No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t hear if Ducky responded.
“Reeves, you out?” Kai called, every head between them turned Chad’s way.
“No. Maybe. I gotta take this. It’s Duck,” he said, waving the phone in the air as if that somehow made his words more audible.
“Can you hear me?” he asked Ducky, letting the swinging doors shut behind him. It still took a few steps down the aging front porch before he could hear Ducky’s patient voice repeating.
“I can still hear you. And I can hear you now too. Still hearing you…”
“How ’bout now?” Chad teased, taking several steps away from the building until he plunged his flip-flops into the cool sand. Those were quickly kicked off as he kept going toward the surf beckoning him over. The loud music faded the farther he went. “I came to see Kai. Tristan made him an offer about an hour ago. Kai accepted without even considering a negotiation.”
“That was fast.” Ducky didn’t sound overly impressed.
“Yeah. Faster than I thought. Kai needs a manager. He could’ve gotten a hell of a lot more out of Tristan,” Chad said, staring out at the dark ocean, watching the moon slowly rise.
“I thought you had a golf tournament coming up.” Ducky said the word tournament as if testing the accuracy. That had Chad grinning. Their common ground focused only on gaming. Chad didn’t understand the world of programming any more than Ducky understood athletics, but they did try for each other. “When did you decide to go to Costa Rica?” Outside of his mother, Ducky was the only other person in the world who knew Chad’s struggle with his fathers. Defeat had him dropping down to the sand and crossing his legs. “I thought you were gonna try that golf mental fatigue counseling retreat…the whatever place you said.”
“I was…” Chad replied with all the shame of not being able to follow through with his decision. Golfer’s burnout was a real thing and had a tight hold on him. So tight he didn’t have it in him to sit with a sports counselor to talk golf for any length of time, especially for multiple days.
“You should be here practicing or resting or playingLeague of Legendswith me…” Ducky gave a small laugh. “Or whatever else a golfer does to get ready for his next…match.”
As if the lack of sleep was just now a problem, Chad let go of a long yawn and drew his knees up, draping an arm around his legs. “I miss the down time where we spent days online playing games together. We used to ditch class to play. Sucks to grow up. But I rode a lit wave today. Probably the best I’ve ever done. Want to see the pictures?”
“You mean like you surfed? Sure.”
Chad put the call on speaker and worked the gallery until he sent a couple of photos then the video the brunette inside took. That was how she’d become attached to the group. A groupie to her core.
Chad rewatched his video, reliving the high of the ride. “You gotta give surfing a try, Duck. It’s straight fire. And you’ve got to come here. The waves are rugged and rough. It just worked for me today. It was my day.”
“Cool, cool. You look like Kai out there,” Ducky said.
Chad continued to flip through the individual photos. One being from the bar about an hour ago. He’d thought he blended in well enough with the guys. He wore the same style clothing and thought he’d connected with the casual vibe of literally everyone around him, but the pictures told a different story. Chad was the obvious stand-out. Even in beachwear, the city attitude radiated off him. He looked more like a sport’s agent—wrinkle-free clothing, perfect hair, groomed facial hair. His watch alone had to cost more than the dive bar they hung out in.
“Yeah, I wish I did. He’s something to see in person. He’s incredible,” Chad answered, closing his gallery, putting those thoughts away. “How long until The Game Awards?”
“I leave next week, but I’m in over my head. The Riot Games’ PR team is going to start working with me tomorrow. I don’t know what I was thinking when I accepted their offer.” Ducky’s stress and anxiety spoke louder than the words he said.
He was a few years older than Ducky. When they were younger, he got why they didn’t hang out outside of gaming. They lived thirty minutes away from one another, might as well have been another state away at that age. Now though, it didn’t make much sense except Ducky had never opened that door. He was a true loner, lived life on his terms. Ducky’s existence was no different now than it was when he had little more than the clothes on his back.
“You know what you were thinking. It’s a dream come true for guys like us. It’d be fire if they asked me to present. If you see Fudge from Cloud 9, I want his autograph. Don’t forget.” Chad wasn’t lying in the least. He’d hang that autograph in his condo for the world to see.
“Go back to whatever you were doing. I wanted to see if you could get on and play a game,” Ducky said.
“Everybody in the bar’s trashed. I’m not drinking. I’ll practice in the morning while they’re passed out. Tristan’s wanting a letter of acceptance signed before I leave. We’ll do something extra when Kai signs the official contract in a few weeks. Maybe I can be out of here by early evening tomorrow.” A long yawn slipped free.
He wasn’t willing to let Ducky end the call. He lived for these unguarded conversations. They were more infrequent these days, but Ducky always eased Chad’s worry. Made life a little less stressful. Maybe it was the deep tenor of Ducky’s voice or the way he truly seemed to care about Chad’s wellbeing. Who was he kidding? Apparently, himself. Boyhood crushes had metamorphosed into adult crushes, he supposed.
“I can talk unless you want to get off and find someone else to play with.”
“I’m good. I just finished dinner and reclined back in my chair. What’s it look like there tonight?”
Chad lifted his phone and took a picture. It did little to show the magnitude of beauty surrounding him. Instead of sending the dark picture, he described what he saw. “It’s ocean for as far as I can see. Where I’m at right now, the water is calm, not the epic waves south of here…” He lost himself in the explanation of the beauty of his surroundings.
The tension drained off him as the healing balm of the night sky, the back-and-forth cadence of the waves, and the connection with his good friend—his best friend—lulled him into a peaceful conversation. One that lasted hours. So long that he missed the closing of the bar and found himself walking back to the motel, the phone still glued to his ear.
.
CHAPTER 4
