Page 13 of Playing For Keeps

“Nope,” he said, enunciating the “P” so it popped when he said it. “I haven’t touched a paddle since I was a freshman in high school at a friend’s basement birthday party.”

“Well, then I might have some more experience. Or at least some more recent experience. One of my brothers got a table when he moved out after college. So, it’s been this decade at least.” Farren’s laugh was warm, soothing the last of the nerves bouncing around inside him. Her brown eyes were alight, face open and happy. Something within seemed to give way, melting under her warmth.

“I remember you saying you were one of seven. Seems like a lot to deal with in one house.” Sebastian found himself wanting to know more about her, more about where she came from.

“Heaven help my mother. They still live on the land we grew up on—a couple of acres outside a small New England town. When I came along, my mom was already drowning in kids. But they’re Catholic, so…” Farren shrugged as if it explained everything. Sebastian couldn’t relate. His parents were older, born on the tail-end of boomers, and very much flower children in their youth. Religion wasn’t ever prominent in their household.

“My folks are still out in Ohio. Like I mentioned last week, it was only the three of us growing up. They hadn’t really planned on kids, especially not since my mom was nearly forty by the time she had me, but oh well.” It wasn't ideal, for any of them.

His parents were often caught up in their own world, Sebastian feeling like an outsider, so different from them and what they wanted for him. Where they flowed free, he was rigid. Where they occupied themselves with fleeting moments, Sebastian kept his gaze turned forward on his aspirations.

“Do you visit them often?” she asked, and part of him wished she could take it back. There never was an easy way to answer it. To tell her he’d avoided home for ages. They didn’t like to wander over to the city, content with their little slice of perfect impermanence, and Sebastian had to work. All the time now.

Without religion, there was little need for Christmas. His parents didn’t adhere to the national decree that families had to spend Thanksgiving together, always quick to point out it was a colonialist holiday erasing the suffering the invaders wrought on the native population at the time.

Anyone who met his parents would probably have loved them, called them woke or whatever the word was these days for people that actually cared about others. He carried those values with him, but it was a quiet belief. Where they protested loudly, Sebastian merely boycotted. Liberal but not loud about it. His tangent ran a little too long in his mind, and Farren tilted her head as she waited for his response, a little amused smile on her face as if she could tell he’d been overthinking her question.

“No, it’s uh… it’s been a while. You?” He cleared his throat uncomfortably, taking a swig of ice water to drown down the guilt sitting on his vocal cords.

“Not really. Most of my family stuck around the area, and my youngest sibling still lives at home, but I kind of wandered over this way and don’t go back except for the holidays.”

“What brought you over this way? It seems a decent distance from wherever you grew up in New England.” He couldn’t talk though, since Ohio was probably just as far.

Her cheeks pinked up, the tips of her ears that he could see peeking through her hair doing the same. The red flushed out some of her freckles, and his curiosity piqued at her response.

“I uh—” She swallowed and rolled her eyes. “I followed a guy out here. Not that it lasted very long. But I’d met Corinne in the meantime, and she convinced me to make the city my own. So, I stayed. It’s been almost five years now.”

“You and Corinne obviously remained close, even if the guy didn’t work out.”

“Yeah, she’s my best friend. I’ve crashed on her couch too many times to count, and I’m her daughter’s godmother… which pissed off her mother-in-law, but that wasn’t hard to do.” Farren laughed at the statement, and Sebastian remembered bits of their conversation in line, her friend complaining about her mother-in-law.

“Sounds nice though, having people.” Sebastian didn’t think before he said it, but should have because her expression let him know she’d noticed something in it. Her mouth drew together in concern, her lips thinning slightly.

“Do you?” she started, worrying her lip between her teeth for a second before she added, “Have people, I mean?”

And what could he say? How could he explain it was just him, his bitterness, work, and little else?

He shrugged, his mouth twisting into a little rueful smile.

“Sebastian…” So much wrapped into his name, so much he wanted to avoid, even more he yearned to unpack. The way she said his name, the way it did things to him.

It had been ages since someone called him that; his mom still did in phone calls, but no one outside of Ohio knew him as anything other than Ian. He still didn’t understand why he’d volunteered it that day, or why it wound something up inside him that felt spring-loaded when it left her lips.

The server saved him from having to answer the question in her eyes. They both placed their pizza orders, the moment gone—thankfully.

But it made him wonder what it would be like to have “people?” What it would be like if she was his person?

Farren couldn’t deny she’d been disappointed on Friday. Not in him. Not really. But when the text came through, letting her know he wouldn’t make it to game night, some spark of excitement for the evening dimmed. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter. It was better this way. Farren tended to jump into things too quickly—and out again with just as much speed. Perhaps this time, she’d spare herself the little heartache and they’d leave it at a great evening between strangers, a fun story for the future.

Then Sebastian sent a message asking to make it up to her, and it took a few hours to decide what the heck to do. Because she wanted it. Because it was a little scary wanting something. Although Farren had a habit of getting ensconced in things, flitting between them like a butterfly before her wings could be plucked… somehow, she knew this wouldn’t be as easy to disentangle herself from if it went south.

She was getting older. Her friends were all mostly settled. All her older siblings were as well. Even Toby, her younger brother—the one she’d been closest to growing up—was engaged to someone from their hometown. A girl Farren could only picture with braces and muddy brown hair, the way she’d looked when she lived with her parents.

Farren existed between these little spots where she found a temporary home before moving along. But she couldn’t outrun time. It raced toward her with relentless fervor and Sebastian—

Well, everything about Sebastian screamed serious. At least from their first encounter. He seemed to dance along a thin edge, the same graceless walk she’d seen others in this city make. It was bleary eyes, early mornings, and days stretching so long, they gnawed into souls. He had that twinge to him, lonely and whittled down.

And fuck if Farren didn’t respond to it.

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