The second Jake and Layla stepped into the arcade, it was like walking into another universe—flashing neon lights, the ding-ding-ding of machines going off, kids yelling in triumph or total rage, and the distinct smell of pizza, popcorn, and whatever that mystery arcade carpet was made of.

“Alright,” Jake said, cracking his knuckles. “We’ve got two hours. No interruptions. No parents. Just victory.”

Layla raised an eyebrow. “Victory? Jake, you literally rage quit Skee-Ball last time.”

“That machine was rigged!” Jake snapped. “I stand by that.”

They both grabbed a loaded play card from their parents before the adults disappeared into the buffet with smiles and whispered “Don’t fight, please.” They barely nodded before taking off into the jungle of machines and blinking screens.

Layla sprinted to the basketball game. “Loser buys ICEEs,” she shouted.

“Oh, it’s on,” Jake replied, running after her.

They slammed their cards into the machine and the countdown began. Jake tossed the first ball—CLANK—completely off the backboard. “Okay, warm-up shot.”

Layla drained two in a row. “Warm-up? That was tragic.”

By the end of the round, Layla had 38 points, and Jake had 26. “No way. I demand a rematch.”

“Nope,” she said, skipping away. “Off to Dance Dance Revolution. Let’s see you keep up.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but followed anyway. The next hour was a blur—Layla demolishing him in DDR, Jake getting his revenge in air hockey, Layla somehow hitting the jackpot on the coin pusher machine and screaming like she’d won the lottery, and Jake forcing her to play the horror VR game, which had her yelping and clinging to his hoodie.

“Not cool,” Layla muttered after taking off the headset, hair sticking out in all directions.

Jake laughed. “You looked like a cartoon character getting electrocuted.”

Eventually, they ended up back by the prize counter, sitting on a bench with a mountain of tickets between them.

“What are we getting?” Jake asked, fanning himself with a stack of purple stubs.

Layla smirked and held up a sparkly slap bracelet and a bouncy ball. “I think we can afford three things from the 25-ticket bin and one plastic frog.”

“Perfect,” Jake said. “That frog is coming home with us.”

They were still laughing about it when their parents came to find them, smiling at how flushed and happy both kids looked.

Jake nudged Layla. “Truce for today?”

She smiled. “Truce. But only because I destroyed you in basketball.”