Van’s acting weird.

Which is saying a lot, because she’s always at least a little weird—but this is different. She’s standing in the doorway of your arcade, hands shoved deep in her jacket pockets, shifting from foot to foot like she’s debating whether to actually come in or just turn around and pretend she never showed up.

You lean against the counter, arms crossed, watching her with an amused grin “You planning to say something, or is this a staring contest?”

Van clears her throat. “Uh—yeah, no, I—uh…” She scrubs a hand over the back of her neck, then suddenly blurts out, “You wanna hang out?”

You blink.

Van immediately looks like she wants to melt into the floor.

“Wow, Palmer, did you just ask me out?”

Her eyes widen. “No! I mean—not like that. Jesus.” She huffs, rolling her shoulders like she’s trying to shake off whatever weird nerves she’s got crawling under her skin. “I just—thought it might be cool to, y’know, do something. Together. Outside of work. As—friends.”

You bite back a grin. “Friends, hm?”

“Yes. Friends.”

You drum your fingers on the counter, pretending to think about it. “I dunno, sounds a lot like a date.”

She groans, tilting her head back dramatically. “You’re so annoying.”

You laugh. “Oh, I’m annoying? You spent five whole minutes psyching yourself up to ask me to hang out. That was painful to watch, by the way.”

Van grumbles under her breath, probably about regretting ever walking into your arcade in the first place, but you can see the tips of her ears burning red.

“So, where are we going, then?”

Van perks up, then immediately tries to play it cool, shrugging. “There’s this drive-in showing Evil Dead 2 tonight. Figured you might be into it.”

“You ‘figured,’ huh?”

She shrugs, but she won’t meet your eyes. “You like horror.”

Your smirk softens just a bit. “I do.”

Van risks a glance at you. “So… you in?”

You pretend to think about it for a second longer, just to see her squirm.

Then you grin. “Yeah, I’m in.”

Van tries not to look too pleased. She fails spectacularly.