Page 2 of Playing Games

“You don’t know everything that’s going on in my life,” I settle for arguing. “None of you does.”

My mom’s face saddens a little, though she does her best to cover it. She’s been fighting for me since the moment I was born through a myriad of huge happenings, including my biological dad leaving when I was just a baby, my being diagnosed on the autism spectrum, and through a rigorous, accelerated academic schedule. And in return, I’ve given her little more emotional connection than a muskrat. And secrets. Lots of secrets.

Winnie Winslow Lancaster deserves better. Especially from her only daughter.

I don’t want to be cold or self-involved or numb to others—all of which I could appear so easily without exercising diligence not to be. Intellectually, I’m advanced, but my social skills and understanding of emotions could always use work.

I clear my throat, picking at the napkin in my lap to distract myself from the burn of awareness in my lungs. “But maybe you’re right, Wes. I’ll take what you’ve said into consideration and try to expand my horizons.”

“Really?” His face lights up, and even my parents’ eyes lift with optimism.

Great. It’s going to be hard to deny all their hopeful faces now.

“Really. I’ll make an effort,” I promise, though I’m not entirely sure what that means yet.

Maybe it starts with this dinner—keeping my head out of academia long enough to genuinely connect with them. Maybeit’s learning to sayyesto things more often, even when it feels uncomfortable. Maybe it’s being willing to change.

I don’t have the answers, but for them, I’m willing to try to figure it out—even if it means being wrong a lot more often.

Saturday, May 17th

Blake

The lights are off, the halls eerily quiet as I tiptoe through Dickson University’s Dragon Stadium. Each step echoes, even though I’m moving as softly as I can, and behind me, Julia Brooks and Ace Kelly follow hand in hand, completely oblivious—as usual—to how ridiculously perfect they are for each other.

They’re both a year younger than me, soon-to-be sophomores, and when I first met Ace last fall, Julia wasn’t far behind. Honestly, I thought they were a couple, and it didn’t take long to figure out so did everyone else on campus. But they’ve insisted time and time again that they’ve been best friends since childhood, nothing more.

Still, the way they’re constantly attached at the hip tells an entirely different story, and I’m always wondering when one of them is going to realize the truth.

The navy blue of the concrete walls makes the already dark space seem even darker, and I try to get a look at their faces to see how they’re feeling about being here, but seeing anything clearly is impossible. I turn forward again, hustling through the maze of pathways that’ll take us to the field.

At the beginning of the year, Ace, Julia, Finn Hayes, Scottie Bardeaux, and I became fast friends, getting into more than our fair share of excitement and trouble. Fights, firsts, parties, and laughter filled our time, until it all changed in April. When Scottie—our good friend and a star Dickson cheerleader—suffered a devastating spinal injury at a competition in Daytona, our group tightened even more, every ounce of our focus shifting to supporting her as she adjusted to the new reality of her paralysis.

For the past month, that focus has been our entire world.

But with spring semester winding down and Scottie adjusting remarkably well—thanks in large part to Finn’s unwavering support—it finally feels like we can breathe again. Tonight, Finn and Scottie are spending time with their families, officially a couple again, as they’re so obviously meant to be. That means Ace, Julia, and I finally feel okay to let loose for the first time in a while.

And there’s no better place to do it than at a Computare Caterva event.

Dickson University’s underground society is always a thrill—a secret mix of risk and adrenaline that guarantees a good time. But it’s terrifying too. One wrong move could land us all in hot water with the university and then some, and I’d certainly have a hell of a lot to lose. A single misstep could cost me my football scholarship and send my future dreams of playing in the pros spiraling down the toilet.

Normally, I’m cautious about my actions, and when it comes to football eligibility, I always follow the rules. I don’t drink, Idon’t do drugs, and knowing what I know now about Double C, I shouldn’t be doing this.

But when the text came through two hours ago, telling us to meet at Dragon Stadium, I wasted no time reaching for my keys.

There’s only one reason I’m not my usual rational self about this…and all the signs point to Lexi Winslow.

This is likely the last Double C event of the year, and with my crush, Lexi, running the show while inching closer to finishing her doctorate—and leaving Dickson University for good—I couldn’t miss it. Even if being here is a risk, it’s a chance I’m willing to take.

She’s a few years older than me—twenty-five to my twenty-one—and I’ve been crushing on her beautiful, endlessly intriguing personality since the first time I laid eyes on her at the start of fall semester. I thought it was a stupid crush, but instead of fading, my feelings have only grown. Her stubbornness and complete avoidance of every advance I throw her way? That just makes me want her more.

After all, a good quarterback goes for the win at every possible opportunity, down to the last second, even when the odds aren’t in his favor.

“Guys,” I call back to Ace and Julia, who’ve stopped for a giggle in the middle of the hall that leads to the locker room. “Hurry up.”

We have five minutes until we’re supposed to be at the meetup location in the south end zone, and I know from experience that the walk from the locker room takes at least half of that. We usedmy code to get in the back entrance door, but I have no idea how the hell the rest of tonight’s attendees are getting in.

Our athletic director implemented pretty strict stadium security two years ago, the year before I came to Dickson, after the team came to practice one Monday to find a goal post missing. Ironically, now that I know about Double C and the brilliant girl who runs it, I can’t help but wonder if she had something to do with it.

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