“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“And the bet is still on. I have no interest in embarrassing myself trying to learn your choreography.”
“And I’m not cleaning the men’s restroom.”
There’s another beat of silence, and then Max clears his throat.
“But…I’m sorry. I was jealous and angry, and I took it out on you.” I can feel the moment he turns his face toward mine. “Does that count as telling you everything?”
I shouldn’t turn to meet his gaze. Our faces will be too close, and it’ll be awkward and weird.
But I do it anyway.
His dark hair is falling across his eyes, and his expression is contrite in a way I’ve never seen before. Heat floods through me at his nearness. I know I can’t trust him—not after everything we’ve said and done to each other in the past few weeks. But, at least in this moment, I can’t find it in myself to hate him either. Not when I canalmostsee the boy I used to be half in love with. My skin flushes and I sit up quickly.
“You’re really gunning for this D&D game, huh?”
He chuckles and sits up next to me. “You know I’ve always wanted to play. I could never find anyone at my last school. Although I do have some stipulations.”
“I haven’t agreed to let you play yet. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Listen, let’s be real. You need me. You clearly don’t have a huge list of people lining up to join D&D, or you and Novawould already have a game going on. As it is, you only have Nova and Li, and that’s not enough for a very fun campaign.”
I screw up my face in defiance. Max may have a point, but I’m not going to let him know that.
“And if you think about it, this whole thing isn’t actually fair to me.” He stands and starts bouncing on the balls of his feet. I stand as well so I can easily scramble off this trampoline if needed. “Right now the party will consist of your best friend, who I’m sure you’ve turned against me, and one of your color guard members, who clearly already hates me if her horror-filled screech on Friday is to be believed.”
He starts jumping higher and I follow suit, not wanting to be left behind. “And could you blame Li? She had to wash her clothes three times to get the vinegar scent out.”
He has the audacity to laugh. “I mean, come on. That was alittlefunny, right? I chuckled the entire time I was filling those balloons.”
“It was not funny, and you are not helping your cause.”
“All I’m saying is that there needs to be some equality to the party. Some balance.”
“If you’re about to suggest Brody as a possible player, I will push you off this trampoline and ban you from the house.”
“I’d like to see you try.” He smiles in a cocky way, and I’m so tempted, but then he puts out his hands in defense. “No, not Brody. He doesn’t care about gaming. I was thinking about Felix Jackson.”
I hesitate and bring his face to mind. He’s the younger snare player I’ve seen hanging out with Max on a few occasions. He’s percussion, so that’s a big hit against him, but Idon’t remember him being overtly aggressive or rude, unlike some of the other players.
“Isn’t he pretty quiet?”
Max nods. “Definitely. He’s a cool kid, no matter what you might assume, and I think he’d be interested in learning to play. Plus he’s struggling to find his place in band.”
My thoughts go to Li. I’d almost respect Max for looking out for the younger members of his section, but I’m still too nervous about this arrangement he’s proposing.
“So, you’re saying the group would be split—you and Felix and then Nova and Li.”
“I don’t think it’s a good sign if the DM is already envisioning the party being split down the middle. Haven’t you watched the livestream ofDon’t Split the Party? If not, you need to remedy that.”
“Actually, I have. I’m sorry, it’s just hard to imagine everyone suddenly getting along.”
“But we aren’t ourselves when we’re at the table. We’re playing characters, right? So it shouldn’t be a problem.”
I take a deep breath and try to consider this from a neutral mindset. If the roles were reversed, I’d want a friend at the game table with me too. And if everyone is willing to lay down their weapons when they come to the table (and pick up fictional ones instead), then this could possibly work.
“When we’re playing, there won’t be any band politics or sarcastic comments or infighting,” I say, pointing at him. “We all have to make a commitment to the group and be loyal to the rest of the players. Are you going to be able to do that?”
