I watched him with hooded eyes as he handed the man the money. He had to try and hit the moving target in the center, and then he would get the bear.
Sounds easy right?
No.
Midgame these targets went crazy, moving up and down and I bite the inside of my cheek watching as Samuel visibly got frustrated. He ran out of darts and the pubescent boy chuckled tauntingly at him.
"Sorry bud, maybe next time."
With his jaw clenched, Samuel reached into his pocket again and pulled out another dollar, slamming it onto the platform in front of us.
"Sam. . . It's okay; we can get on a ride instead?"
"Soon, just let me get this." He says, eyes barely glancing at me as he focuses.
He's still at first, and when he thinks it's the right moment, he throws the dart at the target. It merely grazes it a
