever been to. Well, it was only the second, but still the best.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“You should check her out.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” he agreed. He was lying. He wouldn’t check her out. I bet he listened to Mozart and Chopin. I was beginning to get the stuffy vibe from him. “How about the marinated grilled shrimp? It’s delicious. You’ll love it.” He really didn’t give me a chance to respond. He turned to Mason and ordered. “Can we get the shellfish pasta with asparagus and the cheddar biscuits? That’ll be all. Thank you.” He looked at me and asked, “What?”

“What? What? I didn’t say anything.”

“You laughed. Why did you laugh?”

I laughed again. “I guess I find it a little ridiculous at you ordering our dinners, wait, pretending to order our meals.” I giggled at the silly game, but if I confessed the truth, my mouth salivated at the thought of what Becker had just fake ordered for us.

“Did you not like what I chose?”

“I loved what you chose. It’s the whole pretending thing that’s ridiculous. Hey, hang on. Someone’s at my door.” I walked away from my laptop, wondering who in the world would be at my door. I paid the paperboy, didn’t I?

“Miss Cass?” the man dressed in black attire questioned.

“Um, yeah,” I managed, hearing the echo of his voice. I turned back to my laptop, watching the man dressed just like Mason move past me. I was speechless. I just stood there, astonished.

Mason moved the clutter of magazines and mail from the end of the table. Sliding my laptop to face me on the table, he pulled the chair out for me with a smile and a nod.

I closed the door and walked to my requested seat. If I thought my mouth was watering before, that was nothing. I could smell butter and garlic. I knew what was under the silver platter. I wasn’t eating from a box. I sat and looked up to the game. Mason was serving us the same dish on the screen.

“Thank Mason, Cass,” I heard Becker in my speakers.

“Are you really Mason?” I asked, looking up.

He smiled. “Nah, that is,” he said as he pointed to the cartoon character.

I laughed. I liked Mason already. He held out his hand and I took it.

He shook three quick times. “My name is Mason. I work for Mr. Cole. It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss…?”