I tried to sound deliberate, the way they both always managed to play uncertainty off as thoughtfulness, but it didn’t work, both of them shaking their heads simultaneously.
“You need a direction,” Mom said firmly, and Mimi made a noise of agreement. “I want to hear that you’re committed to a course of action. Soon. Deadlines are fast approaching. You need an appropriate plan for your future. You can’t keep closing yourself off from the world and losing yourself in that game.”
That game was the one bright spot in my life right now, but this was an old argument between us, and I wasn’t going to relitigate it. Instead, that ticket and everything it represented flashed like a neon billboard behind my eyes. Get to Vegas. Win. Join the pro tour. Find a way past my fear of flying. Use pro tour commitments to hold off big decisions that threatened to swallow me whole. Figure out my own life and my own direction away from all their expectations and pressures. It wasn’t a terrible plan.
“I’m not. In fact, I’m considering a trip with…friends.” Friends was pushing it. Professor Tuttle was more of a mentor. Meanwhile, Jasper and Payton loosely tolerated my presence but didn’t invite me along for anything outside of the games, and Conrad and I were closer to enemies than anything else. But, I knew the word friends would immediately reassure the moms, get them to back off.
“That’s wonderful.” Mimi beamed.
“You getting social interaction is always good.” Mom sounded exactly the same as she had about the nine zillion different clubs she’d made me try as a kid, but then her tone shifted to something far more ominous. “But, I want you to come back with a firm commitment to your future. Or else we’re going to need to have a different talk. One about living arrangements.”
Hell. Sweat gathered along my hairline. I’d known that at twenty-three I couldn’t keep living at home, under their benevolence, but I’d hoped to buy myself a little more time. And now, with both of them nodding grimly, I supposed I was locked into going on the trip, no matter what my own reservations were…and no matter who else was along for the ride.
Chapter Five
Conrad
Late. I was late for the Sunday game, and while hardly a novel situation for me, I still hated it. But flat-out sprinting from Maxine’s house also wasn’t an option, so I settled for a half walk/half jog that put me at the game store ten or so minutes behind schedule—which considering that I’d gone from my grocery-store gig to two hours of sleep to covering the lunch rush at the pizza place because someone else was sick, to racing home because I’d forgotten my gaming bag, to back downtown was something of a minor miracle. I was close to falling over from exhaustion, but I was there. Had to count for something.
As I entered the store, my shoulders relaxed the way my body always did there, the glassed-in display cases, shelves of board games, racks of play accessories, and tables of casual gamers reassuring me in a way that little else could. This was my place. It wasn’t my hometown game store, which had been smaller and darker, but the smell of new cards and old coffee was the same, as was my feeling of belonging. After nodding at Arthur, who was looking particularly intimidating cleaning off one of the cases as if its existence offended him, I found my group at one of the back tables. Alden was glaring at the closed door to the private room, but everyone else was kicked back in the folding chairs.
“I’m here. Previous group running behind?” I asked as I took the chair next to Jasper. “Guess I’m not actually late.”
“It’s three forty-five. We said three thirty,” Alden pointed out. “That the other group is also late doesn’t make you less so.”
I blinked at him, wondering not for the first time what the hell his problem was. He had a major tendency to go hyperliteral, especially when plans didn’t go his way. His tone was more matter-of-fact than belligerent or accusing, but it grated. While less accusatory, he still sounded like my dad, all harping on personal responsibility and not interested in good excuses.
“Late Saturday night?” Payton gave me a tired-looking grin. They had on dark sunglasses and a giant fuzzy hoodie and undoubtedly were nursing a world-class hangover. They and I used to be regulars at a lot of the same places a lifetime ago, when my biggest worry on weekends had been where the action was, whether at an all-night gaming marathon or an off-campus party.
“Didn’t make it home until seven thirty.” I went for honest, even if not the whole story.
“The best.” Jasper gave me a high five. “I love living vicariously through you people.”