Sometimes I forget about Parker and Brittany’s upbringing. The two of them didn’t have it easy, and they’ve both managed to be successful in life, despite the challenges. I appreciate that about them.
“You took care of Brittany a lot, didn’t you?” Amy asks the question, and I find myself leaning into it, thinking of the letter exchange we’ve started. There’s something special about it … and something forbidden, too. I don’t think Parker would approve in the slightest.
“I did take care of her,” Parker admits. “Our parents worked a lot, so I did the best I could with her. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it.”
“You know what.” Amy hums, grabbing the dice and preparing to roll them. “I think you and Brittany should hang out more often. I don’t think you see her enough. Maybe it would be good for the two of you.”
“Maybe.” Parker shrugs. “She’s busy with work and stuff.”
The dice clatter to the board, and Amy grumbles something under her breath as the amount only totals out to five. “I guess I won’t be going first.”
I grab for them, rolling the two dice and happily nodding at the eleven I manage to get. I then pass them to Parker who rolls a seven. Mia rolls an eight and John rolls a two.
“Wow. Already cursed,” John mutters. “Love that for me.”
“Looks like Wes gets to start.” Parker grunts. “Hopefully, it doesn’t work out for him.”
I roll my eyes at the jab. “Wow, you’re such a supportive friend.”
Less than an hour later, Parker is slamming his hand on the coffee table, making the Monopoly pieces jump. “Pay up, sucker!” he demands, gesturing to his hotel-laden Boardwalk property where my poor little silver car has just landed. I groan dramatically and begin counting out my rapidly dwindling Monopoly money.
Game nights at my apartment always get a little intense, especially when Parker’s competitive streak kicks in. Amy laughs from her spot, sipping her beer and watching us with amusement. Mia winces dramatically every time Parker buys another property, like she can physically feel the money leaving our hands.
The pizza boxes are now empty, the chips are nearly gone, and I’m about to go bankrupt—all signs of a successful Friday night.
“That’s fifteen hundred dollars,” Parker says, holding out his hand. “Fork it over.”
“Highway robbery,” I mutter, slapping the colorful bills into his palm.
“This game is rigged.” Mia sighs.
“You say that every time,” John tells her. “And every time, you still play.”
“It’s called strategy,” Parker counters, sorting the money into neat piles. Even his Monopoly cash has to be organized by denomination. Classic Parker.
Mia reaches for another slice of pizza, frowning when she realizes the box is empty. “Next time, we’re ordering more food. You guys eat like you’ve never seen pizza before.”
“Blame Parker,” John says, taking a swig of his beer. “He’s the one who gets ‘hangry’ during competition.”
“I do not get hangry,” Parker protests, though his expression tells a different story. “I just … require sustenance to maintain peak performance.”
“That’s the mostParker sentenceI’ve ever heard,” Mia says, laughing.
Amy rolls the dice for her turn, moving her little dog token safely past Parker’s property empire. As she collects $200 for passing Go, she glances up at me with that look—the one that always precedes some attempt at prying into my personal life.
“So,” she says, way too casually, “how did things go with Natalie after the show?”
And there it is.
I shift uncomfortably in my chair, suddenly very interested in reorganizing my property cards. “Uh, well…”
“You never called her, did you?” Parker doesn’t even look up from counting his money.
“I meant to,” I say, which isn’t entirely a lie. I did think about calling her … for about thirty seconds before I got distracted by the package from Brittany. The stuffed cat named Polly andher note consumed my thoughts for days afterward. But I can’t exactly tell them that.
“You had chemistry,” Amy insists. “I could tell! She was totally into you.”
“Yeah, well…” I trail off, reaching for my beer. “I guess I just got busy.”
