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11
Riley
I read the text from Gigi.
It’s Game Show Night again. I’d love for you to join us. Nova will be there.
Game Show Night again?
I’m not sure which is better: interacting by answering questions or interacting over a meal. I’d say I prefer her food-themed nights but sitting at a table with strangers is worse than participating in a game.
It’s been awhile since I attended any of Gigi’s special events, and if Nova is going, I should join too or else I might seem ungrateful for all Gigi’s done for me.
I leave the solitude of my suite and stroll across the lawn to the same place as the last time. The night air blows cool and smells of the ocean and fresh-cut grass. Edison bulbs strung between palm trees brighten a seating area to the side of the main house. Tall hedges line the concrete fence surrounding the grounds, blocking the view to the neighbor’s property beyond.
Gigi’s friends, along with Nova, sit on chairs divided into two sections, like for a wedding. A podium is at the front. A screen hangs between two palm trees, and a projector points at it from the back, behind the rows of chairs. Roger, Gigi’s game night assistant, sits there, ready to work the projector while Gigi mans the podium as the host.
“Welcome.” She raises her arms. “For those who are new to tonight’s event, we’re playing America Says. I was introduced to the TV game show over a month ago and have found it to be great fun. Are you ready?”
I slide onto the seat in the back next to Nova. “Hey.”
She glances over and her eyes widen. “You’re here.”
“In the flesh.”
“I didn’t think you were coming, even though Gigi said you were.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it,” I say with fake enthusiasm.
She laughs.
And what a laugh it is—musical and sweet sounding.
“What?”
“You seem as excited to be here as I am.”
Her smile is infectious.
My lips curl up at the corners in response, something only she seems able to draw out in me.
“At least we have each other,” she says, her tone light and carefree.
“And I’m not the youngest person here this time.”
She glances around and then smiles and whispers, “Omigosh, you’re right.”
Gigi gestures to the two groups of players. “On the right side we have the team the Colorful Coyotes. And on the left we have the Buttered Biscuits.”
Nova and I are on team Buttered Biscuits.
“A biscuit would be good right now.” Nova leans closer and whispers near my ear.
Her breath reaches my nose, carrying the scent of cinnamon. I breathe it in, and my mind returns to my youth and my obsession with Hot Tamales candy.
I chuckle at the random comment. “A warm biscuit with butter and cinnamon and sugar.”
“Mmm. You just made my mouth water.”