Chapter Text
You’d always been fantastic at ring tosses. You had naturally good hand-eye coordination, most likely thanks to the four years of baseball you played in your youth, and ring toss games were basically just cornhole but worse- which was, coincidentally, another game you were a master of. Never had there been a ring toss game you couldn’t beat on the first try, and the pile of cheap county fair prizes in your closet was proof of your ability. Your concentration was unbreakable; your track record, unbeatable. You weren’t good at most things, but ring tosses? You had mastered the art of them, and you were confident there wasn’t much that could possibly throw off your groove.
You weren’t expecting a cute girl, though.
She was new. She was definitely new. She had to be- you would’ve seen her before. It’s not like you were at Beach City Funland enough to have memorized its employees and carnival barkers, but you knew that if you’d seen her before, you would have remembered her. She wasn’t someone your eyes could’ve simply swept over while surveying the brightly colored tents and shiny metal rollercoaster frames. She was pink. Not just her hair, but all of her, her skin, her eyes. She wore the classic Funland uniform, but it looked like she’d put it on overtop her other clothes, which were jester-esc and, big surprise, also pink.
Humans, normally, did not come in pink, so she had to be one of the Gems. You’d heard of the Gems, of course- one couldn’t live in Beach City without doing so, even if one neglected leaving one’s apartment and conversing with the locals as much as you did- and you’d even seen them working jobs around the city. You knew through word of mouth that there had been only three for a while, living in a gigantic temple next to the ocean with their- son? Nephew? You weren’t sure, but they had to be family of some kind, based on the way they all acted around each other. You’d met the kid before, when you were getting breakfast at the Big Donut one early summer morning. You were certain you’d never forget his name: Steven Universe. It was one of the coolest names you’d ever heard. He was a pretty nice guy, too. Seemed mature for his age. You’d been hoping to see him again, but hadn’t run into him since.
There seemed to have been an accumulation of gems in the area recently. You’d only first moved to the city that past summer, but even in that short amount of time you’d noticed more and more of them appearing. Of course there were the three from the temple by the seaside who’d been in Beach City for decades (at least, you assumed it was decades. You weren’t entirely sure how gem aging worked), but you’d gleaned from overhearing some of your neighbors’ conversations that over the past few years the community had apparently grown exponentially. It was incredible, honestly. The “mini-Homeworld” as they called it, with its swirling architecture that invoked images of galaxies far, far away, was beautiful. You’d stopped by multiple times to sketch some of the buildings, and to people-watch.
Gem-watch?
Just watch.
You did a lot of that. You felt a little creepy, but really you were just more comfortable sitting on the sidelines, listening to the indistinguishable babble of everyday chatter and observing others going about their daily lives. That’s just where you felt more at home.
So the girl was a gem, a pink gem, and she was also adorable.
Her eyes were huge and doe-like, and her irises appeared to be rings of different shades of pink (of course), with flecks of yellow interspersed within the hues. Her face was heart-shaped, but soft-looking; her expressions squashed and stretched her cheeks in a cartoonish fashion. Her hands were small and slender, covered constantly by Looney Toon-esc gloves, and her hair was messy and bounced adorably in high twin pigtails. She appeared to be largely introverted on the outside. You’d seen her light up when talking to certain people, but it was a rare sight. She wasn’t unfriendly, but she seemed… Uncomfortable, maybe, with social interaction. You understood that- shit , did you understand that- but still you wondered why, then, of all the job offers in the city she could’ve taken, she decided to work at an amusement park, one of the most socially-charged environments ever. You knew you could never work at Funland. As enjoyable as the park was, it exhausted you to be there for more than two hours.
But regardless, here you were, in line at the Funland ticket booth, for the fourth time this week, because the new pink gem working said booth was adorable.
Like most ticket transactions, minimal speaking was required. You mumbled out your request for one single-day pass, handed over the three dollar fee, and then waited for Cute Pink Gem Girl to hold up her end of the exchange. She hadn’t said much, but after you gave her the money and she’d finished putting it in the register, she looked up, fully seeing you for the first time, and something in her eyes clicked.
“Oh, yer back today too.”
You jolted. Holy shit, she actually remembered you? You hadn’t anticipated that. You knew you’d been going to Funland consistently for multiple days now, but like an absolute dumbass, it hadn’t registered that she probably had enough object permanence to realize that you were the same person who had been buying a one-day ticket to the theme park almost every day for the past week. You scrambled to reply, your insides a messy mixture of flustered joy that she remembered you, and utter mortification that she remembered you.
“Uh- aha, yeah!” Your voice was more high pitched than usual. “Yeah, I am. Um. Nice to see you again?”
Oh, God, why did I say that like it was a question? You mentally kicked yourself in the shins. The pink gem blinked at you and smiled a little awkwardly.
“Er- yea, you too? Here’s yer ticket. Enjoy the park.”
“Thanks! I will. Uh, again.”
She laughed a bit and you immediately ceased kicking yourself to mentally drop to your knees in holy reverence. Holy shit, you made her laugh. You were going to remember this day for the rest of your life. As she handed you the small slip of paper, the tips of your fingers brushed the fabric of her gloves, and something in the pit of your stomach shivered.
And then you took your ticket and left the line.
Spinel. That was her name. And that was the longest conversation you’d ever held with her.
Does she have a Brooklyn accent? You replayed the dozen or so words she’d spoken to you in your head as you walked vaguely in the direction of the Tilt-a-Whirl. Holy shit, I think she does. At least a slight one. That’s… Oh boy.
After buying a few hot dogs from a nearby stand, you stood off to the side (to avoid being trampled by the other park attendees) and munched on your snack while surveying your entertainment options. At this point you’d ridden Hyper Space six times, been on the Teacups five times, and gotten lost twice in the House of Mirrors, so that particular day you thought you’d branch out a bit and try some rides you’d never been on before. Despite loving thrill rides, you’d never ridden Funland’s titular coaster, the Thunder Bird, and a few people in your apartment building had said that you couldn’t experience Funland fully without going on it at least once. So, after finishing the last bite of your ‘dog, you made up your mind to give it a spin.
Heh. A “spin”. You decided to give it a “spin”.
……………... Like Spinel-
You gave yourself a pinch through the fabric of your t-shirt. Stop it. Stop being gay for like, two seconds. Just ride the dumb roller coaster and don’t think about Cute Pink Gem Girl.
You rode the coaster. You thought a lot about Cute Pink Gem Girl.
It was a fun ride. You liked the loop-de-loops, and the drop at the start, but after you’d gotten back to the main area of the park you realized you probably should have waited until the two hot dogs you’d eaten had settled more in your stomach before going on a roller coaster. Wincing at the nausea and cursing your past self for never seeming to think about consequences, you decided that maybe you should refrain from riding anything else until your insides calmed down, or at least until the risk of vomiting had been eliminated. More rides would probably just make your stomach ache worse, you’d already been to the House of Mirrors, and consuming more hot dogs was the least appetizing idea in the world at that moment, so the only thing that was left for you to do was carnival games. Which meant, of course, that you needed to find the ring toss.
You’d assumed that finding the ring toss would be a relatively easy task. You were in an amusement park ; ring tosses were par for the course, and you knew Funland had one- you’d seen it advertised on the map they were offering at the customer service tent. You knew it was here.
…… Somewhere.
Funland wasn’t very big- people called it an “amusement park”, but it was more like a glorified carnival- and its layout was pretty simplistic. The rides were spread out evenly and the games, food stands, and ticket booths were scattered in between, primarily towards the front. It was straight-forward and strategically aimed towards making you want to spend more money on additional services instead of only going on the rides, and you would have been miffed about that, but everything there was pretty harmlessly priced and the hot dogs were good, even if they made you feel sick a few times. However it appeared that whomever had designed Beach City Funland hadn’t been a fan of ring tosses, and thus had hidden the stand away somewhere, because for the life of you, you couldn’t find the damn thing. You trekked from the Thunder Bird all the way back to the entrance, realized your desired game wasn’t there, and doubled back to the Tilt-a-Whirl, side-stepping a jovial carnival barker (who was attempting to get you back into the House of Mirrors) as you did. From the Tilt-a-Whirl you walked to the food stands, weaved in between the wafting scent of hot dogs (your stomach had settled down at this point, but still. No thanks) and caramel popcorn and finally ended up at the very back of the park, a few meters away from the twinkling Ferris Wheel. The sky behind you was darkening slowly, the sun beginning to bleed into the clouds as it set. It was getting late. You couldn’t find the ring toss booth.
“Where is that stupid thing? How hard could it possibly be to find a ring toss at a carnival?” you muttered, scuffing the tip of your sneaker dejectedly into the dirt. “Am I just blind? Or do I need to like, get a better view? Maybe I should get on the Ferris Wheel... No, that’s dumb. Fuck, I should’ve taken that map from the customer service booth. Ugh. Maybe…” Your heart sank. “Maybe I should just go home.”
If you went home then, though, that would mean that you bought another ticket to this dumb park and would leave with minimal interaction with Cute Pink Gem Girl, zero cheap carnival prizes, and without reaffirming your position of ring toss master. Which would suck. You sighed, feeling extremely put-out. You’d really been hoping to end this day on a high note. Your eyes swept across the park stretched before you, gliding almost unseeingly over the people standing in line at the Ferris Wheel, the wayward streamers and churro wrappers littering the ground, the streetlights warmly illuminating the faces of your fellow carnival-goers, the brightly colored sign of the ring toss booth…
You stopped.
“Oh, what the fuck. Really?”
And there it was.
You did a tiny excited shimmy where you stood. There it was! Finally! Perhaps this day could be saved after all. Forget awkward conversations, forget gay panic, forget hot dog nausea and all the associated side effects- you’d finally found that stupid, stupid, stupidly wonderful ring toss booth, and you were going to go win yourself a cheap toy you didn’t need, assert your dominance, and then go the fuck home. Your confidence reaffirmed, you approached (well, more like skipped over to) your much-beloved haven, greeting the person running the booth with a bright smile.
“Hello! How much?”
“Two bucks,” said the person, with a slight Brooklyn accent, turning around to reveal two messy magenta pigtails, cartoonishly rosy cheeks, and doe-like pink eyes that grew wide in recognition when your gazes met.
Holy fuck.
“Hey- it’s you again!” said the Cute Pink Gem Girl, Spinel.
“It’s me again,” you replied, weakly. Your bright smile wobbled with nerves at the grin she gave you. She’s so cute. Have I ever seen her smile like this? Fuck, stop, stop staring. Be natural! Act natural! “Aha- uh, two bucks, you said?”
Spinel nodded. Her pigtails bounced adorably. You dug into your wallet for the money and shakily handed it to her, hoping to God she didn’t notice your fingers were trembling. As she reached over to grab you your rings, you fumbled for another topic of conversation. “I, uh, I thought you were working at the ticket stand.”
“Oh, yea, I was, but then Mister Smiley told me he wanted me to try manning one of the game booths- said it’d give me “experience”, or somethin’- so here I am.” She placed the three rings- each a bright dandelion yellow- on the counter before standing back to give you a clear shot. “I don’ really mind, though. It’s fun. I’m more of a games gal, anyhow. You can go ahead whenever yer ready.”
“Huh?” You blinked. She waved a thumb at the brightly colored cones behind her. “Oh! Oh, oh, yeah.” You laughed, a little awkwardly, picking up the rings she’d set down for you and readying yourself to toss the first one, aiming somewhere in the middle of the rows of brightly colored plastic. “Do I get, like, three chances?”
“Mm-hm. And if ya hit one but still have rings left, you can try again for a bigger prize.”
“Okay, cool.”
The conversation had sufficiently dwindled, and now, you were getting nervous. You were the master of ring tosses, yes, but you were absolutely not the master of looking cool in front of insanely cute pink gem girls, and Spinel’s presence was making it extremely difficult to concentrate. You could see her out of the corner of your eye, watching you with what appeared to be gentle interest, and your stomach was curling into knots because of it.
Fuck. If I miss, I’m actually going to die. I’m just going to drop dead. I’m just going to actually fucking perish if I miss.
You tossed the ring, and just as you felt it leaving your fingertips, Spinel spoke up.
“So, ya come here often?”
You missed.
Your eyes snapped up to hers, and the look on your face must’ve been perceived as less than desirable, because her cheeks flushed rosy and she looked away. “Uh- sorry, that was a weird way to word that. I, I was tryna… um.” Spinel appeared to regret every new word she said more intensely than the last. “Uh. I mean. Do you, like, live close by or somethin’?”
“Oh! No, no, you’re- you’re fine, um-” Shit, she’s really, really cute when she blushes. Your horrible first toss went pretty much entirely forgotten. “I do, actually! My apartment is like, five minutes away by bike, so I come here a lot. Just ‘cause I’m so close, and ‘cause I love amusement parks.”
And to see you, but you don’t need to know that, you thought to yourself, reaching down to pick up the next ring.
“What?” Spinel’s voice was light with feigned innocence and her smile was warm and cheeky. Her awkwardness over her previous comment had seemingly melted away. “Ya love amusement parks? I never woulda guessed!”
Surprised by her unexpected quip, you laughed, loud and bright in the quiet of the late afternoon. You shifted your weight in anticipation of throwing the second ring. “Hold on, wait, you’re funny? Why didn’t you tell me you were funny?”
Spinel tugged a bit at the hem of her uniform. Her warm, cheeky smile turned slightly sheepish. “I mean, this is the first time we’ve.. actually talked, so.. ya know.”
“O-Oh. Right. Haha...” Nice going, doofus. You fucked it up. You gave yourself another mental kick in the shins. The conversation had been progressing so wonderfully, too. Quick, how do I fix this? Ask her how she dyes her hair..? No, shit, she’s a gem. It’s natural. Well, as natural as hair can be on a non-organic being. Should I ask her how she started working here? I have been wondering about that. There aren’t any other gems that work here, at least that I know of. I wonder if somebody helped her get the job.
Before you could open your mouth to ask, though, Spinel spoke first.
“What’s yer name, by the way?”
Caught off guard, you straightened up from your ring-tossing stance and met her eyes. “My name? Oh!” Oh my god, I’m an idiot. I never introduced myself. Duh. “Right, I never told you. Aha! Whoops. Um, I’m (Y/N).”
“(Y/N).” She echoed it softly, as though trying it out on her tongue. You felt your face grow warm at her gentle, almost reverent tone. She blinked, in the way that one did when one was coming out of deep thought, and then looked straight at you, smiling crookedly and sticking out her hand. “The name’s Spinel. Nice to finally meet ya, (Y/N).”
“Same to you, Spinel,” you replied, feeling completely in love and knowing that you would never forget this day for the rest of your life. Her hand was delicate and warm and the second skin-to-glove contact was made, butterflies exploded in your stomach, swarmed through your ribcage, fluttered up your spine and came to a quivering rest at the top of your head. She gave your hand a firm shake, the motion of it making her thin arm wobble cartoonishly. Her crooked grin looked like the moon and you felt your soul melt inside your chest.
“..... Ya gonna throw that ring?”
“Huh?” Your eyes jumped down to the ring you were still clutching. Your cheeks, which were already extremely pink, grew hotter still, and you immediately dropped Spinel’s hand, laughing nervously. “Oh! Shit, right. Let me just-”
You regained your ring-tossing stance, but as you turned away you caught Spinel’s face suddenly dropping. Not enough to really be noticeable, but her smile wavered just slightly the moment you let go of her hand, as if she missed the contact of your palm against her own. Now, you weren’t about to overanalyze that…
Oh, who were you kidding, you absolutely were, because what?
What?
As you geared up to make your second shot, the cogs in your brain turned wildly.
The fuck? The fuck?? What? Why! What?! What does that mean?
You steadied yourself, narrowing your eyes a bit to lock onto where you were aiming, and pulled your arm back.
Why did her face drop like that? It really looked like she frowned when I pulled away… Did she... did she want…
Twisting your wrist, you snapped your arm forward and released the ring.
Did she want to keep holding my hand?
“Woah! Ya hit the middle row!” Spinel’s eyes widened and she pointed excitedly at the ring, which had landed perfectly in the very center of the rows of cones, spinning around said cone once before finally coming to a gentle stop. You blinked in surprise before an elated smile spread over your face.
“Holy shit! Holy fucking shit!” You whooped and clapped your hands in excitement. “I did it!”
“Ya did it!” Spinel agreed gleefully, clapping alongside you. She reached over and grabbed the cone, turning it upside down to check its underside. Her eyes squinted charmingly as she scanned the number scribbled there. “30….. 3? 33!”
“33! Awesome! What does 33 mean?”
“It means ya get a prize!”
You could feel your grin turn goofy at her enthusiasm. “A prize?”
“Yea!” She gestured to a line of small plastic figurines hanging next to a row of multicolored cowboy hats. “Anythin’ from here to.. Here, I think,” she said, pointing to an absolutely hideous leopard print cowboy hat that your soul immediately decided you needed to own. “Take yer pick, pal.”
‘Pal’ was not a romantic nickname, but fuck if your heart didn’t skip eighteen beats and stutter in your chest at Spinel calling you that. You surveyed your options thoughtfully and clicked your tongue in contemplation, pretending as if you hadn’t already claimed that horrifically ugly cowboy hat as your one true love. You didn’t want to seem too eager.
Too eager about my prize, you clarified in your head. Not too eager about anything else.
You were a natural at ring tosses, but you’d never been too good at lying to yourself.
“Anything from there to there?” you repeated, pointing from the row of figurines Spinel had first indicated to your aforementioned cowboy-hat-Romeo.
“Anythin’ from there to there. Or…” She wiggled her brow at you goofily and you bit back a giggle. “Ya could toss again, if ya wanna shot at a different prize. Personally, I’m partial to those lil’ guys.” She pointed above her head to the topmost row, where a line of velveteen alien plushies in a rainbow of colors hung, with wide black eyes and adorably tiny mouths curved into warm smiles, swaying gently in the early evening breeze.
“You’ll need to score real well though if ya want one of ‘em- they’re a hot item. Been tryna get Smiley to give me one since I work here an’ all, but the man won’t budge. Eh, what can ya do?” She shrugged before turning herself back towards you, eyes twinkling, and flashing you a smile. “So? What’ll it be, (Y/N)?”
You looked at the hideous leopard print cowboy hat, then at the row of soft alien plushies, then back down at Spinel. She was still grinning that soul-meltingly crooked grin, and she seemed so much more at ease now. There was a warmth in her eyes that you’d never seen before. She leaned against the game booth, slumping slightly, relaxed and gentle and open. Her face was illuminated by the lowly lit park surrounding you, by the colorful fairy lights strung up around the ring toss booth, by the soft glow of the gently setting sun as it faded into the horizon and tinged the world around it with a peach-scented, cotton candy-tinted hue, and by just how much you were crazy into this Cute Pink Gem Girl, Spinel. You really, really liked her. You really didn’t want this conversation to be the closest you ever came to her.
You looked up at the alien plushies one more time, and thought to yourself,
Well….. Here goes nothing.
“I think I want to try again, actually.”
“Oh?” Spinel’s seemingly non-existent eyebrows raised in interest at your response. “Oh, sure! Ya got one more ring, so.. Yea, go ahead. Give ‘er another go.”
You turned back towards the cones, picking up the final ring and fiddling nervously with it. Your heart was hammering. “Which, um, which ones do I need to hit to win one of those alien guys, again?”
“Ehh… somewhere between... 40 an’ 50. Ya were already pretty close with yer score o’ 33.”
Great, you thought, already starting to sweat. Here’s hoping I can do that again, but better.
You really were naturally great at ring tosses, and you had been since you were a kid. Today just… had not been a perfect reflection of your talents. It wasn’t your fault, you were taken off guard, blindsided. You couldn’t have expected hot dog nausea or cute pink gem girls named Spinel. You weren’t emotionally prepared for that. You weren’t emotionally prepared for her . But fuck, dude. You wanted to see if maybe she hadn’t been emotionally prepared for you, either. It was more than just wanting to leave an impression on her. You wanted to make sure she didn’t have to remember you, because the two of you were going to see each other again.
“Alrighty, then.” Spinel shifted backwards, slouching against one of the booth poles and meeting your gaze through her eyelashes. There was something in her voice that wasn’t there a moment ago. It reminded you of the way she’d murmured your name when you’d first introduced yourself, but there was an edge to it you hadn’t heard before. Her words were melty and smooth; they twisted themselves into your stomach and got tangled in your intestines, filling your abdomen with a squirming sort of warmth that made you want to bolt. Her smile turned into something that sent heat rushing to your face.
“Impress me, (Y/N),” she said.
“Holy shit,” you said.
Spinel cocked her head to the side. “Wha’ was that?”
“Uh-” Oh god, I said that out loud. “Nothing. Nothing! I’m gonna-” Jesus fuck. Focus! Focus on the task at hand! “I’m gonna throw the ring now.”
“Go ahead, pal. The floor’s all yours.”
There was amusement in her voice. Is she..… enjoying this...? Oh my god. Oh my god.
You bit your tongue to avoid letting out any other involuntary expletives and focused your attention back on the cones. It was one thing when you were just being watched by your target of affection- that was nerve-wracking, sure, but now.. Now it wasn’t just your dignity on the line. You really wanted to win one of those alien plushies. You really wanted to win one of those alien plushies. You really wanted to see Spinel again. You took a small, soft breath and readied yourself, praying to whatever god, goddess, or genderless deity that ruled over the art of the ring toss to steady your stance, guide your hand, and help your knees not buckle under the weight of your gay panic.
And then you tossed the ring, and when Spinel walked over to check the bottom of the cone it landed on, literally nothing else in the world mattered except for the erratic beat of your heart, and the ring toss booth, and her.
“Well, would ya look at that.”
“W-What?” You didn’t think you’d ever been so anxious before in your entire life. Your guts had twisted in on themselves; your hands had started shaking ages ago and still hadn’t stopped. It felt like you were having a panic attack in slow motion.
Spinel looked up at you and you swore your heartbeat stopped. Her smile was sunshine incarnate as she said,
“42.”
The number bounced in midair, as if caught in an evening breeze. You watched it dance around your head for half a moment before a laugh, tingly and internal, bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and forced its way out of your mouth. The laugh was half relieved and half deranged and uncomfortably loud in the quiet of the late afternoon, but fuck, you didn’t care. 42. 42.
You were never going to forget this moment.
“So….” Spinel was grinning at you. You never wanted her to stop grinning at you. “What color?”
“Pink,” you answered immediately. You didn’t even have to think about it. If your voice right now was a hue, it’d be the brightest, warmest yellow ever conceived.
She grinned even wider, turned with a flourish and reached up, her arm stretching unnaturally long, delicately pulling one of the pink alien plushies from its place strung up next to its siblings.
“Swell choice,” she said, holding it out for you to take. Her eyes were sparkling, her voice was sparkling, the air around her was sparkling. You felt like you should be shielding your eyes. You took the plushie.
And then there was a pause.
Spinel swallowed. She looked like she wasn’t looking forward to what was going to happen now that she’d given you your prize.
“Well…” Her voice wasn’t sparkling as much anymore. She shifted where she stood, a hand sneaking up seemingly subconsciously to pull at her oversized uniform. “Um. It’s pretty late. I’m sure ya’ve got.… stuff t’ do. Um..”
“Spinel.”
The hand that was pulling awkwardly at the hem of her shirt twitched in surprise. She blinked at you. “Er- yea, pal?”
You squeezed the pink alien plushie to your chest as if the action of it would help muffle the sound of your frantic, flustered heartbeat, taking in a breath that rattled and shook inside your ribcage. “Do you….. do you have a pen?”
She blinked at you again. “Uh. Sure? I think? Lemme- uh-”
Spinel reached underneath the counter and rummaged around for a bit before withdrawing her gloved hand, now clutching a blue ballpoint pen that she held out to you expectantly. You took it from her and felt your stomach shudder at the close proximity of your hands. With trembling fingers, you searched for the plushie’s tag and, once found, pressed it flat against the counter of the booth before scribbling your phone number down onto the polyester. Looking back up, you met Spinel’s gaze. It was full of an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint.
“Here,” you said. You held out the pink alien plushie.
Spinel’s eyes, still full of that unnamed feeling, widened, and she shook her head quickly. “Woah- wait a sec, pal, you won that fair n’ square! I can’t just- I can’t take it.”
“You can if it’s a gift.” Your hand shook slightly but stayed stubbornly outstretched. “I won it for you.”
“You- huh?”
You leaned forward, placing your free hand on the booth counter and looking Spinel directly in the eyes. Your face felt as if it were aflame but you didn’t look away.
“I won it for you ,” you said again.
Spinel went quiet. She looked back at you, not really responding at all to what you’d said, and for a terrifying moment you thought you’d misread the atmosphere and had made the worst gay mistake of your life- but then that same adorable rosy blush began to creep ever so gradually up her neck and back into her cheeks. Slowly, she reached out and gently took the plushie from your fingertips, as though scared any sudden movement would frighten you away. She opened her mouth to say something, but your nervousness spoke before she could.
“You should check the tag. Um. Because it- there’s something on there, for you. That’s- that’s what I was, um, writing. That’s why I needed the, uh.. The pen.”
Spinel turned the plush around in her hands, raising it up closer to her face to better decipher the chicken scratch you’d left on the tag. Her eyes traced over the numbers you’d written, seemingly scanning it multiple times before finally growing large with realization. The soft blush on her cheeks quickly changed hues; from a dusty rose pink to a deep magenta.
“This is- that’s yer phone number.”
The emotion in her voice wasn’t negative, exactly, but it wavered in a way that sent your anxiety into overdrive. You quickly took your hands off the counter and stepped back slightly, effectively removing yourself from Spinel’s personal bubble.
“Uh- yeah! Yeah, it is, um- I, uh, I really like- I mean I think you’re really, like, cool? I think you’re really cool and I- I wanna keep in touch. And um, see you again. If you’re- only if you’re, you know, okay with that.”
Spinel was quiet again, but only for a single moment before her gaze quickly jumped up from staring at your phone number scrawled hastily onto the plush’s tag to looking you square in the face. She was smiling a smile you hadn’t seen on her before. It was small, wobbly. It looked shy.
“Yea. Shucks, um... Yea,” said the Cute Pink Gem Girl, Spinel, holding the small alien plushie you’d won her in flustered, shaking hands. “I’m okay with that.”
You walked back to the park entrance in a daze. The sun was fully obscured by the horizon, replaced by the slowly rising moon, and Funland was almost entirely empty at this point. The majority of the rides were shut down for the night and the twinkly fairy lights that decorated the stalls and booths had been turned off, leaving only the streetlights that lined the main walkway to illuminate the quickly darkening park. It was Wonderland-esc. It matched how you felt perfectly. In your mind, you replayed Spinel’s parting words to you over, and over, and over, as if they were your new favorite song.
“See ya around, (Y/N).” She gave you a warm smile and a wink that sent your heart rocketing up into space. She was still holding the pink alien plushie. “And come back soon, y’hear?”
You were in such a daze, in fact, that you didn’t realize until you were halfway across the parking lot, mere feet from where you’d left your bicycle, that you were still clutching the blue ballpoint pen Spinel had lent you. But that didn’t really matter.
That just meant you had an excuse to come back again tomorrow.