And then there was Jack, who kept trying to catch my eye. But there were too many things I’d miss about him to think of in the moment, and I couldn’t keep playing across from him, wanting him the way I did, if we couldn’t be together. If he wouldn’t take responsibility for his own future.
As Fatima finished setting the scene for what would be everyone else’s next adventure, I expected her to ask us all if we were planning to continue. Bless her, she probably assumed it was a given, and I’d have to bring down the vibe by bowing out.
“But before we talk about continuing,” Fatima said, and I looked up at her, surprised, “we’re going to have to move from Monday nights.”
“Wait, why?” Chloe asked. “We’ve been playing on Mondays for years.”
“Yeah,” Grey said, “what’s the deal? I’ve already written it down in my diary for the rest of the year. In pen, no less.”
But Fatima didn’t answer, instead turning her gaze to Jack. “Over to you, buddy.”
“Oh,” Jack said, clearly not prepared to say anything. “Okay, um…”
He trailed off, and his eyes found mine for a small moment, but I bailed, looking down at my character sheet instead, fixing my eyes on my atrociously low health, my leg bouncing up and down beneath the table.
“I’m starting a course,” he said, and I froze. “It’s on Monday and Wednesday nights. So, actually, we can’t do Wednesdays either. Hope that’s okay.”
“Wait, what?” Chloe asked.
“Hey, congrats, mate,” Phil said at the same time.
“Thanks,” Jack said to Phil.
“Hold on,” Chloe said, “what course? What are you talking about?”
“Uh, it’s actually an architecture course. Not a degree or anything, just a self-paced intro course with a tutor. Then I can go on to do the actual qualifying ones if I want.”
I looked up at the shy smile on Jack’s face. I could only imagine what my own face looked like.
“That’s so cool,” Phil said. “You can finally put all those scribbles to good use.”
“What about your dad?” I asked, not thinking about it until the words were already out of my mouth. They all turned to look at me, but I ignored them. I only cared about what Jack was saying. What it meant.
“Dad’s cool with it,” Jack said, meeting my gaze. “Or, he will be. He knows it’s what I want.”
It’s what I want.Those four words were so innocent, so simple, and yet they were a tsunami wave crashing over me as I blinked at Jack. Two weeks ago, he hadn’t even been able to admit that he didn’t want the future he’d laid out for himself. Now, all of a sudden, he not only knew what he wanted he’d actually signed up for a course. Talked to his dad. Made a schedule. The number of steps he had to have taken in the lastthree bloody weeksto be able to say those words?
I didn’t know what to think.
“Well, I can do Tuesdays,” Grey offered. “Or Thursdays, for that matter.”
“Thursdays are better for me,” Chloe said.
“Fine by me,” Phil added.
They all looked at me; now was the moment. I needed to tell them I couldn’t do it. But Jack caught my eye again, and I found I couldn’t do it. Those four words had changed everything, and I was at a loss.
“Thursdays are great,” I said, too mesmerised by the way Jack’s eyes crinkled at the edges to listen to the voice in my head insisting this was a bad idea.
“Great,” Fatima said, closing the notebook. “Thursdays it is. Now I don’t know about you all, but I’m fucking exhausted.”
“Hear, hear,” Phil said.
“Huzzah!” Grey cheered.
As the rest of the table got up, Phil patting Jack on the shoulder and congratulating him, I focused in on my bare feet against the cold hardwood floor. Surely, if I concentrated hard enough, I’d be able to actually feel the earth shifting beneath them. The tectonic event that was tonight must have been registering on some Richter scale, somewhere.
“Sorry,” Jack said, suddenly the only one left at the table. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”
