On the way back home that night, we were silent in the car. It was not a very long ride, but usually, there was some funny banter between us. We were in a state of elation, and we didn’t realize we were still on earth and had the doubles tournament tomorrow.

Wait… the doubles tournament.

“I wonder if it’s too late to have Darren play as your partner, Wyatt,” I said.

Darren focused on driving, but he half turned his head towards me in the back seat. “Gordie, remember, it’s not even a question. You’re playing tomorrow, got that? End of discussion.”

“Yeah, but you came in third place,” I said.

“Or fourth, depending on how you look at it.”

“I placed lower than you.”

“Remember how I said end of discussion? I meant it. End of discussion.” Darren was firm with his statement. He had a principal-like tone in his voice.

A few red and green lights of silence passed by.

“Wow… I still can’t believe I won today. I finally won some money from playing this game,” Wyatt said.

“You gonna tell your dad about it?” Darren asked.

“I don’t know. Part of me wants to rub it in his face and say, ‘see? Look, I can do this, and I’m serious about it,’ but another part of me wants to wait until I bring in a huge haul, y’know what I mean? I might wait until we go to Miami, get some guaranteed money, and maybe win first place, and then I’ll rub it in his face that I made $250k quicker than he did at my age.”

“Is our dream of becoming professional players fueled by your hate for your dad?” I asked.

Wyatt glared at me. “I don’t hate my dad. And if I say I hate him, only I can say that.” He took a deep breath. “I’m doing this because I want to, Gordie. Nice job, by the way, with earlier. It’s official. We’re in Amaya’s team.”

“What are you talking about? We’re not ‘in.’ She’s not even planning on playing in Miami this year,” I said.

“We’re ‘in’ ‘cuz she gave you her number and said we can all hang out. We bridged the gap and made a friend with a legit pro at the game. No one else did that at the cruddy game store today. Not to mention Darren and I stole a game from her!”

He was right, and I had to remind myself of that. Even though I wanted nothing more than to go to Miami, we made a significant gain when we could have come away with nothing.

“When should I text her, -er when should we text her? Tomorrow?” I said.

“Give it a few days, Gordie. She’s not going anywhere,” Darren said.

“How do you know that?”

“Because she said she would be in town for a few days, weren’t you listening? Give it a few days, and let it marinate. We’ll get back to it.”

“I must’ve missed that,” I said. As we were leaving and saying our goodbyes, I was in a numb headspace, filled with victory and confusion.

Wyatt and I ended up winning the doubles tournament the following day.

Even though Darren had no partner, Jerry wouldn’t let Darren sit out. He wanted him to join up with someone else or even one of the clerks in the store, but Darren never did. Darren was firm with his desire to sit out. Instead, he watched Wyatt and I crush the competition. In the finals, we played against Or1on and a friend who was in the tournament the day before. His name was StarCrusher, and he played as Star-Power. They took one game from us in the series, which was best of five. Wyatt and I had a remarkable synergy that day. Or perhaps it was just the lacking of competition.

On the drive home, Wyatt was on cloud nine. “I’m fuckin’ telling my dad I won today’s tournament and yesterday’s. I’m telling him I made some fuckin’ money this weekend. Maybe he’ll get off my ass about making money for once. Show me a little respect. Papa Wyatt is in town.”

Darren and I looked at each other, grinning and stifling laughter, his last sentence didn’t make much sense, but it was funny either way. I was happy for Wyatt, and he inspired me to tell my parents of our victory.

When we came back to Darren’s house, his mom was home, and she beamed. “Hello! How was your guys’ day?!”

“It was great, Ma. Gordie, and Wyatt took home first place in the doubles tournament.”

“That’s fantastic!” Layla jumped up and down. “Have you boys eaten dinner yet? Let’s celebrate. Let’s get some takeout or go out to eat somewhere?”

“I speak for all of us when I say that we want to probably just stay in and do take out,” Darren answered.

His mom ordered us takeout at their favorite Chinese place, but I had never been there. The meal was spectacular, though, and after I finished, I drove back home immediately. The excitement of telling my parents that I had won first place bounced around my head.

I thought I knew what I’d say as I strolled into the living room. My parents would be on the couch and chair, relaxing away. But they weren’t. My mom was eating alone at the dining room table, and my dad wasn’t in sight. Maybe Dad was in the bathroom or cleaning some stuff upstairs?

My mom didn’t say a word to me, and I felt my smile fade. She didn’t even look up from the table as I walked through the door.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Gord. There are some leftovers in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet.”

“I already ate dinner, actually.”

“Okay.”

I’d have more fun talking to a wall. Darren, Wyatt, and I had a celebratory meal. Not like you care, though, not like you care why I was smiling or celebrating with a special dinner with my friends. Thanks. Thanks a lot for asking.

I moped up the stairs and slid into my room to lay on my bed. Even though I won my first ever tournament, I still felt defeated. But this is huge, Gordie. You hit a milestone today. Whether your parents care or not, at least you do. This is what you want, and this is the start.

A few days later, I ended up texting Amaya. It was a well-crafted message constructed by Darren, Wyatt, and me as we ate our celebratory dinner on Sunday night. Although, Darren and I mainly put together the message. Wyatt kept wanting to start the letter with, “What uppp gurrrrrl?” unironically.

Amaya!

It was so great to meet you the other day! Thank you so much for playing against my two friends and me. I wondered if you were free sometime this weekend if you’d like to get lunch with Darren, Wyatt, and me? We can share more about each other and talk about Elite Crushers if you’d like. Whatever you prefer, just let me know.

I felt so much anxiety before hitting the send button, especially afterward. I kept checking my phone even though it was a Wednesday during school, and I kept sneaking glances in the middle of class. The school day went by, and I never received a notification on my phone. The one time I did feel my phone vibrate was on my drive home, I checked at a red light, but it was only Darren asking our group chat if I had messaged Amaya yet.

Homework that evening was brutal to focus on because my mind was still fixed on Amaya. What could she be doing? Maybe she’s planning her calendar out for the weekend and is trying to find a time slot? Perhaps she’s busy? Maybe she hates you, Darren, and Wyatt.

My phone buzzed in the middle of my literature review, where I was breaking down the transcendental meanings behind Henry David Thoreau’s “Walden.”

New message: Amaya

A weird heart-sinking feeling undulated through me. I opened the message faster than a western cowboy, quick drawing their gun.

Hey Gordie, it was super great to meet the gang! I would love to get together with all of you. Lunch sounds perfect. Can you do Saturday at Maurice’s Pancake House in Lakeview? Let’s aim for 11AM if that works? I’m pretty busy this weekend, but that would be perfect if all of you were available then.

Without even thinking it through, I responded by saying, Yeah, of course! We’ll see you then! Then I messaged Darren and Wyatt to let them know of our plans.

Darren: Uh, Gordie, you should have consulted with us before agreeing. You and I both work on Saturday. Didn’t you check the schedule beforehand?

Me: Maybe we can get the shift covered? Or maybe Linda will give one of us the day off, most likely you. I mean, Amaya said she was pretty busy this weekend. Personally, I think this is crucial. This is a chance of a lifetime. We make a good impression and become Amaya’s friend. You’ll make more out of one Miami tournament than working at the grocery store for the rest of your life.

Wyatt: Naturally, I’m with Gord-o. You guys should definitely try and get the shift covered, at the very least. But then again, I don’t have a job, so I don’t know how hard or easy that is to do. I can for sure meet with her. My only hang-up is that it’s so early. I like to ease into my Saturdays.

Darren: I can’t really ask for it off unless it’s an emergency since the schedule is already made. Gordie, you and I really need to find people to cover our shifts.

Me: Yeah, I’m texting people now. Sorry about the inconvenience.

Talking to some of the other grocery store workers was a breeze. If someone didn’t want to take your shift, the prospect of trading shifts was always enticing. After asking two other people, I was able to find someone willing to trade a shift with me. They really wanted to have Sunday off, so I brokered a deal that they would work my Saturday, and I’d work their Sunday. Piece of cake. Then I received another message.

Darren: Yo, I’m lucky I found someone to cover my shift. Now, Gordie, I know you’re really excited, so I’m gonna let it slide, but you really gotta tell me about these plans as you’re making them. I don’t want stuff like this to happen regularly, ya feel? I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m mad because you miss the nuance when we talk through text, but I’m not angry or upset. I just want to be in the loop and part of the decision-making process, that’s all.

Me: You bet. I’m sorry I did that without consulting you or Wyatt. It won’t happen again!

Friday night that week, Darren and I muscled through our shift and linked up after work. Wyatt took the train to Darren’s house earlier in the day, and then Layla picked him up from there, and the three of us had our semi-regular sleepover. The entire night was spent challenging the near-perfect computer. None of us succeeded in getting any victories, but it was much-needed practice.

The following morning we woke up around 9 AM, and Darren drove his car to the train station, so we didn’t have to worry about parking it in Lakeview. Navigating through just two other trains and a walk to Lakeview’s Maurice’s House of Pancakes.