Help! I Have A Crush On My Rival!?: Prompt 7 & 8

(Read the previous prompt here.)

PROMPT 7: THE INQUIRY

I’m not sure if I should draw the card above or to the right of my current location. Based on a roll of the die, I draw the card above.

Card Draw: Jack of Spades [Black Royal] Gain 1 Insight

Prompt: A peer who generally respects your Rival more than you makes a sneering remark about how your Rival’s focus on you is dulling their edge. They can’t imagine why your Rival is putting in so much effort over you.

Hmmm!  This one will require some creativity since no mutual interest has been expressed publicly, or even privately.  Still, I have an idea that is not exactly how the prompt reads, but honors the spirit of the prompt.

Using the Oracle at RPGSolo: Did Erik see me walk over to Gwen at the Frozen Feast? (50/50) No

*  *  *

“What’s up with you two?”

“Huh?” I was jolted back to reality by Erik’s question.  I was taking some time between games to catch up on sorting some used comics for the store. My mind had drifted while examining the various covers and I didn’t notice my friend approaching. “Up with who?”

“You and Gwen.”

What did Erik know?  For that matter, what could he know? There’s nothing to know.

“Ummm, nothing?” I stammered.  “Why . . . why would you ask that?”

“I just beat her in a game of Ramen, Go!” he explained.  “And not just beat her, I wiped up the table with her.”

“Way to go!” I congratulated. “That’s not an easy task.”

“Thanks, but Gwen wasn’t herself.  At least she wasn’t playing like herself.  She seemed distracted and barely had her mind on the game.  She kept looking at something. When I turned to see what it was, do you know what I saw her looking at?”

After a moment, I realized Erik was waiting for me to answer his rhetorical question.

“No idea. What was she looking at?”

“You, dude!  You!”

My face went warm.  I was sure I was blushing, but I still tried my best to hide my reaction.

“I . . . uh . . . have no idea why she would be looking at me?  Are you sure it was me?”

“Absolutely sure. And I’m as stumped as you.  You two aren’t exactly buddy-buddy?  When’s the last time you even thought about gaming with her.”

“Never.”

“See?” Erik agreed.  “Wait a minute! I heard she’s been talking to Art and Elaine about playing Wyvern’s Retreat for the Holiday Bowl.  Do you think she’s trying to come with a more convincing argument against you? Or maybe she’s just worried the Board will choose your game because you’re a member?”

“Yeah, maybe that’s it,” I said, relieved that Erik was assuming antagonism and hoped he would move onto another subject.

“Whatever it is, you better be careful, Lance, or she’s going to push Andromeda Factions out of the running. Hey, how long till you're done with those comics?”

“I don’t know?  Another ten minutes?”

“Wayne is setting up a game of Gem Squares. I’ll have him wait for you if you want to play.”

“Sure.  I’ll be there in a moment.”

*      *     *

PROMPT 8: THE IMPENETRABLE EXTERMO TENT

I’ll draw the card to the right.

Card Draw: The Second Joker!  Well, that stinks, I’m not ready for this story to end.  Thankfully, the developer caters to the player and encourages them to play in a way that is the most enjoyable and fun for them.  Therefore, the rules specifically state that if the second joker is drawn before you are ready to end the game, “it’s not cheating to shuffle the second joker and the remaining card around and keep going.”  Before I even started, I decided that if I found the second Joker before at least half the cards were drawn, I would reshuffle the remainder and continue.

Second Card Draw: Ace of Clubs (black)  Lose 1 potential

Prompt: It’s possible your Rival has a kind of honor, but whatever that is doesn’t preclude them from pulling an absolutely underhanded stunt this time. How does this sour your feelings?

I have a great idea for this scene and one that would not alter the current attitudes between the characters.  For that reason, I will use one of my “Insight” points and not lose the potential.  I am still at 2 potential.  Per the rules, since I used my Insight, I may choose to skip this prompt, but of course, I’m not.  I think I’m going to have fun writing this scene.

*  *  *

I really wish Erik hadn’t told me anything.  Despite my meeting with Gwen on Wednesday night, I hadn’t thought too much about her this morning.  Sure, we “agreed” to play a game today, but I’m sure she was only being friendly; a way to end our talk without it sounding so final.  That morning, when she never asked me to play, instead of taking the initiative and possibly being rejected, I just put it out of my mind.

But when Erik said she kept looking at me, I had to wonder why?  Was she wanting to play a game?  Or was she afraid I was going to blab about her secret?  Whatever it was, I had to be careful or else Erik might sense I was thinking about something other than our game. Or worse, he might see me glancing over at Gwen.

I wonder what he would think?  He only knows us as rivals.  And for very good reason.  He remembers what happened at that Turf Wars Tournament, and how she infuriated me that day. 

*  *  *

Gwen had been coming to Saturday Game Days for about six months and I was still very much into the Turf Wars trading card game, the game I played with Gwen on her first day there.  Every couple of weeks,  I’d buy a booster pack or two, and that past week I hit the jackpot.  “Impenetrable ExtermoTent.” A super rare card that everyone wanted but no one could find.  Playing it could devastate your opponent's game, causing them to play catch up for the next several turns.  And if you could pair it with “Penetrating Gas” -- which I already owned -- the game was practically over.

If anyone at the “Dice & Deck” did not know I had the “E-Tent,” as it was more commonly known as, I don’t know what they were doing. I was very proud to show it off, drawing “oohs” and “ahs” from everyone. Kids who didn’t even know me had no choice but to listen as I told them about my good fortune. And yes, I even showed it to Gwen, who acted unimpressed, as though it was the fifth one she saw that day. What did she know? She preferred board games.

The card became a permanent fixture in my deck, and I played it with great success over the next several weeks.  The regional Turf Wars tournament was fast approaching, and I wanted to be ready.

The Saturday of the tournament finally arrived. Never before had I approached the check-in table with more confidence than I had that day.  As part of the process, a game monitor reviewed your deck to make sure it met the tournament’s required size and make-up and didn’t contain any illegal cards.  As my deck was being reviewed, Gwen was checking in next to me.

“You probably should’ve stayed home, Gwen,” I told her.  “I’m pretty sure we know who’s going to win this tournament.” Arrogant and prideful.  That was me.

“You?” she questioned, as if she didn’t know I was talking about myself.  “We’ll see.”

The monitor handed my deck back to me. I wished Gwen good luck -- again, dripping with sarcasm-- before heading off to prepare for my first match.

The tournament followed the typical double-elimination format.  It consisted of four rounds, and once you lost two matches, you were out.  After the fourth round, the player with the best win-loss record was declared the winner.  In the case of a tie -- which happened often -- secondary statistics of the final game were used to determine a winner, such as the number of insects lost.

My first match was against a boy several years younger than me.  I think he only came to the store to play in the tournament because I didn’t recognize him from the normal Saturday morning crowd. I won the game quickly and never had a chance to draw my “E-Tent” card.  No worries.  I was sure I would have ample opportunity later.

My next match wasn’t quite as easy.  My opponent was Morgan, and she played her ladybug deck with great skill. It wasn’t until I was able to combine my Spider with “Intricate Web” and knock out her last insect.  The game took much longer than the first, but still, I had not yet drawn my prized possession.

Unfortunately, for my third game, I was paired with the winner of the last Turf Wars tournament.  He usually played at the “Card Cave”, a game store across town, but still had an infamous reputation at the “Dice & Deck.”  Regardless of what cards I may have had in my deck, I knew this one would be hard to win. And I was right.  I may not have been defeated immediately, but I still lost with well over half my deck undrawn. 

However, despite the loss, I relished seeing Gwen get up from her match two tables down, defeated for the second time and out of the tournament.  Our eyes met.  I smiled victoriously, having outlasted her.  She glared back at me with a sneer that ever so slowly turned up into a wicked grin.

She’s crazy, I thought, and turned away.

However, what I found more curious than Gwen's enigmatic smile was the fact that, in three matches, I still had not seen my “Impenetrable ExtermoTent.” I revealed “Penetrating Gas” a couple of times but was never able to complete the devastating combination. 

Going into the final match with one loss, I knew I had no chance of winning the entire tournament; a tournament won with anything less than a perfect win record was unheard of. But I still wanted that final win. I didn't want to be officially eliminated.

My opponent was Mark Mitchel.  He hung out at the “Dice & Deck” often enough, but he mostly came to compete in the tournaments.  It was no surprise he had made it to the end and even less of a surprise that so far he was undefeated that day.  We were evenly matched and our game turned into an epic battle.  He squashed my centipede.  I snuffed his dung beetle.  He repelled me with “Mint Sprigs.” I washed him away with “Hose Spray.” 

Neither one of us truly had the advantage. The match came down to the final few draws of our decks.  I was down to my last card.  If this card didn’t win it for me, I would have nothing left to draw on my next turn and would have lost.  But that didn’t concern me.  I had laid out “Penetrating Gas” several turns ago and only needed the “E-Tent” to win.  With just one card left in my deck, it could only be the “E-Tent”, and I was sure Mark wouldn’t be able to defend against it.

I smiled confidently and stared right at him as I flipped my final card face up. Mark watched as I did . . . but didn’t flinch. Confused, I looked down and saw . . . “Cookie Crumb.”

Cookie Crumb!? That was the weakest power-up I had in my deck!  What happened to my “Impenetrable Extermo Tent?” I frantically began looking around to see if it had fallen while Mark made his final play, winning the match and remaining undefeated.

I picked up my discard deck and feverishly thumbed through it, looking for my lost card.  I knew I hadn’t played it, but maybe it was stuck behind another.  No luck.  Next, I opened my backpack and began rummaging through it.  No “E-Tent.”  Helplessly, I scanned the room, hoping beyond hope I would find my rare treasure sitting on a table or lying on the floor. 

“I think you dropped this.”

I turned to see Gwen.  Her hand was extended toward me, holding the missing card. I quickly snatched it back, a mixture of confusion and relief running through my body.

“You dropped it when you were checking it,” Gwen explained.  “I knew you didn’t want to lose it, so I kept it safe for you.”

Realization struck me at once.  That little . . . witch had it the whole time.  That’s why she was smiling earlier and why she was smiling now!  She knew I was counting on it to win.

I wanted to yell.

I wanted to scream!

I . . . I . . .

I spat right in Gwen’s face!

Help! I Have A Crush On My Rival!?: Prompt 6

(Read the previous prompt here.)

PROMPT 6 - THE PARK BENCH

I haven't mentioned it in a few posts, but this a playthrough of the game "Help! I Have a Crush On My Rival!? available at itch.io.

Let’s choose the card to the right/east.

Card Draw: 7 Diamonds [Red] Gain 2 Potential

Prompt: You find out something deeply personal about your Rival’s past, something that seems like it causes them great pain. How do you find it out? What is it? How does it change your understanding of this person?

This is a great prompt for me.  Whenever I’m playing one of these narrative heavy games, whether it is a traditional TTRPG or a journaling game, I am often thinking ahead and imagining possible scenarios. I say possible, because not everyone gets used. The reality is that I end up discarding a majority of them.  The 7 of Diamonds prompt, however, feeds right into one of those scenes for this story.  In fact, I was really hoping to be able to use this scene, because I felt it could be an important moment.

Disclaimer: This scene involves discussions about serious medical conditions that I have no personal experience with.  If this was a serious work of fiction, I would have done significant research on the topic.  However, as this is a casual hobby, I am relying only on what I think I know and the small amount of basic research I did on the internet. Furthermore, I have tried to stay away from a lot of specifics and be rather vague.  As a result, I am fully aware that the situations I am describing are probably inaccurate, if not outright incorrect, and may not align with real world situations.  On the off-chance that someone is actually offended, I apologize.  That is not my intent.

* * *

You know what is one of the best things about not having to go to school, or holding a 9 to 5 job? You’re free to do whatever you want during the week without having to fight the Friday and Saturday night crowds. That’s exactly how Erik, Wayne, and I were spending that Wednesday night in mid-October. The sun was dropping below the town’s skyline as the three of us walked past the local shops on our way to the theater. We were going to see the recent release in the Planetscan series: Transcendence. 

We were excited -- joking and laughing -- our conversation bordering on immature, if we took the time to really think about it. Our way to the theater took us past the food trucks that set up near the park. Normally, I would pass without a second thought, however, someone caught my eye. Gwen was sitting alone at a table near the Frozen Feast ice cream truck. She was looking down, contemplating the paper cup of ice cream sitting on the table in front of her, slowly swirling her plastic spoon mindlessly. As the street lights flickered on, I thought I saw a brief twinkle on her cheek.

“Guys,” I said, suddenly being serious.  “You go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“Okaay,” Wayne said suspiciously.  “You know they have bathrooms at the theater if you need to . . . “

“No, that’s not it.” I said.  “I just see . . . there’s something I need to check on. You guy go in without me.  If I don’t show up, don’t worry.”

“But all you talked about last week was seeing this movie,” Erik reminded me, as if I had forgotten. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I said, growing more agitated than I should.  “I can see it next week if I need to.  Just go.”

“Whatever,” Wayne said as he and Erik exchanged a “he must be crazy” look before continuing down the street.

When I saw they had turned the corner, I walked over to where Gwen was sitting.  I could see all that was left in the cup was the melted remains of what appeared to be vanilla.  She did not notice me.

“Gwen? Hey.”

Her eyes shot up. Quickly,  she turned her face away and wiped the back of her hand over her cheek and eyes. I had seen tears.

“Hey, Lance,” she said, composing herself.  “You startled me.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Everything’s fine.” Her words came in rapid succession. “I was just having some ice cream, but I’m done now.”

“I thought you were diabetic,” I asked, remembering the latte incident.

“Yeah, that.  Insulin pump. It helps, but I’ll probably still regret this later.”

I had no idea what she meant, but before I could ask she rose from her seat, obviously attempting a quick retreat.

“I gotta go,” she said, and reached to pick up her empty ice cream cup.  Instead, she knocked it on the ground near my feet.  We both bent to pick it up and I got to it first.  I looked up to tell her I had it when I realized she had stopped and slumped to her knees. She held her face in her palms, covering her eyes in hopes I didn’t see her struggle to fight back another wave of tears.

It was time to drop my shield and be vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, Gwen. I’ve been acting like an ass toward you and I need to apologize. I want to start being a better friend . . . or at least a better person, by listening.”

She let down her hand and looked at me with brown eyes that were red, puffy, and full of hesitation.

Real vulnerable!

“I’m safe.”

Gwen let out a breath and stood up.  She glanced around at the people enjoying their food truck eats.

“Not here,” she said.  “Let’s go to the park.”

I followed her across the street to where she chose a bench that was away from the main pedestrian traffic. She sat and motioned me to sit beside her.  I waited patiently, allowing her to speak when she was ready.

“I had to get out of the house.  It was one of those nights. My dad had gotten angry and he was yelling at my mom as she just sat there. I hate to see him like that, but I knew there was nothing I could do.  I had to just let them be them, so I left.”

I couldn’t help but be concerned.  “Did he . . . does he . . . “

“Oh, no!” Gwen quickly assured me.  “It’s not like that. He’d never hurt us or get physical.  Mom would have left if he did. I’d make sure of it. They’re actually a loving couple and he loves us kids.  I’m sorry.  I should have explained first.

“I have a younger brother, Fisher.  He’s not very well.  He was born premature and has been sick for most of his life.  The doctors have labels for all that’s been going on with him, but all that’s important is that Fisher’s been in and out of hospitals for most of his life.  He has his good streaks.  In fact, during most of elementary school, we thought he was through the worst of it and, if not completely well, he would be able to have a life similar to those of his friends.

“Unfortunately, when Fisher turned eleven or twelve, his health took a turn for the worse and the hospital stays resumed.  Any semblance of normal schooling was impossible.  He had to be homeschooled.  I helped tutor him and keep him company, whether he was home or in the hospital.  I know he’s my brother, but he was . . . is my best friend. We’d play games.  Watch movies together . . . scary ones if our parents were asleep.” She smiled at the thought.  “I didn’t have time for any friends except those I had made “Dice & Deck,” my one escape.  But I didn’t mind.  Lance, there’s no one more important to me than Fisher.”

Her voice cracked as she spoke those last words. Tears welled up again in her eyes.  I wanted to reach out to her, offer some comfort, but I didn’t know how she would respond.

“A couple years ago,” Gwen continued. “Right before I left for college, Fisher’s kidneys started failing.  He was taking all kinds of medications and watching his diet, which really was nothing new.  All went well during my first year away, but then about a year ago he had to start dialysis.  At first, it was a few times a week but has since increased to every other day or more.

“My parents dealt with it differently.  For the most part, they’ve supported each other.  They are a strong, loving couple. But when Fisher goes through his really rough times, mom withdraws.  She spends more time reading the Bible and praying for God to ease Fisher’s pain and make him well.  But while mom looks for spiritual comfort, Dad needs personal comfort.  He’s able to cope better with mom’s company and companionship.  Yes, he gives her the space she needs in those times and takes care of things around the house.  But if days grow long, he gets frustrated,  begins feeling alone. 

“In the past, Dad just had to wait a day or two and mom was attentive again. However, as the dialysis increased and mom needed more time, he’s been feeling more and more alone.  If it lasts too long, he gets like he did tonight and blows up.  All he does, yell and complain, venting his frustration, but he won’t listen to anything mom or I say.  It doesn’t last long, usually ten or twenty minutes.  At his worst, like he was tonight, it might be an hour.  When it's over, you can tell he’s broken.  Admittedly, it’s not great, but Dad realized it and he feels he can’t apologize enough.”

She stopped and I thought she might be done.  I didn’t know what to say, but I spoke anyway.

“I hear some people find great comfort in prayer, and it’s good your  mom has that.  But if God’s so good, why . . . “

“Stop!” Gwen glared at me and held up her hand.  “Don’t say ‘If God’s so good, why would he let this happen to Fisher.’  That’s just an excuse used by people who are afraid to trust in God. The fact is, God’s been present with Fisher since the day he was born.  He gave him life, first of all.  He wasn’t supposed to make it out of the hospital. Then, despite his illness, He gave Fisher a great life.  He has a good family . . . a wonderful sister.” Her harsh countenance softened a bit at her own joke. “He’s creative. He writes and draws.  Whatever treatment Fisher needed, somehow God always provided the money or assistance we needed.

“But most of all, God kept . . keeps our family strong.  Despite the brief moments like tonight, we are there for each other.  Never has the thought of separation ever crossed my parents minds.  Yes, dad gets mad and yells sometimes. It’s a sin, for sure. But as I said, he’s never harmed us and he repents immediately. Oh, how he repents, sometimes. I’m actually a little worried to see how he’ll be tomorrow.”

Gwen let out a chuckle, remembering some humorous secret meant only for her.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized.  “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” she replied, having calmed down from her initial reaction. “It was a fair question.”

We shared another silent moment before she continued.

“They’re both right, you know. Mom knows our family’s faith in Jesus is what has maintained us throughout this. Feeding that faith that gives her comfort.  And Dad knows we would have given up long ago if we didn’t support each other as a family. That continued emotional and physical connection, especially with mom, is what comforts him.  It’s just that sometimes those two needs aren’t compatible.  I just feel helpless to fix it. Like tonight.”

“Is that the reason you didn’t go back to college?”

“You hit the nail on the head!  I want to get into law. Not be a lawyer, mind you, but possibly a legal investigator.  Someone who’s very involved in the case, but doesn’t have to put on a show, if you know what I mean. After I graduated from high school, I offered to stay home and help with Fisher, but my parents urged me to go.  They said there was no reason my life should be put on hold when they could handle everything here.

“That worked out fine, until Fisher started needing dialysis.  It became more and more difficult for them to care for him alone.  Mom was already a stay-at-home mother, but dad started missing more and more work.  At the end of last semester, despite their urging me to continue, I made the decision to put my schooling on hold.  Me being home would mean dad wouldn’t lose his job and I could be that companionship for him those times when mom couldn’t.  It isn’t perfect, as proven tonight, but it helps.”

Nothing more was said.  We must’ve sat there for at least five minutes without speaking.  I couldn’t be sure because of the dark of night, but I think Gwen allowed herself to shed a couple more tears.

“Thanks,” she said.  “I really needed a friend tonight. More than I knew.”

“Anytime.” And I meant it.

“I really should be going home.  I hope I didn’t keep from you anything.”

“No worries.”

She stood up and I followed suit.  Without warning, she reached around and gave me a hug.  I had no idea what to do, so I weakly hugged her back.

“Thanks for being the friend I didn’t know I needed,” she said and then turned to walk away.

I took a few steps in the other direction when I heard her call.

“Lance.”

“Yes?”

“Play a game on Saturday?”

“Sure.  Wyvern’s Retreat?”

She smiled, waved, and walked away toward home.

I couldn’t help but feel heartbroken on the way home.  I had no idea what a heavy burden Gwen was carrying.  Obviously, this was the “rough time” Art was talking about. How could I have been so stupid? So callous?

However, I felt something else as I walked home.  It might sound crazy, but along with this sadness I also had a sense of . . . joy?  Okay, that might be too strong. But I did feel like I just did a good thing.  I was there when Gwen needed someone to talk to.  Moreover, she felt comfortable enough to tell me her deepest concerns.  Art was right.  Gwen needed a friend and I was able to be one.

The October night had a chill, but I felt warm.

Suddenly, I stopped.

Crap!

I have a crush on my rival!

(Read the next prompt here.)

Help! I Have A Crush On My Rival!?: Prompts 4 and 5

 (See previous prompts here.)

PROMPT 4 - THE TEAM-UP:

Card Draw: South 1st Joker, another Joker and the game is over . . . maybe.

Second Card: 4 Clubs [black] Lose 1 potential.  Down to 0 potential. Not surprised, considering how the story is going.

Prompt: Your Rival is with some people they seem keen to impress. Who are they? How does your Rival throw you under the bus to try to look good in front of them?

* * *

No point denying it.  The day did not have a good start.  My gesture fell flat and I was embarrassed that I didn’t know Gwen was a diabetic and tried to kill her. Not to mention, I wasted $5.85. I dumped the latte down the toilet--it didn’t seem right drinking Gwen’s latte, and I certainly wasn’t giving it to Erik. Now I stood, sadly looking at myself in the men’s room mirror.  Gwen must think I’m an idiot.

Apologize.  That’s all I can do. Right? What's the worst that can happen?  She laughs. Get real, Lance. She wouldn’t do that. She blows me off and never wants to speak to me again. Perhaps too extreme. She forgives me.  Yeah. I’d like that.

Walking out of the restroom, I saw Gwen, Wayne, and Morgan sitting several tables away. Wayne was one of my best friends. He was the guy who looked like he had eaten one too many burgers or slices of pizza. His black hair was barely combed and his shirts often sported a stain or two from that morning’s breakfast, not to mention a sprinkling of crumbs. He may not have been the neatest boy in the bunch, but he could always be counted on for whatever you needed.  A regular loyal mess.

Then, there was Morgan.  One word comes to mind when I think of Morgan:  Vampire! One might think that description was true if it wasn’t for the bright, Saturday morning sun shining through the windows. The girl was your typical modern goth.  She wore all black, with matching lipstick and nail polish. Her short blonde hair was dyed black at the ends. Rounding it all off was her proverbial silver nose ring.

The three were putting away the game they had started earlier when I went to the restroom. (I must’ve been in there longer than I realized.) I waited to see if they were going to leave the table. I didn’t mind saying anything in front of Wayne, but if I could avoid Morgan, that would be preferable. She and Gwen always stuck together, and I pictured them laughing about that “silly dweeb” later on. (Yes, even though we’re years out of high school, I still imagine girls calling me a dweeb.) Besides, Morgan was one of the biggest gossips I knew. Before the week was over, all her thrall would know what I’d done.

To my dismay, they had another game lined up.  However, despite my reservations, I didn’t want to wait. I walked over before they got too involved.

“Gwen. I just wanted to apologize.  If I knew you were a diabetic, I wouldn’t have . . . “

“It’s okay, Lance. It’s no big deal.” Gwen had already forgotten about it.  It was obvious that it didn’t mean much to her, since she didn’t even acknowledge my attempt at a kind gesture. I did what I had come to do. Now all I wanted to do was leave.

“Lance,” Wayne piped up. “We’re about to play a game of Vocations.  You want to join us?”

I was going to politely decline, but then I saw Morgan and Gwen give each other a concerned look at Wayne’s suggestion.  Suddenly, I felt like I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

“Sure, sounds fun.”

Morgan and Gwen slumped a little in their seats.

*  *  *

Vocations was little more than a beefed up Life.  It was more “casual” than the usual Saturday fare, but sometimes you just want to roll your dice and move your mice, in a manner of speaking.  We had all established our professions and I was about to instigate a hostile takeover against Morgan, when Gwen leaned over to her and whispered.

“Here comes Art, now’s your chance.”

While I was wondering what chance Gwen was talking about, Art strolled up to our table to see how we were doing. We all said we were doing fine before Morgan asked about the Holiday Bowl.

“You’re taking suggestions for the Bowl game, aren’t you?”

“Yes, we are,” Art responded.  “Did you have a suggestion?”

Morgan shot Gwen a fleeting glance before continuing. “I was thinking we might want to play a game that had a little bit of everything: deck-building, questing, a game board.  Maybe something like Wyvern’s Retreat?”

The blonde and red-head shared another quick look. Amazing! They were teaming up . . . and right in front of me, as well.  Surely, Art wasn’t going to fall for this.

“Gwen mentioned that game as well,” Art said.  “I’ll have to check and see what everyone else thinks about it.”

He is falling for this! I couldn’t let this go on unchecked.

“But we’re not making any decisions yet,” I said to the girls, putting on my virtual Game Board hat.  I’m sure we’ll have a lot of other good games to consider.”

“Certainly,” Gwen agreed. “Which brings up a point, Art.  All suggestions will be considered equally? Right?”

“Well, everyone wants to suggest a game,” Art admitted.  “But the suggestions we receive from people who have been playing here a while and have good, thought-out reasons . . . yeah, they all get equal consideration.”

“I wanted to make sure.  Last week, Lance suggested I withdraw my suggestion until next year.  I think it was because he wanted less competition against his choice. I was worried he might dismiss any other games that were suggested.”

Gwen smirked.  Morgan looked aghast (though I was pretty sure she was feigning surprise).  I was seething and shot daggers back. 

“Really?” Art asked.  I could sense his eyes scrutinizing me.  “I’m sorry, Gwen.  I don’t want anyone to be discouraged that we might play favorites.  I see you’re in the middle of a game, but Lance, if we could talk before you leave today.” 

“Yes, sir,” I said, not knowing why I got so formal all of a sudden.

Morgan giggled as Art walked away.  (Like I said . . . vampire.) Wayne remained silent, as he did throughout the entire episode. Gwen sat back satisfied, yet challenging.

I suddenly stood up, making sure to strike my thigh against the table and send the game pieces sailing off onto the floor.  I stomped away, followed by the questioning gazes of the other gamers in the room.

* * *

PROMPT 5 - THE OFFICE

Card (Direction chosen by random): Jack of Clubs [black] Royal cards do not change potential, but do give you new advantages in the game.  Red Royals give you a “Save,” which will be explained later.  Black Royals give you an “Insight.” Insights give you the advantage to negate a black card. You may use 1 Insight when you draw a black card to avoid losing any potential.  Whether or not you chose to answer the prompt is optional.  This draw of a Jack of Clubs adds one to my Insight.  Insight: 1

Prompt: One of your Rival’s associates mentions that they’ve been talking about you a lot lately. Why would that be?

*  *  *

At least Art had the sense to take us to a back office. I didn’t need . . . want him to chew me out in front of the others.  After admitting to him that Gwen was telling the truth, I stared at the wall while Art sat on the edge of a desk and proceeded to tell me why what I did was wrong, that it was not how he wanted the Game Board to be viewed, and that he was this close to revoking my membership. 

“I know,” was the only apology I could give. 

When Art finished, he said he’d write it off as a warning and suggested I say nothing more about the Bowl to anyone, but just listen politely if someone has a suggestion.

“What’s going on with you?” He suddenly asked, shifting the conversation.  “You’re a good guy.  Everyone likes you.  If you’re not careful, you’re going to blow a great opportunity.”

What opportunity?

“Opportunity?”

“Yeah, with Gwen.” Huh? “She's been looking for friends since she’s been back.”

“She always has Morgan.” I stated what I thought was obvious.

“Yes, but she’s also been about you?”

I tensed.  Fear? Excitement?  “She has?  What has she been asking?”

“It may not have occurred to you, but there are a lot of new faces around here since she left. Yes, there’s Morgan, me, you, Wayne and a few others.  But almost everyone she used to hang around with has either moved, went away for school, or simply stopped coming.  I think she’s had a rough time lately, and now she’s looking to regain some of those fun times.”

“Is that why she stayed and hasn’t gone back to college?”

“Don’t know. She hasn’t told me much about her personal life and it’s really none of my business.”

His admission gave me a wave of relief. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Haven’t you been listening?  She doesn’t know the new people.  But she knows you.  You used to play with each when she lived here? Right?”

Again, Art and I hung around different groups of people.  He didn’t really know what our past relationship was like.  “Yeah.  A little.”

“Perhaps she considered you a friend, but now she’s noticing that you are avoiding her.  And those times you haven’t, you apparently haven’t been the nicest person to her.  She asked me if I knew of any reason why.  Had she done something wrong?  Did you have something else going on in your life?”

I was stunned.  “I had no idea.”

“She wants to be your friend, Lance.  You’re always so friendly to everyone else.  I don’t know why you’re treating her differently.” He rose from the desk and headed for the door.  “Think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

Art left me sitting alone.

(Read the next prompt here.)

Help! I Have A Crush On My Rival!?: Prompt 2 and 3

(See introduction here.)

Prompt 2 - The Compromise:

Random Starting point, counting from lower left: Use Google to generate a random number - 4

Card: 2 Hearts [Red] (How appropriate, though probably early) Gain 2 potential.

Prompt: The two of you have a shared goal, for once. What’s challenging both of you enough that you can form a temporary truce? How do you overcome it? How well can the two of you work together when you have to?

* * *

The rest of the morning was a blur. I simply couldn't concentrate. I just kept thinking about the conversation between Gwen and Art.  Art wasn't really considering Gwen game suggestion, was he?  And why didn't he and Elaine tell me they were inviting her? I am a member of this Board.  I should have a say! And … and … well, I just didn't want to think about it anymore.  I wanted to play. 

However, that didn't go very well either. I lost every match and I was twenty minutes into a game of (ready for this?) Wyvern's Retreat, the Devil's (and read that “Gwen’s”) Kool-Aid before I knew what I was doing. It was no surprise. I couldn't help but keep looking over to where Elaine and Art were having their meeting with Gwen.

I really wanted to know what they were talking about. Were they still talking about the Holiday Bowl? Or were they now discussing her joining the Board, and if so, shouldn't I be a part of that? And why did Art … I mean, the two of them need to talk to her for so long.

It was almost noon, and it was obvious that I was finding no enjoyment today. I was ready to head home, but as I headed for the door I saw Gwen several steps ahead of me leaving as well.  In a snap decision, I decided I wanted to try and fix this situation now, instead of stewing over it all week. I didn't want to know about the Board, that was a horror I preferred not to think about as long as possible.

“Gwen!”

“Hey, Lance. What’s up?” My heart skipped a beat when Gwen turned around.  She didn’t exactly smile, but her eyes were curiously kind.

Okay, I think I better explain something before you get the wrong idea.  The way I described our relationship earlier, I suspect you think Gwen and I were the definition of antagonism, every meeting a battle for dominance.  That’s not exactly true.  Gwen was confident, determined, and competitive, but she wasn’t evil! Truth be told, I was the one who was rude, obnoxious, and dismissive.  In fact, right now, Gwen was probably wondering what was so important that I would even want to talk with her.

“I heard you talking with Art this morning about the Holiday Bash.  I thought we might be able to work together to choose the best game.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“As I’m sure you know, this is my first year on the Game Board. I’ve worked really hard for this, helping out when I can, running errands.  I even got a job here and am able to do a little during the week, when Elaine and Art can’t.  What I’m trying to say is, I’ve been wanting to be as useful on the Board as I could so that I might have a say in what the year’s final tournament would be.  So . . . maybe you could not push your game anymore and let me have it this year?  Then you can talk up Wyvern’s Retreat as much as you want for next year.”

This time Gwen did smile . . . a wide “You can’t fool me” smile.

“That doesn’t sound like working together,” she said.  “That sounds like you getting your way.  Let me guess, you want a trading card game?”

“Andromeda Factions,” I admitted.

“C’mon, Lance.  You know a trading card game isn’t a great choice for the Bowl.”

“Whattdya mean?”

“Not only can each individual title be niche, no one is starting off on an even playing field.  Depending on how much you play, and let’s face it, how much money you are willing to spend, or even have for that matter, one player may have a strong deck with all sorts of advanced cards while others decks may have weaker base cards and whatever trades its owner was able to make. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“We could make it sealed deck, where everyone gets random boosters and have to make their deck from that?”

“Still, it makes for a better, more inviting tournament, if all the players have access to the same items as everyone else.  That’s why self-contained games are best. Besides, that's not how this works.  Anyone can offer suggestions to the Board, and since I’m friends with Art . . .”

My heart suddenly skipped another beat.

“. . . I thought he might give it more than just a passing thought.” Then her eyes narrowed, and her tone became very matter-of-fact. “Nice try, Lance, but I don’t really know what you are worried about.  Like you said, you’re on the Board.  I’m sure you’ll do all you can to sabotage me.”

Ouch!

“I wouldn’t do that!”

“Sure,” Gwen responded, not sounding convinced. “See you next week, Lance,” she said, turned, and walked away.

===============

Prompt 3 - The Olive Branch:

Not sure which way I want to move, so I’ll roll for it: 2 (east)

Card: 6 Clubs [Black], Lose 1 potential

In a moment of feeling especially cordial toward your Rival, you make a small gesture of friendship toward them. (Example: Sending them a holiday card, or inviting them to a meal with you and your friends.) Your Rival seems to ignore your overture completely. How do you feel?

I have an idea of what to offer, but I’ll make a couple of rolls on RPGSolo’s Complex Questions for inspiration:  Aggressively / Enormous  Innocently / Nondescript 

Okay, that couldn’t have been two more opposite descriptions, but the enormous and innocent confirm some of my original idea, so I’ll go with it.

RPGSolo’s Oracle: How did Gwen respond to the discussion about the Board?  Was she interested in joining?  (Unlikely, because she just returned home and the invite is out of the blue.  Not something she was expecting and unsure what her future plans are.)  No.

*  *  *

“I'm sorry I didn't get back to you on Saturday. What did you want to talk to me about?”

It was Art. He was calling to apologize for not talking to me on Saturday.  I accepted the apology, even though I was the one avoiding Art after hearing his conversation with Gwen. I gave him my Andromeda Faction pitch over the phone, though it was admittedly less enthusiastic than I had planned. He brought up some of the same points Gwen did, but started brainstorming about ways to make it work without any prompting from me.

“One more thing,” I asked, daring to broach Gwen’s invitation. “Were you going to talk to me about Gwen joining the Game Board?”

“Oh. That. The thought only came to me last Friday night. I called Elaine to get her opinion, and she wanted to wait till the morning and talk to Gwen before considering an official invite. I probably shouldn't have said anything to Gwen until Elaine and I were able to speak with her together.”

“Shouldn’t I have been included in that conversation?”

“You’re right.  I’m sorry,” Art apologized.  “The last invite was you, and of course the only one I had to discuss it with was Elaine.  I still think of Elaine as the head of the Board and she’s the one to give any final blessings.  Besides, I didn’t think you would mind if we asked Gwen.

I was hurt that he didn’t think of me as an important member of our trio, but I couldn't really fault him. I thought of Elaine the same way, and Art and I had different friends when I was in high school, so he wouldn't have known about Gwen’s and my rivalry.

“As it turns out,” he continued, “it's not going to happen. Gwen's not interested.  She just got back to town and is not sure about her plans for the next several months. To her credit, she also thought it would be unfair to others who have been here a while.  I can’t lie, I was disappointed. Hopefully, she’ll reconsider in the future.”

Because you think she'll be good at it, or because you want to spend more time with her?

I'm not sure why I thought that, but I brushed it away.  I had one quick, final thought, one that required me to ask Art another question.

“Do you know if Gwen drinks coffee? I don't remember if I've seen her with one?”

“Hmm, I think I've seen her come in with a cup from JavaBeans, but I'm not positive.”

Despite Gwen’s and my conversation last Saturday, I wasn’t ready to give up on changing her mind.  More importantly, however, she thought I was a saboteur and I had to do something about that.  And third, I hadn’t been as friendly toward her as I should have been.  Maybe I could take care of all three with one big gesture.

*  *  *

I can’t say I’ve ever been to JavaBeans myself.  Why pay over five bucks for something that can just as easily brew in a pot at home yourself?  But everyone seemed to rave about their coffee and this was a special circumstance.  I could have just picked up a plain coffee, but I really wanted to make an impression, so I asked the kid at the drive-through to recommend a really fancy drink.  The vanilla latte sounded nice, and I had it topped with whipped cream and cinnamon sprinkles. 

The coffee shop was across the street from the “Dice & Deck”, and as I was paying, I saw Gwen walking across its parking lot.  What perfect timing!

As I walked into the store, I noticed Gwen wasn’t holding a coffee cup.  I didn’t think about it until then, but I could have looked really stupid, offering her a coffee when she already had one. Lucky break there, until I thought, What if she doesn’t have a coffee because Art was wrong and she doesn’t like coffee? Before I started second-guessing myself too much, I approached her and extended my olive branch.

“Good morning, Gwen.  I was in the drive-through of JavaBeans when I saw you walking in the store.  I thought I do something nice and pick this up for you.”

Inwardly, I chastised myself.  When I was stopped at JavaBeans? I didn’t have a coffee of my own.  What if she noticed? 

“What’s that?” she asked instead, wrinkling her nose.

“A vanilla latte with whipped cream and cinnamon sprinkles.  I wanted to get you something good.”

“Ugh,” She looked disgusted.  “I can’t have all that!”

“I’m sorry . . . I didn’t . . . I didn’t know you were . . . “ As I stammered, I couldn’t help but drop my eyes to look at her body.

“Please!” Gwen rolled her eyes.  “I’m not watching my weight.  I’m a diabetic. That’s too much sugar for me.  You can have it.” She glanced around. “Or give it to Erik.  I think he likes that stuff.”

She didn’t even say goodbye as she walked away to join Morgan and Wayne, who were setting up a game at a table in the back.

I stood there dumbfounded, holding the latte, whipped cream beginning to melt down the side.

Shit!

(Read next prompts here.)