Page 60 of The Games We Play
Somewhere between Theo’s teasing, Boone’s practical suggestions, Rhodes’s side commentary, and Aspen’s relentless optimism, I found it—that flicker of.
As I looked around the bar top at the chaos of our ideas and the unwavering support in my friends’ eyes, I felt something I hadn’t expected. A fragile, reckless kind of feeling that maybe, just maybe, things in my life would work out for the better.
The last thing I needed?
Penny Hudson—messy, stubborn, brilliant, beautiful Penelope—to be mine.
Not just for tonight.
Not just in memory.
But for good.
Forever.
17
PENNY
“What do you mean you can’t make it?” I groaned, wedging my phone between my ear and shoulder as I dragged a lumpy, well-loved bean bag across the library’s carpet floor toward the youth section. The thing skipped with every tug, like it was just as overworked as I was.
It was barely ten in the morning—only an hour into our day—and I already felt like I’d run a marathon. My dress stuck to my back from the hustle, and my to-do list kept growing like it had a personal vendetta against me.
Boone was supposed to be my reader for a second-grade field trip, but currently, he was on the other end of the line, claiming he’d “fallen ill.” Total bullshit if you asked me. His cough sounded about as fake as a toddler apologizing after drawing on the books with a marker. Trust me, I knew exactly what that sounded like.
As if that weren’t enough, I had a group of elderly crafters arriving soon to set up for their weekend craft show in one of the rec rooms. I’d promised to help them with tables, chairs, and making sure the hot glue guns didn’t burn down the building.
Oh, and because I apparently hate myself, I also volunteered to man the circulation desk while Crystal—our new hire—took her daughter to the dentist.
One body. Three tasks. No clones in sight.
If someone asked me what superpower I wanted at the moment, I wouldn’t have hesitated—the power to be in multiple places at once.Or maybe to stop time. Either one would do.
I stopped halfway across the lobby, letting the bean bag fall from my hand with a dramaticthud.My chest rose and fell with an exaggerated sigh as I looked up to the ceiling, silently praying for strength, patience, or maybe divine intervention.
“I’m really sorry, Pen,” Boone said through the speaker, followed by another pitiful excuse for a cough.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. “It’s okay,” I muttered, half to him, half to myself. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
We said our goodbyes—him adding one final, theatrical cough—and I slipped my phone into the side pocket of my floral dress.
Ididalways figure it out. When life threw impossible decisions and chaotic days my way, I somehow managed to walk out of them victorious. Flustered, sure. Maybe a little sweaty. But victorious nonetheless.
Still, this morning? This was pushing it.
My mind was spinning, a dizzying carousel of logistics and timelines. There was no room for panic, so I shoved it down and turned on my inner machine.
No more dragging. I heaved the bean bag into my arms and power-walked toward the story circle like I was competing in the library Olympics.
I dropped it in place with another dullwhumpand glanced at my watch. Twenty minutes until the kids started pouring in.
Plenty of time for a breakdown. But instead, I grabbed the hair tie from around my wrist and whipped my mop of chestnut-brown hair into a bun. A few rebellious strands framed my face, but I let them stay. They softened the exhausted edge in my reflection when I caught it in the window.
With a deep breath and a fresh—if totally fake—smile, I made a beeline for the circulation desk. This was the kind of smile you wear not because you feel it, but because people need to see it. That’s what being dependable looked like—showing up, smiling, and pretending everything was fine even when your brain was screaming otherwise.
I’d never been a girl with a lot of strong opinions—at least not about the everyday stuff. What to eat? Didn’t matter. What to do on a date? I was happy just being with someone I cared about.
But ask me whether aliens had been to Earth? Buckle up because I had thoughts.
