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My sister squints at him. “Different? From when? Where?”
Rhys crosses his arms over his chest. “GenCon 2022.”
My sister’s face is like watching a video of an avalanche in slow motion.
“Wait a second,” Rebel says, her voice quavering. “That was you?”
Rhys grunts. “Are you serious?”
My brain scrambles. Twenty-two…that was the year she came home from her several rounds of nerdy conventions with a wicked bug we thought was a head cold, until it wasn’t…
Oh god. He doesn’t know.
“You do look different,” she says, blinking at Rhys, giving him a tremulous smile. Is she going to tell him? Now?
“Do I look that different when I’m not wearing orc makeup?” Rhys asks.
She arcs an eyebrow. “The orc look was cute. I just didn’t peg you for a guy who wore bougie sweaters.”
Rhys clutches his chest. “Break my heart again, why don’t you?”
Rebel’s face is unreadable. Dean shifts uncomfortably next to me.
“Maybe we should postpone the game and let you two have a moment alone,” Dean offers.
This time, Forrest speaks up. “No way. Lore took time out of her busy schedule to be here. We’re playing.”
Lore, who’s been watching this conversation like a tennis match spectator, beams at Forrest. Forrest turns white and looks down at his hands.
“Okay then,” I say.
Rebel looks around the room. “Got room for one more?”
Forrest nods. “Sure do. We had one no-show. You need a character sheet?”
Rebel and Rhys both laugh, and for the first time, I catch something between them. “Do I need a character sheet? Baby, I got enough character sheets memorized to pass the time by making up a whole quest in my own head while waiting in line at the DMV.”
“Got it,” Forrest says, looking scared of my sister. He should be.
“Now who’s the Game Master tonight?” Rebel asks.
Rhys lifts his hand. “That’s me.”
Rebel pauses while pulling out a chair. “Ah shit. You’re gonna destroy my ass, aren’t you?”
A wicked smile crawls over Rhys’s face. Dean and Forrest exchange glances.
“The GM is smiling already,” Dean mutters. “Shit.”
“What does that mean?” I ask Dean. Rebel plops into her seat and takes a small velvet dice bag out of her purse and plops it onto the table unceremoniously.
Forrest grumbles, “It means everybody hold on to your butts. This is gonna hurt.”
12
Dean
I’m usually kind of a grumpy ass when I start a new campaign with people who’ve never played before.
