"It was a really interesting experience," he replied, offering Richie a wink of his own.
"Did I miss anything good?" she asked.
'Where to start,' thought Peter, turning to Tank, unsure of exactly what he could say, knowing he couldn't mention everything that had happened with regard to Flash, but really not wanting to lie to Richie. He needn't have worried, Tank had it covered.
"Not really," replied Tank casually. "But the dragon we went to see did... ask after you."
Richie, normally cooler than a cucumber in a Siberian fridge, flinched just a little uncomfortably in her seat, as she thought about this.
"Any particular reason why?" she asked, not fooling either of her friends.
'Tank,' thought Peter, 'is having a field day tweaking Richie's scales about this. I know he doesn't approve of her seeing Tim, but he really shouldn't mess with her like this.'
"I think in the position he's in, he probably gets to hear just about everything that goes on... everywhere."
"Ahhhh," Richie whispered, thoughtfully. "Well, if there's a problem I'm sure he'll come straight to me and say, rather than pussyfoot around. It's always better that way don't you think... Tank?"
Now it was Tank's turn to feel more than a little uneasy, fully understanding Richie's dig at him. Before things could go any further, Peter stepped in to try and diffuse the situation.
"Guys, we're on our way to a laminium ball match. Let's forget everything else and just enjoy that shall we? I for one am really looking forward to it and have been for a few weeks now. So come on, enough with the petty squabbles... alright?"
Tank and Richie lowered their heads in shame at their childish behaviour. Standing up, Tank offered out one of his giant hands to Richie in a gesture of friendship. Richie stood up, but held her hands back. It looked as though she was steadfastly refusing to shake his hand, that is until she leapt up at him and gave him what could only be described as the biggest hug in the world. Peter smiled at his two best friends making up, relieved that everything was now alright between them. It was only then though, as he watched Richie enveloped in Tank's giant grasp, that he realised he was slightly... jealous. Not really understanding why, he thought about it for a couple of seconds. He'd had feelings for Richie forever, but knew on a practical level that nothing was ever going to happen between them as she was way out of his league, something he was first to admit, at least to himself anyway. Always having known it would take the most amazing dragon in the world to tame... no, that really wasn't the word he was looking for... to... capture Richie's heart. It would be no ordinary dragon, that much he knew for sure, and that's what made her dalliances with Tim all the more difficult to understand. Richie would be a catch, and a match for almost any living dragon, poor or powerful, but instead she chose to chase after the odd human or two. Unable to get his head around it all, just thinking about it made his brain hurt. With the momentarily bout of jealousy fading into the background quicker than an X Factor runner up, his thoughts turned to Janice. A shiver of excitement ran down his invisible tail. There was something about her that made him feel... special. Closing his eyes, he imagined being with her and all the things that came with it. Adoring the way she smelled, he remembered the electrifying touch of her hand on his when they had walked home from the cinema on their first date. Her infectious smile was just mesmerising, as were her gorgeous eyes that always seemed as though they were looking straight into his soul. Speaking of which, Tank and Richie seemed to be doing exactly that, eyeing Peter in a very strange and knowing way.
Coughing awkwardly, he smiled at his friends.
"So," he said, "what's the score going to be tonight then?"
"Well," said Richie thoughtfully, scratching her petite chin for effect. "The Buccaneers have been on a winning streak of late, and did win last week 4-0, hardly allowing the opposition a touch."
Remembering that he'd read about that match in the Daily Telepath, Peter nodded at Richie, finding it hard to believe that such a one sided game could happen in modern day laminium ball. Fifty or sixty years ago it would have been almost commonplace. But since then a huge shakeup had taken place, with things having changed here and across the world, on a monumental scale. There were four United Kingdom leagues, each comprising of thirteen teams. The bottom two at the end of the season were relegated whilst the top two were promoted, except obviously in the top tier, where there was no promotion, only an outright winner. Aside from the leagues, play offs across the world chose which teams made it into the Global Cup, the competition that the Warriors had almost won last year. With coaching, tactics and facilities constantly improving across the globe, the dragons' favourite sport had changed almost beyond recognition in only half a century or so. What were once very one-sided matches now normally turned out to be too close to call. Of course there were still exceptional teams. Each top tier around the globe normally had two or three, but apart from that, in standard and ability the teams all seemed to be very evenly matched, so much so that even the supposedly elite teams went without winning a match for three or four games in a row. Bucking the trend apparent in nearly all the leagues, the Buccaneers had hammered home their victory against a very well drilled and tactically sound Purbeck Peninsula Pirates side. Not only had it been big news in the Daily Telepath, but it chorused out across all the telepathic papers. Today, weeks later, the story still rumbled on with rumours abounding that the very experienced coach of the Pirates side was going to be sacked, something that hadn't ever happened in the history of the team. It was all quite shocking but made good reading.
"So you think the Buccaneers will win?" Peter asked Richie.
"That's not quite what I said. In theory they should win, just purely on form and their league position," she replied.
Tank opened his mouth to pipe up, but before he could get a word out, Richie held up the index finger of her right hand to stop him.
"However, I don't believe they've come up against any team as devious as the Warriors in the league yet, and that could well be their undoing. Silverbonce always has a couple of tricks up his scales and after the double goal with the ball splitting tactic last year, every single team in the league is always gonna believe that something like that is possible from the Warriors."
Tank nodded his agreement.
"When she's right, she's right," he said in Peter's direction.
"The only thing that worries me at the moment is our lack of goal scoring threat. Defensively we're fine, but going on the offensive we just don't seem to be cutting the mustard, so to speak," announced Peter.
His two friends nodded their agreement as the monorail pulled into St Austell station.
"Our stop, I do believe," declared Tank
"Ours and everybody else's by the look of things," replied Peter, as everyone in the carriage stood up to depart.
Filing off the monorail and out onto the platform, the friends followed the LED signs that signalled the way to the arena. As the throng of dragons moved along the lava lined walkway, vendors pulling small carts battled against the tide, trying hard to sell their wares. All the usual things were on display: hats, scarves, flags, banners, and exploding mantras with the name of the team or individual player. It was all there. Richie stopped, keen to look at the merchandise. Tank and Peter were about to continue on but thought better of it. With the crowd so thick, they would probably lose Richie altogether and in an arena this size the match could well have finished before they found her again, despite them having adjacent seats.
Leaning across the dragon in front of her, Richie started rifling through the exploding mantra section of the vendor's cart. Tank and Peter stood off to one side, trying hard not to disrupt the steady, one way flow of dragon spectators. Before too long, Richie, clearly delighted with her purchase, zipped in and out of the other dragons and joined her friends. Tank and Peter tried to get a look at what she'd bought, but she was having none of it, telling them both to mind their own business and that they'd find out at the appropriate time. Both friends acknowledged Richie's madness with a familiar look at each other, something they'd used more times than they cared to remember.