As we know, Rock, Paper, Scissors has been played ever since the cavemen invented it during "The Stone Age." Of course, the only way they knew how to play back then was to use real rocks for the Rock part, and each other’s heads for the Paper and Scissors parts. A remnant of that violent origin remains, as I learned hundreds of years later when I played The Ellis Variant in 1991.

That particular summer, I played a ton of Sega Master System games. My favorite one was called “Alex Kidd in Miracle World,” and honestly, it kind of seemed like one. The game is a colorful quest to acquire some tasty rice balls and make friends with a cool princess. Just another Sunday afternoon for me, no big deal. It quickly became a hyper focus, and I either played or talked about it endlessly. My buddies came to hate Miracle World in short order, and "Fuck Alex Kidd" was said, shouted, or screamed in my direction almost daily. Or at least, on the days I saw any of my friends. Mom and Dad just kind of sighed.

The cool thing about the game to me was when you arrived at a level boss, they'd say something like “Hello, I’m Scissor Head, let’s play,” then he’d dance at you briefly before choosing what hand sign to use against yours. You showed them both at the same time, and if you picked the stronger sign, you won. Win two out of three, and the boss disappeared in a friendly cloud of smoke. No fighting or hurt feelings at all. "The perfect encounter."

What really separated Alex Kidd from Mario or Megaman was the option to buy this sick ass motorcycle at the shop on stage 2. I always lost it instantly because it vaporized the second you brushed against a block or enemy, but I was always excited for it anyway. Outside of those serene boss encounters, the rest of the game was hard as hell. I didn’t care.

Let me ride, mama. God, just let me ride.

One day in early September of 1991, my buddy Ellis and I were walking over to his house. It was a bright summer day and school was looming, but with a week before classes resumed it was still only a threat. Later that afternoon we were going on an AWANA youth group trip to a "cave system" famous in our area. I say cave system, but it was more like a “slight stone indentation.” But if they called it that, who would show up and pay the five bucks?

As I went on about Alex Kidd for the tenth time, Ellis cut in, “Hey...I have a good idea.” My stomach dropped. ‘I have a good idea’ meant Ellis was planning to roll around in some kind of dog shit, and I’d end up covered in it. Ever the fast-talker in his pristine Starter jacket and Vanilla Ice haircut, Ellis always got his way.

Even when you told him No, you were somehow telling him Yes.

That day his “good idea” was to bring Pepsi on the church bus, but open the cans beforehand and spike them with vodka from his stepdad’s liquor cabinet. There was always a lot of booze at Ellis's house. His parents really loved it. They even named their dog "Smirnoff."

I was 14, had never been drunk, or even tasted alcohol, and told Ellis no. Absolutely not.

An hour later on the bus, after we’d both downed our Vodka Pepsi, I was shitfaced and struggling to hold myself together. My vision was swimming and my brain felt like it had been replaced by a fun house mirror. My thoughts felt as wobbly and distorted as the rest of me. Never the victim of his own designs, Ellis was fine. I suspect he dumped more vodka into my can than his.

Thankfully, he was loudly holding court at the rear of the bus, making everyone around us laugh with his made-up exploits. I took this opportunity to sink unnoticed into my seat beside him. Even when I was sober, being noticed was “not optimal.”

Shockingly, the only person who noticed the vodka at all was Pastor Roy, the youth group leader, who stood up and said, “It smells like someone's been drinking on this bus,” in his signature prissy tone. My stomach tightened as his accusatory gaze swept across the bus.

Certain he’d settle his narrowed eyes on me, I closed my eyes and tried to will myself invisible. Having to “pray this out” in front of everyone is the worst punishment the church has ever devised.

Instead, he turned back around and sat down in his seat, shaking his head. I bet he didn’t investigate any further because he just wanted to get the day over with and make it back home without having to admit to someone’s parents that their kid got drunk on his watch.

“Hey, let’s play Rock, Paper, Scissors,” he said. His voice was bright. I said, “OK, that's fine.”

I was already familiar with the rules thanks to Alex Kidd and I was relieved he wanted to do something simple and normal. Something my buzzed-up brain wouldn’t have to focus on too hard.

I should have known better, of course. There was an “Ellis Twist” to this game, which was a special seasoning he would sprinkle on normal activities in order to make them worse for me and more fun for him. These twists would later evolve into things like “breaking and entering” and “vehicular assault” but by then he had other, more willing participants.

The special ingredient that day was bad enough: the winner of each round would lick his first and second fingers, then grab the loser’s wrist with their other hand and slam their fingers down on their forearm with a loud SMACK.

I didn’t win very often. It was like Ellis could somehow read my mind and switch at the very last second to win, just like you could do to the bosses in Alex Kidd. Had I been sober, maybe I would have noticed something was up. Not that I’d have done anything about it, of course, but I’d have noticed.

When I did manage to win, my slaps were purposefully weak. I hate hurting people. I wanted to say uncle and stop. But by this time, all the other kids in the back of the bus were watching us and having fun and I didn’t want to be the reason people were disappointed, so I stayed quiet.

Not everyone was enjoying the show. A girl named Crystal, who was new to AWANA, watched quietly. She didn’t laugh or cheer when Ellis slapped my arm.

By the time Pastor Roy got wind of our Rock, Paper, Scissors game, came back and told us we were ridiculous and to knock it off, my arm was red and starting to bruise.

Ellis was Fine and All Smiles, of course. Ellis was always Fine and All Smiles.

A few hours later, we arrived at the cave, which was situated beside a very large creek. After the requisite group prayer, we were given the choice to explore on our own or with a partner. There were some easy hiking trails that led up to a waterfall far above us. I was a big Indiana Jones Kid, so I was excited for an adventure.

Ellis disappeared with Summer, a girl he liked, leaving me all alone. I could hear his loud, show-offy voice interspersed with her giggles coming from the trees. I stood looking around awkwardly until Crystal, the girl I’d noticed on the bus ride, came over to me. “Do you want to go on a hike with me?” she asked.

She looked cool with her leather jacket and braided ponytail that lay over her shoulder. Unlike the girls at school, the ones at youth group weren’t embarrassed to be seen talking to me.

This was the first time a girl wanted to spend time alone with me, so I didn't hesitate to say yes.

We set off up the trail leading to the waterfall.

Thanks to the illegal teenage buzz I was secretly nursing, I was more talkative than normal. We were going back and forth naturally. You could've mistaken us for pals.

Crystal was confident and funny, and I could tell she didn’t care what people thought about her. I liked that. I envied it. She held your gaze and nodded when you talked to her, like she really wanted to know what you had to say. I barely even glanced away as I talked to her. Sometimes you meet people who make you forget you're supposed to feel self-conscious.

“Do you really think someone was drinking on the bus, like Pastor Roy said?” she asked.

Imitating Pastor Roy’s prissy voice, I said, “No, because I would be responsible for that and I can’t be responsible for sins. I'm a perfect creature." She laughed.

Smiles and laughter came easy for Crystal. For once, they were coming easy for me, too. I was making a friend. I wondered if I should start drinking all the time.

Out of nowhere, she turned serious. “Hey, why did you let that guy on the bus hit you so much? He seems like a real jerk."

I was unprepared for this. I said, "I don’t know, he just has these ideas, and since he’s my friend I go along with them. It isn’t a big deal, it’s fine." I ignored the throbbing in my arm and added "It doesn’t even hurt anymore."

She said, “Well, he was cheating at that game. He was waiting to pick his hand until you did yours at the last second."

She walked a few paces ahead of me then stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face me. She brushed her ponytail off her shoulder and put her hands on her hips.

"Plus, if he was your friend, he wouldn’t do stuff like that. It’s not normal to want to hurt people, especially your friends. It's extremely psychotic.” She stood there, blocking the path, waiting for my reply.

This concept was so alien to me it could have hopped into a UFO and flown away and I wouldn’t have been surprised. Everyone hurts you somehow, that’s just the way people are. I didn't know what to say to her, but I didn't want to say what I was thinking and risk sounding like an alien myself, so I didn't say anything.

I shrugged. She sighed and shook her head, then she turned around and continued up the path. I felt like I'd said the wrong thing, even though I hadn't said anything. I still do that.

We arrived at the top of the waterfall, and peered at the creek far below. It was wide but very shallow, nowhere near the river that had been advertised. It was a day of undelivered promises, I guess.

We spotted a narrow branch of trail dropping steeply toward a rocky outcropping above the creek. Mist from the waterfall had turned it into slick mud, and nothing was there to stop you from sliding your ass right off the edge if you lost your balance.

Crystal said, "Do you want to try going down there?"

I was surprised. From this height, a fall probably meant instant death or at least serious injury. Even worse: embarrassment. But she didn’t seem afraid, so I thought if I pretended I wasn’t either, maybe she’d think I was cool in the way girls always thought Ellis was cool.

“Yeah, let’s do it!” I prayed the excitement in my voice sounded genuine.

“I’ll go first!” I added. Without waiting for her answer, I started down the muddy path and immediately slipped. I forced a chuckle out through my terror so she’d know this was No Big Deal.

I slowed my descent and crouched low, clinging to the thick roots that lined the trail as I inched the rest of the way down toward the edge. Everyone at the creek below immediately spotted me, and Pastor Roy was already shrieking, “Get off there and back onto the main path right now!”

I turned to climb up, but I slid back down and nearly off the edge into the shallow creek forty feet below. My feet dangled in the air before I caught hold of a root. I was scared, but fear wasn't what threatened to paralyze me there on that ledge. It was embarrassment. Everybody's eyes were on me.

My ears were rushing with the sound of pumping blood as I made it back to my feet. I stood there, frozen by nerves and uncertainty about what to do next. Everyone started pointing and yelling, “TAKE HER HAND!” My face was hot as I turned toward Crystal, who had one hand outstretched while the other clung to a small tree behind her. I took it. Her hand was warm and soft, and her grip was strong. Our eyes met as she squeezed my hand, her face expressionless. With a small grunt, she hauled me up. “You alright?” she asked, her voice low.

Ellis would have been laughing at me. I said yes.

I grinned, my cheeks burning, hoping to reassure her that we were still having fun. Her expression stayed neutral as her lips pursed into one of those flat, humorless smiles that don’t quite reach the eyes.

We didn’t talk on the walk back down to the creek, or again on that trip. In fact, Crystal and I never spoke to each other again. It was fine. Normal, even. I always understood.

That evening on the ride home, it started to storm. We were all exhausted from the trip, most of the other kids were soon asleep. Ellis wanted to play Rock, Paper, Scissors again and I nodded. Pastor Roy either didn’t notice or didn't care this time. I didn’t really care anymore, either.

As we played, my thoughts drifted to Miracle World, about how great it would be to actually live there. Even if I never got to keep my motorcycle, Crystal and I would be friends, and winning Rock, Paper, Scissors would make Ellis disappear in a cloud of smoke.

I sat with these thoughts while I listened to the sound of the rain, punctuated by the occasional rumble of thunder and the crack of Ellis's fingers on my arm. He’d given up all pretense of the game and was just slapping my arm and laughing. I wondered what Ellis would be if he gave up every pretense.

I looked across the aisle at Crystal's seat. Her head rested against her rain-streaked window, facing away from us. I thought she was asleep at first, but in the dim light of the bus, accentuated by the flickering of lightning, I could see her fingers twirling the ends of her ponytail.

I shifted in my seat and tried to push away what she’d said to me on the path to the waterfall. Her advice didn’t sound wrong in theory, it only sounded wrong because she had applied it to me. I know she was only trying to be nice, but in that moment I wished she hadn’t said it at all.

After a few minutes, a particularly hard slap on my arm broke me out of my thoughts. I glanced back at Crystal. Her hands were folded in her lap and her breath was slow and even. She wasn't pretending anymore.

I watched her for a few moments, then pulled my wrist from Ellis's grasp. His indignant scoff barely registered as I turned away from him.

I rested my head against my window while my fingers traced the bruised lump on my forearm. The glass felt cool against my forehead as I watched the storm.

Eventually, sleep overcame me as the bus rolled across the dark highway toward home, where Miracle World waited.