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My smile widened into a grin as I wrote down the address to my apartment—mine—where I was going to celebrate withmy girlfriend. I couldn’t get over being able to say I had those two things—and soon I might have a whole new career, too.
I left with a spring in my step. I knew I had to keep my expectations realistic. This was only a proof of concept, not even a final version. Heck, it didn’t even have a name. In my mind, I’d secretly started calling itThe Last Game—as in, the game to end all the others.
Despite how early this was, it was hard not to hope. I had something good, and I knew it. My friends loved the game more than any of my others, and they hadn’t even played the most updated version. It bore little resemblance to Flipcup. It was a creation all my own.
From the post office, I headed to my parents’ place for dinner. I was still going there once a week, if not more. Between visiting them and seeing my friends and Tara, I rarely ever spent an evening alone.
Mom and Dad were already seated at the kitchen table when I got there. “Sorry I’m late,” I said. “I was at the post office.”
“Doing what?” Mom poured me a glass of sparkling water.
“Well…” Half of me wanted to keep this a secret. If the game went nowhere, I’d feel silly for having disappointed my parents. On the other hand, I was too excited to keep it to myself. I could think of nothing else, and I wasn’t going to be able to hold my thoughts in all through dinner. “You know how I like to come up with games to play with my friends? I submitted an idea to a manufacturer.”
Mom gazed at me thoughtfully. “That seems like a good idea.”
“It’s a great idea, actually!” Now that I’d started talking, I definitely couldn’t restrain my excitement. “The game is really good. My friends love it. I think it really has a shot at being something.”
Dad sliced into his roast beef. “What happens if the company likes it?”
“They’ll buy it and give me a percentage of the profits.” Only a small percent, but the amount I’d make would depend on how many units sold, obviously. And I could see this game being the next Cards Against Humanity.
“I never knew you were interested in developing games,” Mom said. “For fun, but not as a potential career path.”
I took a bite of a potato wedge. “I never thought of it until Tara put it in my head. And it wouldn’t be a career, just a side thing.” Unless—oruntil—the game took off.
“Tara’s been good for you,” Mom said. “I wasn’t too sure at first, but just look at you.”
“She really has.” I grinned. “I’m glad you can see it.”
“So, when do we get to try out this game?” Dad asked.
I stopped eating. “Um… I don’t know if you two would like it. It’s a little… geared toward younger people.”
“We’re too old and stodgy?” Mom laughed. “Full of swearing, is it?”
“Among other things.” Some of the questions got downright sexual, and the “would you rathers” got into the kind of dark humor that was popular among my generation. My parents would be scandalized forever.
“We can handle a few curse words,” Dad said.
“I don’t think so.”
They looked at each other. “Just how bad is it?” Mom asked.
“It wouldn’t be your speed.” I stuffed my mouth with beef. “So, Dad, how is work going?”
I got them chattering about other things for a while, although my thoughts about the game still ran wild through my mind. How long would it take to hear back from the company? Obviously it wouldn’t be tonight, as much as I would’ve loved that. The delivery would probably take a few days—I should’ve FedExed it.
Oh God, what if it got lost in the mail? I’d never hear back, and I’d assume they’d hated it, but what if no response meant they’d never gotten it in the first place? I resisted the urge to pull out my phone and Google “is it too late to get a tracking number.”
When I got back to my place, the first thing I did was check my phone. I hadn’t heard from Tara all day. She’d been working, so it wasn’t surprising that she hadn’t texted me. She tried to be a model employee, which was sweet. She would’ve gotten off work more than two hours ago, though. No texts, no missed calls. Nothing?
I squelched the unease in my gut. She knew I’d been at my parents’—she probably hadn’t wanted to bother me. And maybe nothing exciting had happened that she wanted to talk about. Still, she usually liked to check in. Wasn’t that what girlfriends did?
Last night, she’d been so strange. She’d been sitting curled up when I came into the bedroom and found her, and then she’d left so suddenly. Maybe something was wrong—but what had I done? Maybe she was offended I’d chosen to work on my game instead of spending time with her. But she’dsaidit was okay!
I dialed her number. I was going to play it cool, act normal, and see if she was mad. If she was, I’d let her have it. She couldn’t say something was okay and then hold a grudge against me for it. That was just immature.
It took her five long rings to pick up. “Hey, baby.” Her voice sounded laconic.
