Page 127 of Enzo

“And Jett?”

I groan. “That guy would declare the game inefficient and schedule a meeting about it.”

She laughs. “They sound like a bunch of very interesting people.”

“I don't know about that.”

“And what about you? How would you describe the way you play?”

I pause before answering.

“Apparently, I lose because I’m distracted.”

Her eyes meet mine and hold. The slightest tinge of pink colors her cheeks. That's when she yanks out a block and the tower crashes.

The noise startling. Molly laughs. “I'm the loser this time.”

I have a different suggestion. “How about we play a little differently this time”

“Yes please!” Her eyes light up. I knew she'd love the idea.

“Every time someone takes out a piece, they have to answer a question. And whoever makes the tower fall has to ...” I pause to think. “Has to answer three questions.”

“Oh.” She claps her hands together. “I like the sound of that.” She shifts on the floor, rearranging her legs and sitting back down.

I have my back against the couch, and my legs splayed out straight in front of me. I shift to kneeling when I have to remove a block.

“You start,” I tell her. “Favorite food?”

She pulls out a piece. “Fish tacos.”

My turn. I sit up, examine the tower, and pull out the piece, but I don't spend as long as before, because I don't care about the tower as much as I do about getting through the questions.

“Most embarrassing moment,” Molly asks.

I sit back down, frowning as I try to remember. “Turning up to a party dressed as a priest, because I'd been told it was a fancy-dress party, and it wasn't.”

She puts her hands to her face in shock horror. “You spend the night dressed like a priest?”

“I went home and got changed, then came back.”

“You would have had more fun dressed like a priest. Imagine the confessions you might have heard.”

“You're right.” I'm not just saying that, I actually mean it.

She pulls out a block. “What did you want to be when you were ten?”

It should have been an easy answer, but her expression changes and I've hit a nerve. She quickly manages to recover, but it's too late. I already noticed.

“A ... an ... astronaut.”

She doesn't convince me, but I don't probe even though every cell in my body screams at me to.

“First kiss?”

She really asked that.

“When I was thirteen. In Bermuda, with a girl I met at a party. She was sixteen, and told me she'd teach me.”