Help! I Have A Crush On My Rival!?: The Afterpost

(See the previous prompt here.)

 The Afterpost

So, that was my journal for the CARTA game Help! I Have a Crush On My Rival?! by Dice Problems.  While I was enjoying the game and seeing where the story would go, I do think it ended at about the right time.  Due to the nature of the game prompts, it was likely that the characters would continue to go through the “friend/enemy” cycle, which would not only become boring but also difficult to fit naturally into the story I was telling.

This most interesting aspect of the game is how much it ended up parallelling a typical Hallmark movie script.  I made no secret right from the beginning that I expected to fall back on a lot of rom-com, Hallmark tropes. However, because of the randomness of the prompts, I had little idea how or when they would fit in.  Now that it’s done, it appears that they fit in rather well.  A girl returns to her hometown because of a family need, often medical, after leaving for a promising future  (honestly, I didn’t even recognize I had included this trope until after I was done); girl meets the boy with whom she previously experienced animosity; boy and girl soften toward each other through time spent together; a big misunderstanding (usually by the boy) that threatens the relationship; an interrupted kiss; the boy and girl admitting their feelings for each other and kiss right before the movie ends abruptly mere seconds or minutes later. Yep. I wrote a Hallmark script.

Is this the end of Lance and Gwen’s story, at least as far as my involvement goes?  I’m not entirely sure that I’m ready to leave them behind . . . for several reasons. For starters, I like writing about all the characters in this story.  Also, I had a few ideas that I did not get to explore, and I wouldn’t mind having the chance to share them with my readers.  Finally, continuing their story could give me an opportunity to explore and share my faith from the perspective of someone who is not a Christian, but is motivated to learn more about what that means. 

If I do continue with Lance and Gwen’s story, I’m not sure what form it would take.  Possibly I could use another journaling game, however, I feel I would want more control over events than random prompt draws would be able to provide.  I’ve seen some romance and relationship based TTRPG systems.  I’ve never had a desire to look at one of those, but perhaps they may work.  Most likely, however, I’ll just write straight fiction and post it in some form or manner. Which, if any, method I chose, that’s for the future.

One final thing to note before I move on, I included an easter egg in this game that so far has not been publicly mentioned by any reader. It’s not hidden, meaning it’s out in the open throughout the entire story and, somewhere just after the midway point, had a strong signpost.  I’ll keep quiet a little bit longer, just to see if anyone mentions it.

Now it’s time to look forward to what’s next for Teviko604.  Next month marks a year since I last posted for my Tunnels & Trolls Cyenannore campaign.  Getting back to that story is well overdue, and my immediate focus is to get another few chapters done.  More long term plans, however, are to build up this blog to be more than just a place where I post my stories.  For starters, I am working with someone to help develop a logo to spice up the place a bit.  Next, I am planning a series of articles to help with the impossible answer to the question, “How do you play an RPG Solo?” Those will lead up to a video series I’ve been thinking about for a while that will help explore that question even further.  Except for my campaign, all of this will take weeks or months to put together. It’s an ambitious goal, but if it all goes well, I see it potentially being very rewarding.

As always, thanks for reading.
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Jer. 29:11

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Help! I Have A Crush On My Rival!?: Prompt 18

(Read the previous prompt here.) 

Prompt 18 - The Invitation:

I feel like I want to go to the space below my current location.

Card Draw: Joker  - Oh no!  That ends the game, except for handling my one “Save” darw.  Let’s hope it’s a red.

Save Draw: 2 Clubs - Nope. That means that Potential does not increase, and any card that does not increase Potential is ignored during a “Save” draw, so nothing is affected.

Time to determine the end.  I have a total of 5 potential.

From the rules:

The game ends with a confession.

In a moment of tension, the consequences aren’t enough to stop emotions from breaking loose.

If you have “X” Potential…  (Of course, this will remain a secret until the end!)

*          *          *

“Things are going to be rough for the next several weeks,” Erik explained as he and I gathered and sorted cards after our Andromeda Factions demonstrations.

“Really? How so?” I asked.

“I have this programming assignment due before winter break, and it's using a language I’m not that familiar with.  It’s not very intuitive, either. At least not to me.”

Unlike Gwen and I, who are each on hiatus from school for various reasons -- Gwen for family, and me for . . . well, I really just don’t want to go -- Erik and Wayne were both attending Rainger University.  It was located a couple cities away, but close enough for them to carpool together and save money by staying at home.  Erik was working on a Computer Engineering degree, hoping to land a job in cybersecurity.  Wayne was simply going for a Business Administration degree, having heard that such a degree can open the door for almost anything.

“I hope your project doesn’t cut into your Saturday time,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sure it will, but I’ll be here for the Bowl.  You can count on that.”

By now, all the cards were collected and put back into their storage boxes.  It was getting late, so I said goodbye and headed out to my car.  I was barely out the door when Gwen strode up beside me.

“Hey, Lance.  I wanted to thank you properly for saving my skin this morning. That could have been a disaster.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.  “You gotta protect the game.”

“Was that all?”  She asked with a knowing smile.

“You caught me,” I admitted playfully. “I didn’t want you to get embarrassed.”

We reached my car and stopped. Gwen faced me and grasped my hands in hers. “Thank you. I mean it. And thank you for your offer of coffee. I had no idea how important it was to you.  I thought I was saving you some trouble.  I won’t be so thoughtless next time.”

We stared at each other.  I found myself smiling, but not sure what to say.

“You want to meet Fisher?” She said suddenly, her eyes widening as what she believed was a great idea.

“Sure,”  I said. “I’d love to meet him sometime,”

“Sometime?  How about now?”

“Uh, sure. But I don’t know where you live.”

“Just follow me.” And she took off for her car.

*    *    *

“Are your parent’s home?” I asked as she unlocked the door.

“They’re probably out grocery shoppings or doing some other chores,” Gwen explained. “Dad tries to take the whole Sunday ‘Day of Rest’ thing pretty seriously. So, he tries to get as much done as he can on Saturday.”

“Must be nice to not do anything all day.”

“Well, that probably going a bit far,” she admitted as the door opened.  “Let’s just say, he does less.  And, of course, there’s church.”

“Of course,” I agreed, not exactly sure to what I was agreeing.

Gwen pushed the door open and I followed her inside.

“Fisher!  I’m back,” she cried. “And I brought a friend.”

“Morgan?” a hopeful sounding male voice answered from somewhere down the hall.

Gwen motioned to me and I followed her down the hall into another room.  Fisher’s room was extremely neat and clean.  His desk was clear except for a laptop.  All that was on the nightstand was a lamp and a single soda can, sitting squarely on a round cork coaster.  The light blue walls were bare, except for one framed picture of a pack of wolves stalking between the trees in a snow-covered forest. The owner of the room sat in the middle on his bed holding a small gaming device.  He wore a dark-colored t-shirt and shorts and other than being a bit gangly, he looked just like any normal teenager.

A look of disappointed immediately crossed Fisher face as we entered when he noticed I wasn’t Morgan.  However, disappointed quickly turned to curiosity about this stranger standing in his room.

“Fisher, this is Lance,” she introduced me.  “He’s one of the boys from the “Dice & Deck.”

“Lance Walsh?,” Fisher brightened.  “You’re the Andromeda Factions nut, right?”

Nut, huh?  “Yeah, that would be me.”

“I’ll be right back,” Gwen said. “You two get to know each other.”

“You’re friends with Morgan, right?” Fisher asked as I took a few steps closer to the bed.

I don’t know If I’d say friends. “Yeah, she hangs out on Saturday mornings.”

“Okay,” he said warily. “But just so we’re clear, I’ll let you date my sis, but don’t get any ideas about Morgan. She’s mine!” He gave me a knowing wink to let me in on the joke.  Still, I quickly glanced over my shoulder to make sure Gwen was actually gone and didn’t hear her brother’s comment about us dating.

“Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that,” I assured him once I knew we were alone.  “Gwen tells me you like Morgan.”

“We’re friends.  That’s all,” he said, brushing the idea away.  “I’m not going to kid myself that we could be anything more.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.  Gwen tells me you’re a great guy, and if you and Morgan are such good friends, why wouldn’t she be interested.”

“Even if she was, what’ve I got?  Five years at the most.  Nah, she needs to find someone who’s gonna be around.”

“Don’t talk like that!” I said, shocked at his fatalist view, but also remembering Gwen tell me she suspected Morgan might feel the same. “You seem rather healthy.  You can beat this.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Lance.  This is one of my good days.  By Monday morning, I’ll barely be able to get out of bed.  Look, the doctors aren’t sure of everything that’s going on with me, but they try to give me hope.  They say there’s this experimental cure, or that treatment, but I know it’s mostly lip service.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“About dying?”  He gave a chuckle, of all things.  “I can’t stop it. Dying, I mean.  And honestly, I know where I’m going, and I can’t wait to be done with this.”  He spread his arms and wiggled his fingers at himself.  “Know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” I said, but in my mind, I didn’t understand.  I guessed it was a faith thing. What really took my by surprise, however, was his nonchalant attitude.  Fisher was taking this all in stride, like his was any other life.  I had seen others miserable with cancer, trying their best to appear unconcerned while still emitting a sense of fear.  But not Fisher.

Still, I wanted to move on from what I at least felt was a morbid topic.

“What’s that?” I asked, pointed to the device in his hands.  “An old Gameboy?”

“Nah!  This is one of those retro devices that plays those games old people like my dad used to play when they were kids.  Some of them aren’t that bad, but they’re no Mission of Honor.  But who cares about that?”  He mindlessly tossed the tiny console aside and laid back on the bed, resting his head against the headboard and motioning me to sit.  “What I wanna know is about you. I’ve been wondering how long before Gwen brought you home.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, accepting his invitation to sit on the side of the bed.

“Sis has had a thing for you ever since high school.”

“She has?”

“Yeah. She’d come home every Saturday talking about what ‘game she played with Lance.’ How she hoped you’d be there next week.  I’m assuming you didn’t play with her much once she’d been there a few months, ‘cause I could tell when she was unhappy after coming home. She wouldn’t exactly tell me what was wrong, except to mention how you were too busy with the other kids to play with her. Then came the Turf Wars incident. I was sure it would be all over after that.”

“You heard about that, huh?”

“Of course!” Fisher cried, as though it would be obvious.  “Gwen cried every day for a week after that.  I told her she didn’t need a friend like you and to forget you.  I mean, I didn’t know you, of course, but if nothing else, I was tired of hearing about my big sister’s crushes.  You know what I mean?”  His flashed me a big knowing grin.

Not having any siblings, I could only guess at what he meant. I smiled and nodded back, as though I did.

“But then,” he continued.  You bought her lunch.”

I looked at him puzzled.  “No.  Last week she paid for our lunch at Sand Which?”

“Not last week, silly.”  Fisher rolled his eyes.  “Back then, when you paid for her pizza. My goodness, you'd ’ve thought you were some gallant knight in shining armor, promising to sweep her up on your white horse and whisk her away.  You made a friend for life that day, Lance, and I don’t think you even knew it.”

“I had no idea,” I said. Sure, Gwen told me a little about she felt, but I never imagined she felt this strongly. “Gwen never said anything back then.  In fact, I only thought of your sister as the competition.  She was good and she won almost anything.  And she was smug about it, especially to me.  She liked to rub it in my face. At least that’s how I felt.  I decided it was best just to avoid her.”

“She knew,” Fisher confirmed. “By her senior year, she barely mentioned you anymore.  She went out with a few guys from her school, but nothing stuck.  Then sis left for college.  I think she was seeing someone for a little over a year, but again, nothing came of that.  But shortly after coming back home last spring, do you know what was one of the first things Gwen asked me?”

I shook my head.

‘Do you think Lance Walsh still hangs out at the Dice & Deck?’”

“What are you guys talking about?” Gwen’s voice came from the door and I wondered how long she had been there.  I must have looked worried, because Fisher redirected the conversation without missing a beat.

“Lance was teaching me about Andromeda Factions.” He winked at me for reassurance before continuing our feigned conversation.  “You said there was that really bad card?”

“Uh . . . Um . . . You mean the ‘Black Hole’,” I said, following Fisher’s lead and trying to sound natural.

“Is that all you want to talk about?” Gwen said as she sat on the side of the bed.  Her leather jacket was gone and she had let her hair down. 

“How often to get to talk with an expert?” Fisher asked, even though he had no way of knowing if I deserved that title.

The three of us sat in the bedroom for neary a half an hour as Fisher and I talked about collectible card games and Gwen listened, jumping in whenever she had something to add. Our eyes met occasionally, and she would smile at me, glad that I was willing to take time with her brother.  When we were done, Fisher and I made plans to meet over the next couple of weeks when I could bring my cards and we would play. I said goodbye and Gwen led me back out to the living room.

“So, what do you think?” Gwen asked.

“About Fisher?  He’s a great kid.  I don’t know what I was expecting.  I thought he would seem more . . . sickly?”

“He has his ups and downs.  He’s feeling better right now because he had dialysis yesterday. Still, other than getting dressed, I suspect he hasn’t been out of bed all day.  He’s well rested now, but it’ll be different come nine o’just keep feeling worse until Monday.”

I couldn’t stop thinking about her brother told me about high school. I stood for a moment, wondering what to say next.

“Gwen,” I started.  “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” Gwen said, curious.

“I’m really enjoying getting to know you. Thank you for bringing me over and sharing your brother with me for a little while.  These last few weeks have made me realize how stupid I was back in high school and what I missed out on by avoiding you.”

“I was a different person back then,” Gwen said.

“We both were,” I admitted. “But you were kind and helpful to any new kids who came through that door.  You were . . . are honest and trustworthy. The type of person that makes me want to buy them coffee.” Gwen smiled at that. “And I guess that’s why I got so upset last week.  It wasn’t because of whose game would eventually be chosen.  It was because I thought that everything you were, what I wanted you to be, was a lie.”

Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but I held up my hand to stop her.

“I know. I know. Besides that being extreme and an overreaction, what’s more important is that the truth is, you were being exactly those things, making sure your brother was in good hands and taken care of.

“To be honest, I was jealous this morning of Mark.  He was getting to spend the time with you that I wished I was.  Part of me wanted that coffee to fall . . . to break up the game. Luckily, I came to my senses.  I knew doing nothing was wrong, and worse, what it would mean for you.  Embarrassment aside, Mark would probably have been really mad at you.  I don’t want anyone being mad at you.”

I took a deep breath to stop myself from rambling.

“I think what I’m trying to say is, I really like you, Gwen. I want to continue being your friend . . . and possibly, something more.”

I looked away before finishing.  This was the moment.  I didn’t want to look. I wanted to hold off the rejection as long as possible.

When Gwen didn’t respond, I looked up.  She was smiling and her brown eyes were bright.  After the briefest of moments, she closed her eyes and leaned into me as her lips softened. Of all the possibilities that had gone through my mind, a kiss was not one of them.  But it certainly wasn’t unwanted.  I leaned in, as well, as Gwen and I . . .

“I’m getting a soda from the fridge.  You two want anything?”

Gwen and I immediately backed away and straighten up at the sound of Fisher’s voice. Gwen’s brother was passing through the living on his way to the kitchen. I looked toward the door, ceiling, anywhere but Gwen or Fisher.

“Thanks, but we’re okay,,” Gwen answered, even though Fisher was already out of the room.

She looked at me, face red but smiling. Giggling, she grabbed my hand and pulled me out the front door. Outside, once the door was closed, all we could do was laugh.

<I had to get in the proverbial “Hallmark Interrupted Kiss.”>

“Do you think he got any ideas?” I asked.

“That depends. Were you asking me to be your girlfriend?” Gwen waited for my answer with a conspiratorial smile.

“Well . . . um,” I stuttered.  “I didn’t exactly say ‘girlfriend’.  But, yeah. I . . . I guess so.”

“Well then, we better make sure he has the right idea.”

Without hesitation, Gwen reached around and pulled me close.  In response, I wrapped my arms around her waist as we kissed.  Nothing prepared me for this, and it felt wonderful.  We lingered in our embrace, neither wanting to stop.

Eventually, we parted and looked in each other eyes.  All I saw was joy, and I hoped she saw the same.

Suddenly, I had a sensation.  A sensation that we were being watched.  I looked over and saw an older couple standing a few feet away and watching us.  The man was large, with dark hair and a salt-and-pepper colored beard.  The woman next to him stood nearly a foot shorter. Her shoulder-length hair was greying, but you could still see traces of the auburn that had been passed down to her daughter.

I pulled myself away and faced them, jumping to attention like a soldier.

“Uh, hello, Mr. and Mrs. Anders,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“Hello,” the man said, a question in his voice. “Gwen, dear, would you care to introduce us to this nice young man?” Her father’s emphasis on the word ‘nice’ made it obvious that this was more an expectation as opposed to an assumed fact.

“Mom. Dad.  This is Lance Walsh.,”  Gwen introduced, grasping my hand in hers and pressing up close. 

Then, gazing at me adoringly, she announced,  “He’s my boyfriend!”

===============
The result of the game . . .

If you have 5 or more Potential…

It’s out there. Now they know. For several heartbeats you are sure you’ve ruined everything, but then... your Rival accepts your confession?! What do they do and say? What challenges will you face together, now that you’ve done the impossible?

(Read the Afterpost here.)
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1 Cor. 13:4-7,13

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Help! I Have A Crush On My Rival!?: Prompts 16 & 17

(Read the previous prompt here.)

Prompt 16 - The Redo:

My movement choices are to go left or go down. Again, I’ll go left.

Card Draw: 6 of Spades (black)  This is the second black 6, which may or may not affect potential.  Things looked like they were about to be getting better for Gwen and Lance, and all my story ideas were positive moving forward.  Let’s see what wrench this throws into my plans.

Prompt: Your Rival’s previous act of pettiness has been eating at you (the 6 of clubs in Prompt 3) and you finally can’t help but mention it to your Rival. Their response is dismissive and hurtful. …Or is it? If it surprises you, don’t lose a Potential.

This isn’t too bad.  I actually had a call back in mind to that coffee event. I always thought of it as a positive outcome, but based on this description, we’ll have to see what happens, perhaps bring in some solo tools. I’ll hold off on determining the effect on Potential until after I write the scene.

*     *     *

<How does Lance initiate contact? (d8) 1-4:contacts Gwen by text  5-7: waits till he gets to the store  8: Asks for Morgan’s help  Roll= 3>

RGPSolo.com Oracle: Does Gwen respond? (50/50): Yes

*    *    *

I just realized something.  I now had Gwen’s phone number! I had power of access to her whenever I wanted.

No, not like in a stalky way.  I wasn’t planning on harassing  her, and I had no intention of calling her every minute of every day, like a needy puppy.  Truth be told, every time I call someone unexpected, I wonder if I’m bothering them. I certainly don’t want Gwen to be annoyed with me. But having her number, and she having mine for that matter, meant if we had any legitimate need to get in touch with other, we could without having to wait till Saturday.

It was Friday night. I decided to try and correct my error from several weeks ago.  So I texted her.

<Texts on a Cell Phone>

Lance: Hello, Gwen. This Lance. Please pick one from each group.
Lance: <coffee cup emoji> Regular or Decaf?
Lance: <cow emoji> Creamer, Oatmilk, nothing?
Lance: Splenda, Stevia, Swt&Lo, Equal, nothing?
Lance: Flavors?
Lance: Anything else?

It was a lot and I was afraid I wouldn’t get it all typed out before she responded. That probably wouldn’t have been a problem, but I wanted to give my full presentation without interruptions.

Then, I waited . . . And waited.

Nothing.  No response.  No big deal, I thought.  Maybe she’s out at a movie, or she’s doing something with her family and decided to turn her phone off to avoid disruptions. After a while, I decided to go about my business.  When Gwen sees the message, she’ll respond.

But she didn’t, and I climbed into bed wondering if I had done something wrong.

The next morning, I saw that Gwen had responded.  I never heard the ding.  She must have texted while my “do not disturb” was still on.

<Texts on a cell phone>

Gwen: Sry. Just saw this. Were u asking to pick up coffee for me?
Gwen: Thx, but not necessary. See you at the D&D.

Dismissed! I can’t seem to catch a break with Gwen and coffee, can I?  She does realize I’m trying to offer her a friendly gesture, doesn’t she? I can’t believe she would just brush it off so easily, especially after what she told me on the phone.  Part of me is telling me to just let it go.  But I would really like to know what is going on.

<At this point, except for the prompt’s direction, I’m not sure why Gwen would not accept Lance’s offer.  Let’s start with an rpgsolo oracle question:

The only indication Gwen likes coffee is Lance’s phone conversation with Art in Prompt 3.  Does Gwen actually like coffee on a regular basis? (Likely) Yes, and . . . She picked up a cup on the way in to the store.

Interesting.  There are a few ways this can go.>

When I walked into the “Dice & Deck,” I saw Gwen was already there .  .  . and she had a paper cup in her hand sporting the JavaBeans logo.

“So, you do like coffee,” I noted as I walked up to her.

“I’m not addicted to it or anything, like my dad,” she said. “But I definitely enjoy it.”

“Do you remember last month when I brought you that latte, and you refused it?  I was a little hurt because I was trying to make up for saying some dumb stuff to you about your game and the Holiday Bowl, but your reason about being diabetic made sense.  So, I tried last night to make amends again, this time making sure I got what you wanted. But you blew me off again. I was thinking that maybe you just didn’t like coffee, except I walk in and see you with this.  What’s the deal, Gwen?”

“Nothing’s the ‘deal’,” Gwen insisted. “I just don’t want you to think you have to buy me coffee every time you do something I don’t like.”

“Every time? I’ve yet to buy you coffee once! At least one you’ve wanted.”

“And you don’t have to.  Like I told you, I just want to be your friend. That’s enough.”

All she wants to be is my friend?

“Gwen!” Another voice suddenly broke in.  “Look! It came this week!”

Mark was standing behind Gwen, excitedly holding up a copy of OverPush, an expansion for the game A Bunch of Scales. It was so new, it was still enclosed in its shrink wrap.

“Cool!” Gwen exclaimed, seeing the box.

“I’m ready to play if you are,” Mark offered.

“Of course! I’ll talk to you later, Lance. Okay?”

I didn’t feel “okay” about it, but I never got to say so because she was already across the room with Mark, finding an empty table.
==========
I wasn’t sure where this scene was heading, so around the halfway point, I pulled the card for the next scene to see if it gave me any direction, which it did.  As Lance was definitely not happy with this outcome, I will reduce Potential by one, giving me a total of 5.  More of Lance’s reaction will be revealed in the next prompt.

*     *     *

Prompt 17 - The Cup:

As previously mentioned, this card was pulled during the previous scene.  Rolling a d6 to determine the direction of my next pull. Even: Move left  Odd: Move down  Roll: 3 - Down

Card Draw: 4 of Spades (black)  This is the second black 4, which may or may not affect potential. 

Prompt: You have a golden opportunity to embarrass your Rival in front of those people they were so keen to impress. Do you take it? If you resist, don’t lose a Potential and instead describe why you have decided to take the higher road.

A determination of change in potential will have to wait until the end.

*    *    *

What the hell!? Doesn’t Gwen know I’m dying here?  She bears her soul to me about wanting to be my friend. I make a grand gesture . . .  medium one, at least . . .  by offering to buy her coffee, and she acts as though it’s nothing.  Nothing! Explaining it by saying she only wants to be friends. Who does she think she is?

And since when can Mark just sweep her away with a shiny new game?  Didn’t he see Gwen was talking to me?.  Not him.  Me! Mark needs to show me some more respect. I’m a board member for Knizia’s sake!

After finding a table, Mark unwrapped the OverPull expansion and added it to his original A Bunch of Scales game. Neoprene player mats, stacks of chips, decks of cards, and dice, dice, and more dice covered the table. Adding the forty dollar expansion, Mark’s entire Scales collection had to be well over $200. And what he had on the table was only a portion.  The rest was still in the box, well maintained I might add, resting in a chair. 

As the two played, Gwen would occasionally take a sip of her coffee, each time placing it down closer to the edge of the table.  In fact, it currently appeared to be slightly hanging over the edge . . . directly above the open Bunch of Scales box!  It wouldn’t take much for it to fall over, the plastic lid coming undone once it hit the box, sending coffee everywhere.  Cards would be ruined.  Player mats would be stained. Gwen would be embarrassed. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mark wanted nothing more to do with her after that.  Come to think of it, he would probably demand that Gwen pay for a new game to replace the one she destroyed. Serves her right, after blowing me off. I can’t wait to see it happen.

Gwen reached for some dice, coming within inches of her cup.  Just a little closer.

A moment later, while adjusting her cards, her fingers brushed against the paper container.  Almost.

Gwen rolled a die that was about to fall off the table, right next to the teetering cup.  Immediately, she reached to stop it from flying off the table and . . .

I grabbed the cup right before Gwen’s hand hit it.

She looked up at me.  I had just saved her from public humiliation, however, her inner embarrassment over what almost happened was clear to me.

“Thank you,” she barely whispered, reaching out for her cup.

“I . . . I didn’t want Mark’s game to get ruined,” I said, handing it back to her. 

Gwen’s eyes expressed her gratitude and indebtedness. She understood my true intentions.

“I think Erik’s setting up some demonstration games of Andromeda Factions,” I said.  “I better get over there to help. It’s for my game campaign and all.”

“Yeah, you should do that,” Gwen agreed. “Talk to you later?”

“Of course,” I said as I turned to find Erik.

Before I got too far, I called over my shoulder.  “Careful with that coffee. I don’t want to have to buy you another one.”

Gwen smiled and I think I saw her blush.

<I don’t lose a Potential because I made the right choice, and I hope it’s obvious why.>

(Read the next prompt here.)

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Help! I Have A Crush On My Rival!?: Prompts 14 & 15

(Read the previous prompts here.)

Prompt 14 - The Lunch:

Roll a die to determine direction.  Result is go up.

Card Draw: 9 of Spades (black)  Because it is the other black nine, we have to use the second prompt.

Prompt: You and your Rival have to face the consequences of how bad your collaboration went before. How do you deal with them? If the two of you manage to successfully clean up the mess without letting your conflict make it worse, don’t lose a Potential.

I’m going to have to wait till the end of this scene to determine if I lose any potential.

*    *    *

<At the end of the last prompt, Lance was leaving the Dice & Deck.  I’ll ask the next couple of questions using the oracle at RPGsolo.

Does Gwen see me leave the Dice & Deck? (I’m going to say Likely, for a couple of reasons. 1) It’s not a huge store, and the gaming group is primarily collected in one area.  It is very likely that any person would notice someone coming or going even if they weren’t paying close attention.  2. While I want to honor the randomness of this scene, I’ve already been brainstorming and would prefer that it happen immediately  Therefore, I will influence the oracle by nudging it in my favor.): Yes.

Does Lance make it into his car? (50/50): Yes.>

*     *     *

Shoot!  Gwen must’ve seen me leave because I noticed her in my rearview walking across the parking lot, calling my name.  If only I could get out of there fast.  If asked, I could always say I didn’t see her.  I turned the key and glanced in my mirror before backing out, only to see Gwen standing immediately behind my car.  She must’ve run the last several yards. I had to admit, she has guts.  Unfortunately, I parked along the curb, meaning I couldn’t move forward.  With her blocking me from backing out, I was trapped.

“Where are you going?” Gwen called out.  My window was already down -- crappy air conditioning -- so I heard her clearly.

“Home,” I called.

“Why? Are you done asking for votes?”

“I’ve talked to everyone I need to talk to.”

“Don’t you want to at least play some games?  Turn off the car so we can talk.”

I knew she wasn’t going to leave until I gave her an explanation, so I did as she asked and turned off the car.  Once Gwen was sure I wasn’t going anywhere, she stepped around and approached the window.

“What’s up with you?” She asked.  “It’s barely eleven. You never leave this early.”

“I’m just not feeling it today. I think I’d rather get some other things done.”

Gwen looks at me quizzically. “Is everyone just not interested in Andromeda Factions?” She said, fishing for a reason as to why I was leaving so early.

“It’s what I should have expected,” I said, hoping to give a reason she would accept. “The people who already play, like it.  The others . . . eh.”

“Don’t give up,” she encouraged. “ I thought you were really excited about having your game featured.”

I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“What’s the point!” I exclaimed in frustration.  “I’m not rich!  I play by the rules!  Apparently, that means I don’t have a chance.”

Gwen stared at me, confused. “Rich?  Playing by the rules?  What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I am talking about!”

“No!  I don’t!”

“Unlike you, I can’t . . . I won’t buy people's votes!”

The rapid change of expressions that came across Gwen’s face was dizzying.  First, it was sheer bewilderment. Then it switched to anger, but for only a moment before turning into steadfast resolve.  She scanned the area around the “Dice & Deck,” then ordered me out of my car.

“What?”

“I said, get out of the car!” Gwen reached in through my window to flick the lock. Then grabbed the handle and pulled the car door open.  I shrunk back from what I perceived was an attack when she reached in and yanked me out by the arm.

“What the . . . “ I started.

“Burgers or chicken?” She asked with aggression..

“Huh?”

She waved her hand, pointing at two nearby businesses: Sand-Which? and Featherless, two poorly-named but popular fast food restaurants.

“Burgers or chicken!” Gwen repeated, her piercing brown eyes demanding an answer. 

“Uh, burgers?” I admit. I was a little scared.

“Okay, now get in my car!”

Gwen, having never let go of my arm, pulled me to her vehicle several spaces away.

*       *      *

“I thought you wanted a burger?”

I looked up at Gwen’s question as I dunked my Chicken Chunk in a container of barbecue sauce. 

“Oh, this?” I asked, wiggling the Chunk in my hand for emphasis.  “I guess I changed my mind.”

“You know, Featherless has better chicken.  We could've gone there.”

“Forgive me,” I said defensively. “I’ve never been kidnapped before.  I had to make a snap decision. I guess I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Gwen rolled her eyes.  “I didn’t kidnap you.”

“You didn’t?  You dragged me to your car without telling me what you were doing. Then you wouldn’t speak to me the whole way over here, leaving me to think the worst.”

“Do kidnapper’s buy you a Sand-Which? Chicken Chunk Deluxe Meal?” Gwen said, trying to get me to see reason.

“Maybe that’s how you lure in your victims?”

“Stop joking, Lance!”

I felt like a chastened child under her admonishing stare.  Those eyes.

“When I first heard you say you thought I was rigging the election,” Gwen explained, “I was shocked.  Then, I was pissed!  I thought, ‘the heck with you! I’m done!’ and was about to walk away.  But I didn’t, Lance.  I lost your friendship once, and I wasn’t about to lose it again.  At least, not without trying.  So I’m here, buying you lunch, and having a serious talk.  Why in the world would you think I was buying peoples votes?”

Lost my friendship?  When were we ever friends?

“I heard you talking to Morgan earlier,” I explained. “I heard her say you could count on her vote and that she would do anything for you. That’s when you told her you would get her her money later.  To Morgan’s credit, she did try to refuse, but you insisted.  You know, ‘A promise is a promise.’”

“That’s what this is all about?” Gwen said.  “Are you sure you heard us mentioned the vote?”

I considered my answer as I finished another chicken chunk.  “I’m pretty sure I did.”

“No!  You didn’t!” Gwen was annoyed.  I could almost see the steam shooting out of her ears. “Morgan was agreeing to come over and sit with Fisher while my father was at work and I had to take my mother to a medical appointment. Idiot! She does that sometimes when Fisher is not feeling well enough to be left alone. And, yes, she gets paid for that.”

“Sorry,” I apologized.  “I didn’t . . .”

“Why didn’t you ask me?  Or better, yet.  Why didn’t you trust me?! You know about my faith.  You know who I am. At least I thought you did.  Why in the world would I pay for votes?  When have you seen me do anything underhanded or sneaky.”

“The ‘Extermo Tent’?” I replied hesitantly. 

The whole restaurant turned as Gwen slammed her palms down on the table.  “That stupid card game! You still hung up on that?  I was a kid, Lance! Sometimes bratty, but still a little kid!.  How long are you going to judge me for being a kid?”

She dropped her face in her hand and took some deep breaths to calm down.  I wisely chose to remain silent.  Once calm, she raised her face.

“Just . . . just finish your meal and we can go.”

“I’m sorry.  I . . .”

“I don’t want to talk anymore.  Just eat.”

She unenthusiastically bit on a fry as we finished our lunch in silence.

*        *        *

I made a rol on my reaction table to see how Gwen would respond when Lance accused her of bribery.  The table is really for determining an opponent's reaction upon meeting, but would work in this situation with a little interpretation.  Roll: 4 Hostile.  Not great, but not the absolute worst.  Basically, I decided she’d be mad, hurt, and not ready for an apology, but wouldn’t storm off in a huff., leaving Lance stranded in the restaurant.

I would say that goes down as a loss of one potential.  That brings the total to 4.

*     *     *

Prompt 15 - The Call:

I can go left or down.  I’ll go left.

Card Draw: 2 of Diamonds (red)  Add 2 Potential: 6 Potential total. This is another second card with the same number and color.

Prompt: Some time has passed since you and your Rival had to team up. One of you admits a little fondness for that time. Which of you is it? When is a calm enough time for this to slip out?

The original red 2 (the 2 of hearts) referred to the upcoming Holiday Bowl.  Since that is still in progress, I don’t think this prompt really refers to this collaboration. Instead, I think the time being referenced is much, much earlier.

This also marks half the cards revealed. Based on my previous decision, that means the next Joker will certainly end the game instead of triggering a reshuffle.

*     *      *

<Who initiates contact?  (d6 - Even: Lance; Odd: Gwen) 5 Odd-Gwen>

<Texts on a Cell Phone>
Unknown Texter: Lance. Can I give Gwen ur #?
Lance: ??
Lance: Who is this?
Unknown Texter: Morgan.
Lance: How’d u get this #?
Morgan: I have my ways. <halo emoji><laughing eyes closed emoji>
Lance: <Vampire emoji>
Morgan: HEY! I’m trying to do you a favor. I can just tell her ur not interested.
Lance: NO NO She can have it.
Lance: Why?
Morgan: She wants to call u.
Lance: Why?
Morgan: U tell me. What’s up with U 2?
Lance: Nothing. We’re just friends.
Morgan: With benefits? <kissyface emoji>
Lance: <red angry face emoji>
Morgan: JK
Morgan: Geez. I know Gwen wouldn’t do that.
Lance: What does she want to talk to me about?
Morgan: No <lightbulb emoji>. She’ll call you later. Bye.
Lance: Thx.
Lance: AND FORGET YOU HAVE THIS #!
Morgan: <monkey speak no evil emoji><fingers crossed emoji><halo emoji>
Lance: MORGAN!!!!!!!!

*          *          *

Silly me.  I thought later meant in ten or twenty minutes.  I wanted to be available when Gwen called,  , so I just laid my phone next to me and waited.

And waited . . .

And waited . . .

A couple of hours went by without hearing from her. Eventually, I gave up and got ready for bed. Wouldn’t you know it, right as I was tucked comfortable under my covers, the phone rang..

“Hello?”

“Hey, Lance.  It’s Gwen. I hope it’s not too late.”

“Not at all,” I said, and it wasn’t a lie.  Sure, I was in bed, but I much preferred speaking with Gwen right now over sleep.  “You sound tired. Would you rather call back tomorrow.”

“I’m fine.  It’s probably the wine. Morgan hung around a while, and we shared a bottle. I think I had the bigger half.” There was a slight chuckle in her voice and I thought she might be a little tipsy.  “Before we knew it, it was nearly 11. Don’t be mad at her. I was really pressuring her to get me your number. She didn’t want to, but I was pretty relentless.”

“I just want to know how she got it,” I admitted. “Does she do that a lot?”

“Hack people’s phone numbers?”

“No. Come over to watch Fisher.”

“Oh, yeah.  Whenever there’s a time he’s not comfortable being left alone, I ask her to sit with him.  Believe it or not, she enjoys it.  They play games, maybe watch a movie.  I bet they could talk for hours.  To be honest, I think Fisher has a crush on Morgan.”

“Does Morgan feel the same?” I asked, curious as to what Morgan got out of the relationship.

“Oh, no,” Gwen quickly assured me.  “She thinks of him more like as a good friend, something like a brother. I mean, she has a blast . . . and the pay doesn’t hurt . . . but I think she’s careful not to get too involved because of his condition. She’s never told me that, of course, but I can understand why she wouldn’t want to get serious with someone who . . . who might not be around for you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, realizing the conversation might be bringing up some strong emotions.

“It’s okay.  It’s something we deal with.  Anyway, I’m just glad Morgan’s willing to help out.  It’s comforting to know Fisher is with someone I trust, and has fun with.  Lance, I wanted to explain about Saturday.”

“You did, and I admit it.  I was too hasty. I should have asked you,” I said quickly, knowing that I probably wouldn’t have done anything different, but hoping to salvage what I could of our relationship.

“Thanks,” Gwen said. “But there’s more.  I want you know why I got so mad.”

This was getting confusing.  I thought I knew why she was mad.

“I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up,” Gwen explained.  “Not a surprise. Who wants to be friends with the fat girl.”

“You weren’t fat,” I assured her.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to say that just to be nice.  You didn’t know me in middle school.”

I wasn’t just being nice. I meant it. But before I could tell her, she continued.

“Then, when I was in eighth grade, Fisher returned to public school.  He is only two years younger than me, so we went to the same middle school for the next year.  I spent all my free time making sure Fisher was okay.  That he had no trouble getting around and no one picked on him or teased him.  Needless to say, I wasn’t winning any popularity contests.

“For most of my childhood, our family’s focus was on Fisher, so when high school came around, my parents practically insisted that I find something to do that was an interest to me.  I told them I was fine, but they nearly forced me to come to the “Dice & Deck,” knowing that Fisher and I played a lot of board games. They thought it would be good for me to socialize with other kids with similar interests.  To be sure I went, they drove me there that first day.

“I don’t know if you remember, but I was nervous as shit. Sorry,” Gwen apologized for her language, “But the word ‘nervous’ alone doesn’t begin to describe how I felt.  I knew no one. I had no idea what to do. But you asked me if I wanted to play a game. A boy, who didn’t know me, was talking to me.  It’s embarrassing to say now, Lance, but I thought I was in heaven.”

I didn’t know what to say.  I was just being nice, something I’d done with tens, if not hundreds, of other newcomers before and since. All I meant to express was “Welcome to our group,” but it obviously meant more to her.

“When you won,” Gwen continued, “My greatest fear was that you might think I wasn’t very good and not want to play with me anymore. I wasn’t a challenge.”

“You’re crazy if you think that,” I said, knowing almost immediately that I was being too blunt. “I mean, you did really well for someone who didn’t know the game.”

“Maybe, but still, I went home and pulled up every video and strategy guide I could find about Turf Wars. I didn’t want to look like a loser.”

“You accomplished that,” I admitted. “In fact, after you won, you called me a beginner.”

“It was supposed to be a joke,” she told me.

“Well, it hurt.”

Gwen didn’t speak for several moments.  “I didn’t know.  I guess that why you stopped playing with me after a while.”

“I stopped playing because you kept beating me. Who wants to lose all the time?”

She was silent again.

“That was my mistake, Lance. I only wanted to be your friend. I didn’t know being good at games would drive you away.”

When I didn’t respond, she continued.

“What hurt me the most last Saturday was when you brought up your Turf Wars card. It’s not because I thought you were wrong.  It’s because you were absolutely right. You were so smug and sure of yourself back then, I wanted to teach you a lesson. When I saw you carelessly drop your card, I thought, ‘let’s see how good he is without it.’ I wanted you to suffer.

“But, I also wanted to be the hero. I thought if I found your card, you would . . . well, if I’m being honest . . . you might love me. Stupid, I know.  So, when you spit in my face, my world was shattered. You made it obvious that you wanted nothing to do with me. The person who once showed some kindness to me now thought I was a horrible person. And it was all my fault. My prank destroyed any chance of the friendship I was hoping for.

“When you brought that up during our talk, I realized it was happening again. That prank could still destroy our relationship. I got mad at you, when really, I’m the one to blame.”

“No, you’re not,” I assured her. “I’m the one who jumped to conclusions.”

“Because you knew that I didn’t play fair.”

“That was then, Gwen.  Like you said, we were kids.  That’s not you now.”

I waited for a response, and there was none. I lay in my bed, listening to the silence transmitting between our phones.

“Gwen.  You still there.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Let’s start over. Saturday?”

“Do you think it’s worth it?

“It is to me.”

More silence.

“It’s late,” Gwen said.  “And I’ve had too much wine. Saturday, maybe.”

“Saturday,” I agreed, and hung up.

Now, if only I could keep from messing it up this time.

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(Read the next prompt here.)

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