"Wanna play?"
"What's the point, you never win."
"I beat you once."
"That time I had Mono doesn't count."
"C'mon, what's the harm?" he said as he laced his hands behind his head. "Its only one game."
"Its still amazing to me that after all these years, you still can't beat me at Monopoly."
"Well, I have taken the years to develop other talents." Bree took a moment to steal another glance at her best friend.
Wearing his favorite Guns 'N Roses tshirt and ripped jeans, this was the most relaxed and unguarded she'd seen him in awhile. With his head tilited toward the ceiling, she took a moment to study his profile. Conrad possessed a rugged look most men strived for, and Bree had no doubt he would only look better with age. The strong line of his jaw and prominent ridge of his nose guaranteed he was a hit with all the girls at school. His dark brown eyes always flickered with a hint of mischief, and they never offered a promise they couldn't keep.
Bree's eyes trailed down the side of Finn's neck where her gaze landed on a tiny scar, she'd nearly forgotten about it. Usually Finn's hair was too long to see it, but with his buzz cut, she could make out the jagged scar clearly through his blond hair.
Finn shifted, dragging Bree back from memory lane. "Yea, well, I've heard about your talents," she said tossing her hair over her shoulder. She didn't want to tell him exactly how much she heard, but she'd heard enough.
"I hear I'm actually quite good. Well," he added with a shrug. "At least that's what's written on the bathroom stalls in the girls room, anyway."
"Hubris is bad for your complexion." She said as she stood and walked toward his closet to get the Monopoly board. It was in the same place it'd always been. "Since when do you take trips into the ladies room?" she asked tossing a look over her shoulder.
She watched as his smile widened, and he unconsciously puffed out his chest. "Sometimes my talents lead me to the woman's bathroom. Sometimes the backseat of my car, sometimes their mommy and daddy's bed. I'm not picky; I go where the work is. Its part of the job description," he said as he shrugged his shoulders.
Of course it was, he was every bit the walking epitome of the American boy next door; high school senior, quarterback of the football team, tall and lean. He was the boy all the girls wanted to go to prom with, the boy girls routinely threw themselves at in the hall. Girls at Jefferson High never failed to mention when their parents were going out of town. When she thought about, it was actually quite funny.
They'd been friends seemingly forever, but didn't exactly run in the same circles.
She was too sure of herself for most boys, and too reserved for the girls. Bree didn't see the point in being like the other girls in her grade and throwing herself at a guy she liked. Instead she'd befriend them. Of course, this always lead to her being the best friend and never the girlfriend, but at this point, she understood her role in the universe. Case in point, her current situation.
"You are so disgusting." As if it were possible, his smile got even wider. She couldn't tell him what she was really thinking.
"You're just jealous," he said as he slid down onto the floor across from where she opened the Monopoly board.
She scoffed, and it sounded pretty convincing. "Jealous? Of what? Your tiny pecker and bad breath? I don't think so, love." She only called him love when she was telling him something she didn't mean.
"Tisk, tisk, you've seen my pecker before," he said as he raised his eyebrows at her, "and its nothing to sneeze at." The thought of the time she caught him changing out of his bathing suit brought heat to her face, and she hoped he didn't see it.
"If you were three feet tall, you'd be perfectly proportional."
She giggled loudly as he pulled a pillow off his bed and hurled it at her face. "Don't make me tickle you."
"No, okay, seriously. Don't do it." She watched as he wiggled his fingers at her, making her squirm. "I promise, I promise," she said between giggles.
"You promise what?"
"That I won't tell anyone about your impossibly small pecker!" she shouted as she tried to scramble backwards to get away from his approaching form.
"That's it, I'm gonna tickle you till you piss yourself." He launched himself over the game board, scrambling on all fours to try and get to her. He grunted as the little silver terrier piece implanted itself in his knee.
She backed up quickly trying to move her legs out of his reach. She was nearly around the other side of his bed when he latched onto her ankle. Before he even started his assault, she was laughing.
"No, no, please, I didn't mean it," she gasped out between fits of laughter.
"You're only apologizing because I caught you," he said as he sat on her shins and started to tickle right above her kneecaps. He didn't understand it, but she was irrationally ticklish above her knees.
"Nooo!" she shouted as she tried to buck him off her, but she couldn't. He was planted firmly on her legs, and she couldn't move him. She tried swatting at him with her hands, but he was too fast for her. "Stop. I can't breathe. Please!" she managed to get out.
He slid up her legs and sat on her thighs. "What do you say?" he said in his singsong triumphant voice.
"You're an ass?" she asked with a wicked smile. He pinched her sides and she yelped. "Fine," she said with a huff. "Conrad G. Finn, you are master of all. Except Monopoly," she added under her breath. He pinched her again, and she squealed.
"You're not finished," he said with a grin.
She rolled her eyes before continuing. "You are smarter, faster, and better looking than me, although I think you look like a toad." His fingers hovered above her threatening another attack, and she rushed on. "You win."
"Good," he said with a nod of his head. "You may always win at Monopoly, but I always win a tickle match."
"That's because you cheat."
