Page 10 of On Dancer
“A board game?” I’d been intending to scroll aimlessly on my phone. Not the best use of my time, but an excuse to zone out nevertheless.
“You said you don’t have hobbies, but surely you’ve heard ofOdyssey?” Undeterred by my skepticism, Rudy plopped down next to me on the floor.
“Vaguely.” I waved a hand before pulling a towel from my bag and unfolding the ice packs. “The nerdy game with some cards worth more than my rent?”
“That’s the one.” Rudy beamed at my limited knowledge. “Odysseyjust released a new board game that’s a perfect introduction to the universe and its mechanics for new players, no rare cards or deck building required.”
“I’m not sure?—”
“Come on.” Rudy interrupted me with a pleading look. Those brown eyes with flecks of gold were rather convincing even without the added lip pout. “What else are you going to do with the next half hour?”
“I suppose you can talk me through the rules.” I had already resolved to be nicer to him after our chat the other day, and his puppy-dog expression sealed my fate.
“Thank you for that enthusiastic yes.” Grabbing the pillows he’d brought, he gestured at my leg. “Let’s get you settled.”
“You brought the pillows for me?” I blinked, bemused enough to not protest as he shoved one between my back and the wall.
“I’ve seen you icing on the floor and in the hard, wooden chairs.”
He fussed over me in a way that few dared. Isabella, perhaps, but she was a trained physician. Likewise, my PT team offered scheduled clinical care versus spontaneous caretaking in the way Rudy was. He fluffed the second pillow before handing it to me to arrange under my knee. “There. You deserve to be comfortable.”
“Eh. I’ve iced in worse places.” I didn’t want to let my pleasure at being taken care of show, so I busied myself arranging the ice packs. Meanwhile, Rudy opened the box and set up a playing board between us.
“Now, let’s talk orcs.” He neatly lined up playing pieces along the edge of the colorful board.
“Let’s.” I wasn’t sure I could picture an orc, but Rudy sure was enthusiastic.
“You’re humoring me, but I’ll take it.”
Rudy proceeded to explain the game to me in excruciatingly confusing detail. I hadn’t felt so lost since my first summer intensive as a teen, when the sheer amount of new ballet and theater jargon had made me feel like I was playing catch-up for weeks.
“That’s a lot of rules.” I pursed my lips. I was going to be bad at this, very bad, and I hated being bad at anything.
“It’s simpler than it seems. You’ll see when we start playing.” Rudy clearly didn’t share my worries. He passed me a hand of seven cards. “What was your favorite game as a kid?”
“I can’t say as I had one.” I shrugged, trying to picture the playroom at my parents’ house, which was now a home theater. We hadn’t lacked for toys, but time had been a different story.
“That’s so sad.” Rudy played a card featuring an angry-looking frog and moved his piece forward two spaces on the board.
“Hardly.” I paused to figure out what I was supposed to do. I glanced down at the extra card that outlined what I could do on my turn. Drawing a card was an option, so I did that before continuing, “Besides dance, Isabella and I had a whole schedule of lessons when we were young: horses, soccer, violin, painting.”
“Doesn’t sound like much time for play.” Evidently, I’d missed a step because Rudy advanced my piece for me before taking his own turn. “You had a horse and still chose ballet? How’d ballet class end up winning out?”
“The studio is marginally less drafty than a barn and smells slightly better.” I chuckled. I’d always felt at home in this building in a way I couldn’t put into words, a sentimentality that made me shift against the floor. “In all seriousness, I started ballet because Isabella was doing beginner ballet in kindergarten, and I kept doing the movements along with the class in front of the window. Your mother invited me in, and then we both did the lessons until middle school when Isabella dropped ballet in favor of more horses and lacrosse, and I considered dropping as well.”
“Why didn’t you?” Rudy asked conversationally as he waited for me to take another turn.
I couldn’t draw cards endlessly, so I went for a dice roll, which was a way to attack Rudy. Big mistake. Rudy countered with a roll that easily beat mine. He claimed one of my cards in victory, and I frowned.
“The Nutcrackersaved my ballet future before it even began. I got cast as Clara’s prince.” I narrowed my eyes, but my gaze left my cards to travel back in time twenty years prior. “My first big part. Tavio was the guest Cavalier, along with Irina as the Sugar Plum Fairy. They encouraged me to stick with ballet, apply forsummer intensives, and get serious about my training. I wasn’t convinced until I heard the applause after the first show. For the first time, it seemed like the audience was clapping for me. I was hooked and went home and immediately started looking up the summer programs Tavio and Irina had mentioned.”
“That’s amazing.” Rudy shook his head, short brown hair falling across his forehead. “In middle school, I was mainly committed to my dice collection and various video game consoles, not making career decisions.”
“It’s not a career.” Explaining my worldview and the way my whole paradigm had shifted as a teen to a non-dancer like Rudy was almost impossible.
“Lifestyle. Calling. Avocation. Passion. Any of those work better?” Rudy countered before playing another two cards. “And your move.”
I possessed a card that allowed me to nullify his move, which I did with no small amount of glee.
