Page 51 of As the Years Pass
Whatever happened between us in the bathroom faded away during the car ride. We didn’t say a word to each other, and the driver hardly spoke, but the tension bled away. Maybe we just needed a moment to breathe. I let us into my house and go right to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.
“Do you want one?” I ask him.
“I thought we’d keep drinking.” He grins.
That’s dangerous.
“If you want to.”
“As long asyouwant to,” he says carefully.
“I’m fine with it. Drunk video-gaming? Hell yeah,” I say confidently, though I’m not so sure it’s a great idea.
He walks over to the counter where I keep the bottles of alcohol while I grab us some glasses. Adam picks up a bottle of whiskey, and we take it into the living room. I set up the video game while he pours us drinks.
“Wow. These graphics are way better than I remember,” Adam says as he goes through the characters.
“When’s the last time you played?”
He shrugs. “The last timeweplayed.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. “Do you ever have fun?”
It was meant to be a joke, but the look on his face tells me it hit hard.
“Sorry,” I say. “I was trying to be funny.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I… never have fun,” he says carefully, clicking on Johnny Cage. I’ve already selected my favorite—Sub-Zero. “Tonight is the most fun I’ve had in years.”
“Come on. That can’t be true. You have fun with your kids all the time.”
“Yeah, but that’s different.” He sounds almost sad, and I hate it.
We fall into silence as we play the game. He loses, over and over again, until I decide to take it easy on him. The excitement on his face when he kills my character is unbelievable. His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Did you let me win?” he asks, his grin falling.
I shake my head. “No.”
His eyes narrow. “You’re lying.”
“I am not. You beat me fair and square.”
I reach for my drink, unable to hold his gaze, but I feel him staring at me still. Finally, he lets it go and we play another match. This time, I try a little harder, but he beats me again.
“Guess you’re just getting better. I haven’t played in a while.”
That’s a lie. I play this game all the time. It’s basically what I spend my time doing when I’m home, other than sleeping.
After four more matches, Adam says, “I’m starving.”
I glance at the clock by the TV. “Nothing delivers at this time.”
“You don’t have any food here?” he asks.
“Uh… no. Not really.”
He groans, falling back into the couch and staring at the ceiling before turning his head toward me. “We could go to my house.”
