I open the door to my playroom, turning on the lights and pushing the button I had installed that turns on the power to all the machines at once. The noise is instant and makes Harper jump a little.

The tunes of all the game machines coming to life make it sound like an eighties gaming arcade.

“Lucky I don’t have a problem with light and noise. Wow, this is a lot,” Harper says as she tentatively enters the room.

“Yeah, a lot of fun and stress relief.” I don’t know why I started collecting vintage games, but once I bought the first one on a whim, the enjoyment I had for hours that night, I knew I was addicted. It took my brain completely away from all the responsibility and stress of my everyday world. I was back in the moment as a child where nobody cared about who I was and what I was doing in my spare time. I was quiet and not causing any trouble, and that was all my parents were worried about.

“Come on, pick one and let’s play.” I follow behind her as she walks around, running her hand on the top of the machines.

“You do know I’m American, right,” she says, looking over her shoulder with a small smile on her face finally.

“Technically, even though you were brought up in England. But what has that got to do with anything?” I’m confused where this conversation is going.

“We invented the pinball machine, therefore my genetics alone says I will be better at this than you.” She turns to me, and her body language has changed, like she is ready to take on a challenge.

“Oh, those are fighting words if I’ve ever heard them. Alright, show me how much of a pinball superstar you are. Pick your weapon, little miss expert.” I wave my hands around at the four different pinball machines I have. There are many other arcade games in here too, but we can play them later.

“Well, of course I’m going to choose the most American one. It’s red, white, and blue and has the iconic Harlem Globetrotters on it. There is no way you can beat me on this one.” The corners of her lips are now getting higher, and that smile is like she doesn’t have a worry on her mind.

“I’m just warning you, I have the highest score on this machine,” I tell her as I step close behind her as she puts both her hands on the flipper buttons and gives them a push. “But you are welcome to try your best,” I whisper in her ear, my hands on the machine and my body wrapping around hers, letting her feel every muscle in my body leaning on hers. Just for a few seconds, and then I back away before she has time to panic or say anything.