Page 17 of On Dancer
“Relax.” Rudy swung the reusable shopping bags. A package of tortilla chips peeked out of the top of one bag. “You can share credit for my chips and dip and a veggie tray if it makes you feel better, but people will just be happy to see a new face.”
“Fresh competition.” My tone was measured. All eyes would undoubtedly be on me, sizing up my weaknesses, debating how quickly I could be defeated. This was a terrible idea.
“We’re not that vicious.” Rudy chuckled as he led the way down the block. “Actually, you may be one of the most bloodthirsty among us.”
“Why play if not to win?” I asked reasonably, but Rudy only laughed that much harder.
“For fun, Alexander. Fun.” Rudy shook his head at me. He’d paired his older ski-style coat with an absurd knit hat that sparkled in the glow from the street lamp. In my admittedly limited opinion, yarn should be neither furry nor glittery, and somehow Rudy’s hat managed to be both.
“Winningisfun.” That was the entire reason I’d agreed to this plan. Every night we played was a fresh chance to beat Rudy. Even when I didn’t succeed, the rush of trying had me clamoringfor another round. Winning was an even bigger adrenaline rush, and as far as I was concerned, the entire purpose of the game.
“You’re incorrigible.” Rudy sighed like I was truly taxing. In truth, he put up with me much better than most, never cowering from my moods or reputation. “And we’re here.” His voice brightened as he stopped in front of a weathered sign for Top of Your Table Games, a store I hadn’t known existed despite its proximity to the ballet school. However, it looked to have occupied this very corner for decades. Shifting both grocery bags to one hand, Rudy tapped his forehead. “Oh! I forgot to warn you about the cosplayers.”
“The cosplayers?” I frowned. I might need a dictionary for all things geek if I kept hanging around Rudy.
“Players who prefer to game while costumed as various characters from theOdyssey.” Rudy’s tone was extra earnest, a clear bid to convince me the idea wasn’t absurd. “It’s fun. You’ll see.”
“I wear costumes for work. Not recreation.” For all I loved about ballet, stage makeup and costuming were hardly my favorite things. The makeup was thick and hard to wash off, and depending on the production, costume tunics could be heavy and fiddly and require assistance to get on and off.
“Shush. Keep an open mind.” Rudy led me around the back of the shop. The heavy gray emergency exit door swung open to reveal a squat, bearded fellow somewhere around my age who wore a sweatshirt with the store logo. “Troy! How are you?” Rudy offered his usual enthusiastic greeting before motioning at me. “This is Alexander. He’s new, but he’s a killer with my shark deck.”
“Excellent.” Troy’s eyes narrowed like a panther sizing up its prey. He led us to the rear of the store, where folding tables and chairs were set up. “I put the finishing touches on a crow deck today that should match up nicely.”
“Did you get that mythic you wanted for it?” Rudy asked as he set his food offerings on one of the tables along the back wall that was already heaped with various food options, including a small crockpot bubbling away with meatballs inside and a couple of salad-like things. After my steady diet of quasi-healthy frozen meals, my stomach rumbled at the spicy scents mingling in the air.
“Naturally. Took a bit of searching, but the card turned up.” Troy adopted a prideful tone, which undoubtedly meant the card in question was rare and fine jewelry-level expensive. Troy fussed with a stack of paper plates as a younger woman in a full-on scarlet regency ballgown made her way toward us. Troy waved her over for introductions. “Here’s Ari. Ari, this is Alex. He’s?—”
“Alexander,” Rudy corrected before I could.
“Alexander.” Troy’s tone turned long-suffering. “He’s a friend of Rudy’s and a newbie.”
“Welcome. I’ve only been coming for a few months myself.” Ari adjusted her glittery tiara, which sat atop an elaborate updo. Her dress had a wide skirt, undoubtedly supported by layers of fabric not unlike a tutu, and the quality of the ensemble went beyond Halloween costume to something worthy of a royal event. “My girlfriend showed me her empress deck, and the rest was history.”
Ari gestured toward another young woman in similar attire, including a crown and eye patch. They had to be the cosplayers Rudy had mentioned, but luckily, I’d been around enough wardrobe departments to know an appropriate response.
“That’s a fabulous costume. It must have taken hours of work.”
“It did.” Ari beamed. Beside me, Rudy puffed up like I’d done something particularly right. He’d make an excellent stagemother, complete with his not-so-subtle nod of approval as Ari continued, “What hooked you on the game?”
Rudy.That answer, while accurate, wouldn’t do at all. Setting my jaw against the sentiment, I went for an arch tone instead. “I enjoy winning.”
“Don’t we all.” Ari laughed lightly and shoved a paper plate at me. “You need a plate. Irma and Raymond brought whoopie pies. Grab one before they disappear like a ghost deck.”
“A ghost deck?” I hadn’t heard of that mechanic and was instantly intrigued. “How does that work?”
Ari launched into a lengthy explanation while I cautiously filled a plate with what appeared to be the healthiest options, but somehow, one of the whoopie pies did indeed join my collection of carrot sticks, salad, and deli meats. The seasonal confection was worth every calorie. Discussion of deck options carried us through the small talk and snacks portion of the evening before we broke into smaller groups to play. My borrowed shark deck ended up pitted against Troy.
Troy was a crafty player with a sneaky collection of card-swiping moves. He took every ounce of my concentration, so much so that I was startled when Rudy took the chair next to me as we approached the later stages of the match.
“Having fun?” Rudy asked like I wasn’t in a battle for my very life.
“I will be once I win,” I gritted out right as Troy and his blasted army of crows took my last life points with an attack I had no defense for.
“Sorry, mate.” Troy offered me a handshake across the table. “Good game. Want to go again?”
“Absolutely.” I couldn’t reshuffle fast enough, already scheming how to beat him on the second try.
“Careful before you strain something.” Rudy chuckled, a fond sound that made my chest bizarrely tight. Strain. Huh. Ihadn’t thought of my knee once all evening, nor the upcoming performance or my eventual return to the stage in Seattle. Perhaps there was something to this hobby business after all.
