I blink, completely thrown. “Uh…I’m not selling anything. Is Kashvi here?”
“Everyone’s selling something.” He cocks his head and studies me. “Even if it’s themselves.”
My jaw drops and I step to the side to look at the big wooden numbers screwed into the post of their porch. Welp, this is definitely the address Kashvi gave me. I shift away from him, unsure what to do.
“It’s all good!” he says with a laugh. “Just messing withyou.”
“Sanjiv, stop antagonizing our guest! Move!” Sanjiv stumbles out of sight and Kashvi takes his place in the doorway, her hair tousled and smile tight. “Sorry about that. Come in.”
I walk in hesitantly.
“Just ignore my twin. That’s what I do when he’s likethis.”
Sanjiv sidesteps a line of neatly ordered shoes in the entranceway. “No one can ignore me. And I needed to test if she was going to cut it with us.” He rubs his chin. “I’m not convinced yet.”
She rolls her eyes. “Go fill your face with Doritos and let us talk.”
He shrugs and saunters off into the house. “I wanted to get to the door before him, but I was upstairs.” She looks over her shoulder. “He’s not usually that bad, but he’s playing an overly philosophical cleric, and it makes him unbearable when he’s in character. I’m so glad this campaign is almost done.”
She beckons me inside and we sit down in a very formal living room. Her house is amazingly clean. I mean, my house looks like a cardboard box retail store right now since we’re unpacking, but it’s cluttered even at our best. This looks like a showroom.
“How’ve you been?” Kashvi asks.
I’m embarrassed to admit that the closest I’ve gotten to a fun night in Laurelburg is watchingWheel of Fortunewith Mom and Dad. And even they were texting with friends half the show, while I had nothing better to do than solve the “Rhyme Time” puzzle with only one of the vowels.
“Okay,” I tell her. “Happy to be here.” Somewhere in the house, guys are laughing, and it sends a tingle of nerves up my spine. Between Kashvi’s warning from before and Sanjiv’s comment, I’m starting to wonder how well I’m going to fit in. “So, did you say your campaign’s over?”
“After today. We’re wrapping up this afternoon, which is why I thought it would be a good day for you to come over. So you can experience us at full force.”
“Oh.” I try not to let my disappointment show. “Well, thanks for the invitation. It got me out of chores.”
“No problem. And don’t worry—we’re starting up a new campaign soon, so it’s the perfect time to bring in someone new. If you’re up for it.”
Her words ratchet up my nerves further. Why does she keep insinuating that I might not be “up for it”? It’s D&D—what could be so intimidating about that? Unless the other players are jerks. I have all too much experience with that and no interest in joining a new toxic group.
“Let’s gooooo. We’ve got an evil wizard to kill,” Sanjiv complains as he walks into the living room.
The guy who doesn’t like coats follows him in. Today his long hair is down and falls to his shoulders. He’s wearing a marching band shirt and carrying a two-liter of Dr Pepper. “Hey.” He nods. “You’re in my chem class, right? What’sup?”
“Hey,” I say with a wave.
“That’s Mark,” Kashvi says. “You met Sanjiv at the door, and you already know Logan from that first day.”
Ah, he does play with Kashvi! Logan comes in and I wave, trying to be nonchalant so he doesn’t realize how happy I am that he’s part of the game too. Today just got even better.
“Quinn, hey. This is a nice surprise.” His smile sends warmth rushing through me. “I didn’t realize you were friends with Kashvi.”
“It’s good to see you all again,” I say. “Kashvi was nice enough to invite me over today.”
“I thought it’d be fun to have her sit in on the game,” she explains. “She used to play at her old school. Speaking of, we better get downstairs before Sloane comes looking forus.”
I follow as the group heads through the kitchen to the basement stairs, and Logan comes up beside me. “How’s pre-calc going?”
I groan. “Not good. Our unit doesn’t line up at all with my last school, and Mr. Winchester goes over stuff so fast.”
“I’d offer to tutor you, but only if you’re hoping for lower grades than you’re already getting.”
“What an appealing offer,” I reply, though honestly I might be willing to take the low grades in exchange for more time alone with him.