Page 42 of Between Here and There

A number of mismatched chairs and beanbags are scattered in a circle around an old wooden table that’s been repurposed as the game night centerpiece. It’s piled high with chips, cookies, and bottles of soda, along with an impressive lineup of board games.

Haley strides in from the back, balancing a stack of colorful game boxes in her arms. “Alright, everyone, game night is starting soon, take your seats!” she announces, her voice bright and commanding. Right behind her is Richard, carrying two trays of finger foods that look delicious.

I walk toward a sofa, but something catches my eye. There’s a photo board on the far side of the room. I hadn’t noticed it the last time. It’s a patchwork of memories: smiling faces, silly poses, and snapshots from a life I once knew so well. As I step closer, my gaze lands on a faded photo of me and my dad. I was probably around twelve, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a chessboard between us. My dad’s grin was wide and unguarded, his hand mid-gesture as though explaining his next move.

“See, that’s how I remembered you,” Joshua says behind me. “Short-hair, glasses, braces.”

I blink rapidly, trying to clear the sudden mistiness in my eyes, but it’s too late. He notices.

“What’s wrong?” His tone is gentle, concerned.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, brushing a stray tear away and forcing a small smile. “It’s just… I haven’t thought about my dad in so long. This is where he taught me to play chess. Lily’s was kind of our hangout spot—just like it is for everyone else now.”

I let out a deep sigh, my eyes drifting back to the photo. A wave of nostalgia washes over me, bittersweet and overwhelming. The memories are sharp now—his laughter, his patience as I agonized over every chess move, the way he would ruffle my hair when I finally figured out his strategy.

I didn’t just lose my dad. I lost the version of myself that believed every problem could be solved with a careful strategy and a laugh. Like chess. Maybe that’s why I’ve been trying so hard to prove I can handle things on my own. Maybe I’ve been trying to be the person he’d be proud of if he were still here.

Joshua doesn’t say anything for a moment, but I feel his presence beside me, steady and grounding.

“I wish he were still here,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe… maybe I wouldn’t have to try and be so strong all the time.”

Joshua places a hand lightly on my shoulder. “You’re allowed to miss him,” he says quietly. “And you don’t always have to be strong.”

“Thanks,” I reply. The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tighten, but before I can respond, Haley’s voice cuts through the air like a burst of sunlight.

“Game night officially starts now! Everyone grab a drink and take a seat!”

Joshua gives my shoulder a small squeeze before stepping away. I linger for a beat longer, taking my phone out and snapping a photo of this board, before turning back to join the circle of friends, the laughter and chatter filling the room.

I take a seat between Kate and Joshua. I look up and see Rob and Denise sitting across from us. Oh, great.

“So they’re here,” I whisper to Josh. “We have to be convincing.”

“I can be really convincing.”

“Alright, people,” Haley begins with the enthusiasm of a ringleader. “First up is Truth or Dare Jenga!” She holds up the makeshift tower of blocks with pride. “It’s like regular Jenga, but each block either says ‘truth’ or ‘dare.’ Pull a block, and you have to do whatever’s written on the paper you will take from these bowls.” She holds up two fish bowls with rolled up paper inside. “If you knock over the tower, you must do both the truth and the dare. Simple enough?”

“YES!” Bon screams, her energy radiating through the entire room.

Haley looks around the room like a general surveying her troops. “Great. Let’s go!”

Kate volunteers to go first, and she carefully slides out a block marked ‘dare.’ She picks a folded slip of paper from a nearby bowl and reads it aloud.

“Eat an entire jalapeño.” Kate frowns, her eyes narrowing. “Okay, who thought of these dares?”

“Yours truly,” Haley says, smirking triumphantly. “Lucky for you, we’re at Lily’s, where milk cartons abound.”

“What happens if I don’t wanna do the dare?” Kate asks, holding up the paper like it’s evidence in a court trial.

“You’re free to chicken out,” Haley teases, “but that means you take a penalty sip of the Mystery Shot.” She gestures to a small lineup of glasses filled with ominous liquids in various colors.

Kate groans dramatically but reaches for the jalapeño anyway. “Fine, I’ll do it. But if I cry, Haley, it’s your fault.”

As she bites into the jalapeño, the group erupts in laughter and cheers, everyone leaning in to watch her reaction. Kate’s face flushes immediately, and she fans her mouth frantically.

“Milk!” she croaks, and Richard tosses her a small carton. Kate rips it open, chugging the milk like her life depends on it while the group dissolves into laughter.

Haley, unfazed, pats her sister on the back. “See? That wasn’t so bad. Builds character.”

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