Six #2
Dad, having basically checked out of the game, sits with a beer in hand, managing the mountain of food tokens in front of him.
His Halflings have been fruitful. Emma’s empire is in decline, and she loses more territory to Garrett and me with every passing turn, an innocent bystander in our quest to destroy each other.
And Aunt Liz, finishing her third glass of wine, has crafted an intricate still-life scene using dozens of game pieces.
She holds her phone in one hand, wine in the other, and snaps photos of her creation from different angles.
“I think I’ll title it Lords of Shadow and Plastic,” she says.
Emma giggles. Garrett and I ignore her.
“Emma,” Garrett says, sitting back and breaking the tunnel of silence between us, “I’ll return those last three territories I captured from you in exchange for fifty gold.”
“No,” I say. “That would be a stupid deal for her.” Those territories are worthless and fifty gold is a game-changer.
Emma glares at me defiantly. “I get to decide what I do with my gold.” She eyes the stack of treasure she collected from her ocean expeditions, looks at the three territories, and pushes her gold across the table toward Garrett.
“Good choice.” He holds out a fist, and she bumps it.
“Are you serious?” I say. “You can’t do that.”
Garrett narrows his eyes at me. “Oh, did I miss the part in the rules that say you can’t make deals with other players?”
“We never make deals,” I argue. “It’s not fair.”
Garrett looks at Emma. “Did that deal feel fair to you?”
She beams, placing workers in her newly regained territory. “Yep!”
Garrett shrugs at me. “There you go.”
I feel heat pouring into my cheeks. He sits, arm thrown over the back of his chair, legs spread wide, smirking at me like he’s unsurprised he happens to be the best at a board game he’s never played before, like winning is his birthright.
Sizzling, staticky energy once again ignites in my stomach, this time traveling up my spine, and I recognize it as pure, unfiltered attraction. I hate myself for it.
I can play dirty, too.
“Hey, Dad,” I say. “I’ll give you thirty gold for half of your food.” With extra food, I could double the size of my military and topple Garrett once and for all.
“I’ll give you fifty,” Garrett says, sliding the pile of coins he’s just received from Emma toward Dad.
“Sorry, Enz,” Dad says, pushing his food stores toward Garrett. “I gotta go with the better offer.”
Garrett scoops up the pile of food, enough to establish a massive army. Enough to obliterate me.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say.
“Enzo!” Aunt Liz says, surprised.
I don’t back down. “No. Since when is it okay for three people to gang up on one? This is bullshit.”
“It’s just a game,” Dad says.
Ironically, I’m usually the one who says that, shrugging as I bumble into second place.
“I know it’s a game!” I shout. “And this douchebag”—I point at Garrett—“didn’t like that I was winning and decided to make up his own rules!” I’m vaguely aware that I’m standing, that most of my pieces have fallen to the ground at my feet.
“What the hell, Enzo?” Dad says. “You’re being a bad sport. Apologize.”
Why do adults always tell pissed teenagers to apologize to each other? When has that ever worked?
Sorry, Garrett. I was an ass and acted impulsively. It’s because you’re too smart and perfect and attractive. Can you forgive me?
Of course, Enzo! Let’s be friends and go play Call of Duty in my room!
Fuck that.
“Nah, it’s okay,” Garrett says. “I get worked up over games sometimes, too.”
I don’t get worked up over games. This feeling is new to me, and I hate that I come out of this situation looking like a rage-fueled loser while Garrett gets to be the reasonable one, that my family thinks less of me and more of him.
“Fuck off,” I say.
Before anyone can react, I storm out of the room.
The only problem is that I storm out in the wrong direction and now I’m in the kitchen, my only escape route being the back door.
I don’t really want to go outside, but I also don’t want to go back through the dining room with my family and their disappointed glares to get to my bedroom.
I’m committed at this point. I slam the door on my way out and sit on the back steps.
The night air is cool, and I wrap my hands around my bare arms. The sound of some sort of late-summer insect chirrups nearby. My breathing slows. Out here, Lords of the Shadowrealm feels distant and small and stupid.
A few minutes later, Aunt Liz sits down next to me.
“Well, that was a side of Enzo I’ve never seen before.” She says it in a way only she can: telling me that I screwed up but somehow not making me feel too shitty.
“That’s because Dad and Emma don’t cheat at games.”
“Oh really?” she says dryly. “Is that it? You felt cheated?”
I grunt in response.
“Or was it because you felt like you had something to prove and got caught up in it?”
I sit on that truth bomb for a few minutes. I look at Aunt Liz. “I just hate that I’m going to spend the next year living with someone who brings out the worst in me.”
“Why? Because he’s different from what you’re used to? Because he challenges you? Because he changes our family dynamic? Isn’t that what an exchange student is for?”
“I thought it was to learn about another culture.” I give a hollow laugh. “We dropped the ball on that part.”
“Have you been to Atlanta?” Aunt Liz snorts. “Because I have, and compared to Irontown, that place could be a whole ’nother country.”
This makes me smile. We sit for a few more minutes in the dark. A car starts a couple of blocks away, then silence.
She looks at me sideways. “Did your dad tell you about his conversation with Garrett’s parents?”
I shake my head.
She nods, and I can tell she’s trying hard to figure out what to say next, how much to divulge. “I was there. Working the cash register. He was in the kitchen, and well … Do you remember that time when you were in sixth grade and that one kid, Evan Hoagie or something—”
“Evan Hegge?”
“That’s the one. Evan Hegge was bullying you at the bus stop, calling you names every day, pushing you around?”
“Yeah.”
“And when your dad called his parents they tried to blame you?”
“Oh yeah.” I grin at the memory. “Dad went batshit on them. Swearing like crazy. Name-dropped all of his friends on the school board and told them he would get Evan expelled.”
Aunt Liz nods, then her smile fades. “It was like that with Garrett’s parents.”
“What did they do?” I ask, wondering what could possibly get Dad so riled up about a kid he barely knows.
“I didn’t hear all of their end of the conversation. And what I did gather isn’t my story to share.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“Because Garrett needs a friend, and you need to learn that there are good people from places outside Irontown.”
“We’re nothing alike.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s the point. And as an outside observer during that Shadowmist game, I think the two of you have more in common than you’d care to admit.”
I open my mouth to argue, but she holds up a finger.
“Nope! That’s the parting wisdom I’m going to leave you with.” She waves her hands in front of her face and makes her voice sound like the Ghost of Christmas Past from A Christmas Carol. “Youuuu could beeeee gooood for each other!”
She stands up. I do, too. She pulls me into a hug, then pads across our backyard and into the alley. She’s walking home tonight. Her house is a few blocks away.
When I head back into the dining room, everyone else has already gone to bed. A lamp in the corner casts a dim glow over the Shadowrealm game, now packed in its box, resting innocently in the center of the table.
Shame stabs at my stomach.
When I get to the third floor, a light glows from under Garrett’s bedroom door. I pause, wondering if I should apologize. But it’s late, and he’ll be there tomorrow, so I close myself in my room and crawl into bed.