My Virtual Darcy 🏆 2021 Wattys Shortlister

11 - I'm Having a Ball

George Wickham's hand crept up my thigh under the table.

I choked on my apricot ice cream, splashing pale orange goo on the embroidered tablecloth. A violent cough shook my body as I swatted him away. I turned to the hostess to apologise.

"Aunt Philips, I am so sor--" But her chair was empty. My head snapped left and right. No guests.

Except for Sucky McSuckface and me.

"Bridge? What's happening?" My voice quavered to the point I did not recognize it.

"Damn. That one is a hottie." Wickham eyed me up and down, an appreciative smile on his face.

"What's wrong with you?"

He ignored my question and tugged at my gown. "C'mon, girl, relax and enjoy the ride..."

Enjoy the what? "Bridge, off."

Cold sweat ran down my spine when the dining room did not fade away. Was I stuck inside the game?

While I gaped at Wickham, stunned by the lack of response from the Bridge, he turned my seat towards him. His mouth hovered mine, asking for permission, but I squealed, recoiling from his predator smile. "Won't you grant me root access, sexy?"

Uh? Was that Regency kinky talk? "N-no."

Wickham's stare hardened, frustration replacing seductiveness. He grabbed my arm, his nails biting through my sleeve and into my skin. "Stop resisting, you idiot. Just say yes."

"I said no!"

A gentle shake of my shoulder tore me away from the nightmare.

The moonlight bathed my room, adding an eeriness to Amy's concerned expression. I rubbed my tense arm, still tingling from the iron grip that had scared me.

"Are you okay? Do you need a glass of water and a fluffy pillow?" She wiped the sweat from my forehead, her tender gesture chasing away the remnants of fear.

"No, I'm all right. I fell asleep while recalling my last game. Guess it bothered me more than I thought."

"Why? What happened? Scoot over."

I budged up towards the wall then pushed away the blanket, keeping only the sheet. Amy slid under it.

"I know that the Bridge is messing with my head in order to antagonise Darcy, but still..."

"Is this about your boobs again? Lee-Lee-Bee, your breasts are perfect." She narrowed her eyes at my goofy grin. "What?"

"You haven't called me Lee-Lee-Bee since primary school."

She shrugged. "I stopped because you were in junior high. Didn't wanna embarrass my big sister."

"Aww, but I loved that nickname. You gave it to me when you were a toddler. You were positively obsessed with bees at the time. Dad even made you a costume, with a black and yellow outfit, and antennas on a headband."

"Did he? I don't remember."

"You were so cute. You used to run to me with your arms up, stating that, 'The queen bee requested a good tickle on her stripes.'"

Out of the blue, my hands darted to Amy's green and white baseball top. Her mouth drew into an O shape, and quickly shut, as she stifled a snort.

"Stop, stop... You're gonna wake up Mom and Dad," she managed between two tickle assaults.

I held her wrists with a hand and attacked her again with the other, whispering, "I'm quiet. You're the one making noise."

"Please!"