Cheat

I was filled with flustered butterflies and wrought with blush as Reed takes me to the room, deep in the heart of the house. I was meeting his new friends that night, the conglomeration of people he’d met at his new office job. Reed opened the door to reveal a throng of people scattered across the mismatched sofas, all cheering as a handful played each other in a video game I didn’t know.

Reed plopped into an open armchair, rust colored velour, and I perched on the armrest, sandwiched between him and another boy jamming buttons on his controller with furious thumbs. I was both honored and dismayed at the thought of meeting Reed’s new friends, but also quickly realized that there may not be anything to be afraid of.

“Give them a minute,” Reed said in an almost whisper. “The match is almost done.”

Just as he spoke, like clockwork, the automated voice from the TV boomed “Three! Two! One!” and time was called. There were groans and cheers and the boy next to me thrusts his controller in the air triumphantly before turning to me.

“Great match huh?”

His eyes are like storm clouds.

I shrug, not knowing what to say. “Wanna smash?” he asks, his thick eyebrows poised with question.

“Excuse me?” I reply, taken aback. He gestures to the controller, kelly green and extremely beat up.

“Smash? As in Super Smash Brothers?”

I shake my head in confusion, pulling my hands back into my too-long sweater sleeves. He laughs deeply before leaning in to me.

“I’m Sam.” His voice is like chocolate, rich and deep and somehow foreign. His mouth curls into a little half smile, almost debonair but not quite. It’s genuine and wholesome and safe, and everything seems to have this intense pulsing bass and I can’t tell if it’s him or the room.

Reed’s hand is on the small of my back, rubbing in small concentric circles. I feel as though there’s a thin, red string tied to my core that leads right back to Sam’s, it’s pulling me to him like an anchor to the ocean floor. I want to cut it, but I can’t.

“I’m Cath.”