The two of us race for quite some time before we stop to get dinner. The pizza came out of the oven about 20 minutes ago. Okay, so maybe that's not really a long time, but longer than I had imagined we would race before going to get the food. I get up from the couch to get the food, while Rebecca practices her racing in the single player campaign. She started messing up in the last race, so I suggested that she get a little practice in and not worry about the food. She had gotten frustrated when she messed up, so she was perfectly alright with that idea.

As I get to the kitchen, I let out a quiet sigh, completely overtaken by the sounds of high-speed racing and weapons firing that are coming from the living room. I'm glad for that, too. I get out two small plates and distribute the pizza between them. As I start cutting up Rebecca's portion, the entire pieces two big for her to pick up at one time, I start to think. The ideas and worried I had awhile ago were pushed out when she spoke to me, but they gradually came back when we were playing together. I guess things aren't as easy to let go for me, as they are for others.

The time we had spent racing, I had spent thinking. I focus on the race, but I also focus on the thoughts. Times like this are when I don't think it's a good thing to be able to multitask. As I think back on it, I can't help but think more and more on the fact that Rebecca might be seeing part of Melissa in me. She hasn't shown me any signs that she doesn't like being around me or that she wants me to leave. I can't stop thinking about it, though. Why? Why is this so frequent in my brain today? Why am I obsessing over this? That answer, I do not know. I can only guess that it's because I desperately don't want her to leave.

I quickly finish the cutting and pick up the two plates, not wanting to get lost on a mental tangent, like I have done before. The food is already cooler than I had hoped, and I don't want Rebecca to be coming in here to see what I'm doing. These thoughts are just thoughts. Nothing more, nothing less. They will go away, in time. All I need to do is focus on getting back to the racing, not acting like Melissa, and everything is going to be fine. With the two plates, I slowly walk back into the living room, where a race is ending. As I walk in, I hear the announcer on the television congratulating “Player 1” for winning 1st place.

“Nice job, Rebecca.” I say, trying to send my voice over the sound coming out of the television. The scenario was perfect for this, as I just passed the couch when I opened my mouth. From Rebecca, I hear a scream and the controller falls off the couch and hits the ground. The scream makes my own body quiver, for a second. I strain to maintain the hold on the plates, so I don't spill them. I then walk forward and set the plates down on the table. The moment the plates do touch down, though, I get my punishment for what I did when I spoke to her.

I feel Rebecca's tiny fist punching into the side of my arm. My hand comes to it and rubs against it. Although she's such a short person, she still packs quite the punch. I imagine I'll have a nice, small red spot on the arm tonight. “Don't scare me like that!” she yells, muting the television in the process. “I didn't know you were back there. You could have given me a heart attack!” Her arms cross and she looks at me with this face that I don't even know I can describe with a single emotion. She partly looks like she's pouting, but she also looks like she's upset. What do you even call that?

I look down at her, mentally shaking my head past this look she's giving me. “Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” I'm unsure of what else I can really say to her. I didn't mean to scare her, or call upon her wrath of punching. I just tried to make my voice loud enough for her to hear me past all of the noise the television's speakers were making. If I want to be able to make it so I don't act like Melissa, I have to be mindful of everything I say or do to her, from now on. I do not mind this, though I am a little scared, scared that she might already feel like I'm like Melissa.

I try not to show it as she shakes her own head and sits back down on the couch. “Well...” she starts, trying to bring out that cocky attitude of her into her speech. “...just don't do it again! I scare easily, sometimes! That's why we never watch scary movies!” My head impulsively nods to her as I begin to walk around the couch and lean down. After picking up the controller, I hand it to her, a forced grin on my face. “Here. I'm sorry again about scaring you. It won't happen again. I promise!” She jerks the controller away from me as I sit myself back down.

Unfortunately, she doesn't do anything with it. She just hands it back to me. “It better not! Here, you play for awhile, if you want. I'm kinda hungry right now. Pull over my plate, if you would.” I look at her, and then at the table. Yeah, that's right. She's already back to giving me orders. I don't mind it, though. The plate's too big and heavy for her to pick up, anyways. I lean forward, retrieving her plate and bringing it back to the couch. I set it down between us, being too big to just sit on her lap. As I do, she starts picking up the small pieces, as if they were chips, biting into them. What's a small bite to me is a rather large one to her.

As she eats for awhile, I use my free hand to get the other plate, starting to eat my own pizza. The game can wait. I'm hungry, too, just as Rebecca is. This was our plan, anyways. She wanted to come down and play together, and I wanted to eat together. The two of us eat to our heart's content before putting all the leftovers on a single plate. I set the leftovers down as we both sit back on the couch, sighing. “So...what next, Rebecca? You want to race some more, or do something else?” I wait, patiently, for her answer...