Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Nine
Développé: a slow unfolding of the leg, extending to one hundred and twenty degrees to the front, side, or back.
Alexander
For the first time in my life, I approached the Hollyberry Ballet School with no small amount of dread. What was I thinking agreeing to some sort of gamer party? I’d been playing this game for under two weeks. Now I was about to show off my lack of skill to total strangers? Clearly, my time back home had gone from boredom to bonkers, a fact underscored by Rudy emerging from the building’s back entrance carrying what appeared to be all his worldly possessions in no less than four bags.
“What’s with the luggage?” I stamped my feet against the evening chill. I’d changed from our school visit earlier, and I’d never confess how long picking out a shirt had taken me. Lacking Rudy’s endless supply of geek-themed T-shirts, I’d ended up with a basic blue pullover and a growing stack of doubts. Rudy juggled his many bags as he made his way to me. Not wanting him to injure something, I relieved him of the two larger bags. “And give me those.”
“Deck boxes, dice collection, play mats, the usual assortment of game stuff.” Rudy gestured at the bags I now held before holding up the other two. “And these are my contributions to the snack table.”
“Wait. Was I supposed to bring food?” I undoubtedly sounded rather cranky in addition to clueless. I should have known the gathering was a potluck. In my defense, in my parents’ world, a party usually meant catered, but I loathed the idea of showing up empty-handed.
“Relax.” Rudy swung the reusable shopping bags. A package of tortilla chips peeked out of the top of one bag. “You can share credit for my chips and dip and a veggie tray if it makes you feel better, but people will just be happy to see a new face.”
“Fresh competition.” My tone was measured. All eyes would undoubtedly be on me, sizing up my weaknesses, debating how quickly I could be defeated. This was a terrible idea.
“We’re not that vicious.” Rudy chuckled as he led the way down the block. “Actually, you may be one of the most bloodthirsty among us.”
“Why play if not to win?” I asked reasonably, but Rudy only laughed that much harder.
“For fun, Alexander. Fun.” Rudy shook his head at me. He’d paired his older ski-style coat with an absurd knit hat that sparkled in the glow from the street lamp. In my admittedly limited opinion, yarn should be neither furry nor glittery, and somehow Rudy’s hat managed to be both.
“Winning is fun.” That was the entire reason I’d agreed to this plan. Every night we played was a fresh chance to beat Rudy. Even when I didn’t succeed, the rush of trying had me clamoring for another round. Winning was an even bigger adrenaline rush, and as far as I was concerned, the entire purpose of the game.
“You’re incorrigible.” Rudy sighed like I was truly taxing. In truth, he put up with me much better than most, never cowering from my moods or reputation. “And we’re here.” His voice brightened as he stopped in front of a weathered sign for Top of Your Table Games, a store I hadn’t known existed despite its proximity to the ballet school. However, it looked to have occupied this very corner for decades. Shifting both grocery bags to one hand, Rudy tapped his forehead. “Oh! I forgot to warn you about the cosplayers.”
“The cosplayers?” I frowned. I might need a dictionary for all things geek if I kept hanging around Rudy.
“Players who prefer to game while costumed as various characters from the Odyssey.” Rudy’s tone was extra earnest, a clear bid to convince me the idea wasn’t absurd. “It’s fun. You’ll see.”
“I wear costumes for work. Not recreation.” For all I loved about ballet, stage makeup and costuming were hardly my favorite things. The makeup was thick and hard to wash off, and depending on the production, costume tunics could be heavy and fiddly and require assistance to get on and off.
“Shush. Keep an open mind.” Rudy led me around the back of the shop. The heavy gray emergency exit door swung open to reveal a squat, bearded fellow somewhere around my age who wore a sweatshirt with the store logo. “Troy! How are you?” Rudy offered his usual enthusiastic greeting before motioning at me. “This is Alexander. He’s new, but he’s a killer with my shark deck.”
“Excellent.” Troy’s eyes narrowed like a panther sizing up its prey. He led us to the rear of the store, where folding tables and chairs were set up. “I put the finishing touches on a crow deck today that should match up nicely.”
“Did you get that mythic you wanted for it?” Rudy asked as he set his food offerings on one of the tables along the back wall that was already heaped with various food options, including a small crockpot bubbling away with meatballs inside and a couple of salad-like things. After my steady diet of quasi-healthy frozen meals, my stomach rumbled at the spicy scents mingling in the air.