Page 32 of A Fool's Game

“I don’t know how any of this works or if I even want any part of it,” I say finally.

“But…” is his infuriating answer.

“But.” I spit the word out, surprising myself with my quick temper. “Yeah. There’s a but. I’m not sure what it is, but it has something to do with her.”

“I get that. She’s pretty great.”

Finally, something we can agree on. “Yeah, she is. But I'venever done anything like this. Never even considered doing something like this.”

Taylor doesn't respond, so I stumble on stupidly. “I thought I’d just show up and see what the deal was, but I’m more confused now than I was before. You and her…and me and her? I don’t get it. I feel like I’m going to fall for her and as soon as I do, you two are going to jump out and laugh and tell me this whole thing was some kind of big joke and I’ll actually be the fool.”

I don’t know if I expect him to admit I’m right or tell me I’m crazy, but he does neither. “The fool? Why’d you phrase it like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You should have said a fool. But you said the fool.”

I huff in annoyance, taking a few steps back into my kitchen and dragging my hand down my face. “I don’t know. I just…I found a card.”

“You found a card,” he repeats slowly.

“Yeah. That first night I met Gem, or the first time as adults, anyway. Christmas. She took me up to some rooftop deck, and I found a card on the ground up there.”

“The Fool.”

His tone catches my attention. It’s like something just clicked into place for him. And here I am, more confused than ever.

“Does that mean something to you?”

He narrows his eyes at me, and I can tell I just went back to being a complete idiot in his book. “You never looked it up?”

I shake my head.

“Why the fuck not?”

Yup, I’m definitely an idiot.

I shrug, suddenly feeling defensive. To be honest, it nevereven crossed my mind. “I got jumped on the way home, and the guys took everything from my pockets. Including the card.”

He’s nodding again. “You two met on Christmas night, coming together as adults after crossing paths as kids. You found a Fool card on the ground, and on the way home you got mugged and they stole it.”

He’s reciting the story as if the answers to the great mystery of life have suddenly been revealed.

“Yeah,” I say again. “And?”

He’s just shaking his head and pulling his jacket off the back of the chair. “See you Tuesday, man.”

“What? No way. Whatever you know, you have to tell me.”

“I don’t have to do shit.”

I try another angle. “Have you ever found a card?”

“I’ve drawn plenty of cards.”

“What was the first one?” I plow forward, feeling like I’m finally onto something.

He pulls on his coat and takes a step toward the door, kneeling once more to accept Doc’s entire body into his lap before looking up at me and answering. “The Magician.”

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