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Chapter 11

Throughout Monday morning, Liam thought hard about what he should ask Robert to do for his next challenge—or rather, his final challenge, as they’d agreed their game was becoming exhausting and would be more fun as a periodical event rather than a continuous one.

Because he fancied symmetry, he sought inspiration in Robert’s initial test, when he’d asked Liam to construct a collage to express his deepest desire. It had felt awkward at first, but it had ultimately reminded Liam what was truly important.

Still he came up empty—until he went across the street to the community center for his Monday workout. As so often happened, a bit of blood flowing to the brain provided the clarity he needed. Or perhaps it was the bit of serendipity at the front desk.

Robert arrived at Liam’s flat at half past one, fresh from his meeting with the Glasgow Effect funders.

Liam greeted him at the door. “How’d it go?”

“I got a reprieve. They’ll fund me another six months.”

“Thank God.” Liam put a hand to his own chest. He hadn’t realized how anxious he’d been about Robert’s meeting until the relief had rushed in just now. “They don’t mind you redesigning it the way we talked about last night?” The two of them had stayed up until nearly four a.m., brainstorming progressively more out-of-the-box ideas.

“They couldn’t argue with the analytics. Keeping the game serious and realistic was exactly what the players didn’t like.” Robert took a glass from the dish dryer and filled it at the tap. “I brought an armful of video-game-psychology studies to support my argument. And I reminded the funders that life in Glasgow can be pretty silly, in good ways and bad. So making the quests and goals more fun doesn’t make the game any less realistic.”

“If anything, it makes it more like Glasgow itself.”

Robert nodded as he swallowed a huge gulp of water. Then he exhaled hard. “They didn’t all agree, but enough of them did for me to keep going.”

“Did they like my quest idea where you try to make it all the way up Buchanan Street while avoiding increasingly aggressive buskers?”

“That was their favorite. They especially liked the big boss bagpiper at the end.”

“Good.” Liam pressed his palms together. “And you asked about hiring help?”

“I did. They agreed to give me a wee bit more money for a couple of part-time subcontractors to ease my workload.” Robert gave a sheepish smile. “So now I can work sixty hours a week instead of eighty.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Some of the money to pay the subcontractors will come out of my pocket, but that’s only fair. I’m the one whose life’ll be easier.” Robert finally slid off his coat and slung it over the back of a kitchen chair. “Okay, I’m ready to think about something else. Have you got my final challenge?”

“Yes! You’ll never guess what it is. Never in a trillion years.”

Robert hesitated. “Then maybe just tell me?”

“Fair enough.” Swallowing his trepidation, Liam pulled from his pocket the green flyer he’d picked up at the community center.

Robert took the flyer and unfolded it. “Volunteers needed to teach computing classes.” He looked at Liam. “You want me to do that?”

“It’s been months since you’ve put in a volunteer shift there. You could teach the magical things you do.” He gestured in the direction of the community center. “It’s where you first learned all that, right?”

“It was. I’d be nowhere without those classes.” Robert folded the flyer in half and creased it hard. “But with my job, I don’t know if I’ve got time.”

“Then make time,” Liam said. “Remember when I told you that simply working less wouldn’t be enough, that you needed to replace a bit of your job with something else important?”

Robert nodded. “You said I’d get bored. You were right. I do need a new challenge.”

“And for once I wasnae talking about sex. Well, not only about sex.” Liam rubbed his neck to soothe a twinge of nervousness. “I thought teaching this class might remind you why you love what you do. And also remind you who you’re doing it for.”

Robert’s gaze rose to meet Liam’s. Then he closed the distance between them and kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him for what was probably the longest time they’d ever kissed fully clothed.

Then Robert said, “I love you.”

“Wow. I should order you to do good deeds more often.” Liam pointed to the door. “Away and cure cancer!”

Robert laughed and drew back slightly without letting him go. “I’ve never taught anything before. What if I’m rubbish?”

“Such is the glory of volunteering—if you’re rubbish, no one can complain much.” He straightened the collar of Robert’s black turtleneck, the one that somehow brought out the blue in his eyes. “What do you think?”

Robert released a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

Three minutes later, they were inside the community center, the place that had kept the two of them off the street and (mostly) out of trouble during their teenage years.

“Robert, good to see you back,” said Janice, the volunteer coordinator. “How can you help me?” she added with a wry grin.

He handed her the flyer Liam had given him. “I’d like to teach a course, maybe in digital art or even video-game design.”

“That would be dead popular, much more than spreadsheets and word processing. I’ll go and get this year’s forms for you to fill in.” She disappeared into a back office.

Liam felt foolish now for worrying Robert would bristle at the suggestion he spend time on something other than work. The man was nothing if not open-minded.

He leaned his elbows on the desk and tapped his foot against Robert’s. “This challenge should have intrinsic rewards, but if you need an extrinsic one…”

Robert smiled. “Yeah?”

“You can have my admiration.”

“Ah.”

“Demonstrated by a session of long, slow, deliciously deep dicking.”

Robert was still laughing when Janice returned. She set a form in front of him and said, “Just jot down all the courses you’d be willing to teach. We’ll see which have the most interest and then decide together.” She turned to Liam. “And what will you be helping with, Mister Carroll?”

“Unless you’ve got a class in bartending or sliding tackles, I’ll just be your dogsbody as usual—tidy up, move chairs and tables, staff the front desk and all. Whatever needs done.”

“We could always use someone like that.” She gave him a form.

Robert picked up a pen, then paused. “What other courses do you want instructors for? In case I know anyone else who wants to help.”

“Here’s a list of volunteer needs.” Janice brought out a blue sheet from beneath the desk and handed it to him.

Robert perused it, then folded it up when Liam went to look at it over his shoulder.

That was weird , Liam thought, but after a quick glance at the clock, he hurried to finish filling in his form.

Outside the community center, Robert asked, “You’re away to the pub now?”

“Aye, I need to be there early to help get ready for Hannigan’s Burns Night supper. There’s still tickets available on the door at six, so you should come. It won’t be the best haggis in Glasgow, but it’ll be a haggis in Glasgow.”

“Brilliant marketing pitch. ‘Our haggis exists. Come and eat it.’”

Liam chuckled as he pulled on his gloves. “Only if you’ve got time tonight, of course.”

“I haven’t got time.” Robert gave a firm nod. “But for you and a haggis, I’ll make time.”

* * *

A few weeks later

“Are you the yin created Maximum Dragon ?”

Robert looked up from his student roster to see a girl of maybe fourteen gazing up at him. “Aye, that was me.”

“Oh. My. God!” She dashed back to the second row, her long dark braid whipping around her head. “I telt you it was him!”

Her friend was already jumping out of her chair. “Are you gonnae do a Lost Levels release? Pleeeeease? It’s been two years.”

“There’s nae lost levels,” Robert said.

“Don’t believe him.” Liam joined him at the front of the community center computer room. “There are seventeen lost levels, but the government labeled them ‘certifiably mind-blowing’ and deemed them a danger to mental health. We’re still in litigation.” He raised a fist. “Freedom for Maximum Dragon ! Free Max Drag !”

They echoed his call, turning it into a chant. The other twelve students, ranging in age from thirteen to fifty-two—according to Robert’s roster—looked bemused as they took their seats.

He turned to Liam. “If you’re to stay and be a nuisance, maybe give them the syllabus?”

“Aye-aye, teacher.” Liam saluted, then picked up the stack of sheets and passed them around before taking a seat in the back of the class.

Robert introduced himself and had his students do the same. They began by discussing the basic elements of games such as rules, goals, and processes.

“Enough talk for now,” he said after ten minutes. “Time to play. Each of you has in front of you a computer and a notepad. Choose one of the games on the screen and play it for fifteen minutes. As you play, write down everything you do, every choice you make and how you feel about it.” He saw a few faces scrunch up in skepticism. “This is a key skill in game design, learning how to observe while you’re experiencing, being in the moment while still analyzing. It’s not easy, and it doesn’t come naturally, but this is where it starts.”

In the back of the room, Liam lifted his chin and gazed at the ceiling in what Robert hoped was contemplation and not boredom.

“Anyway,” Robert continued, “be as objective or subjective as you like, but give us details. Then we’ll divide into groups and compare experiences.”

The students began their assignment, and soon the room filled with the low rumble of chatter. He went from table to table, answering questions while keeping one eye on the door.

I hope I’ve got the timing right.

Finally the person he’d been waiting for passed by. Robert hurried to the door and called out. “Oi, Tamara! Liam, look who it is.”

The physiotherapist who’d worked two of their matches last month turned round. “There you are,” she said to Robert, “my relentless recruiter.” She came back down the hall and smiled at Liam, who’d just joined Robert outside the classroom. “Nice to see you lads in street clothes and acting like civilized human beings instead of footballers.”

“Tamara’s teaching an exercise class for healthy backs,” Robert told Liam. “Not, like, fullbacks and center-backs. Like…back backs. The body part.” He pressed his lips together to stop his blethering, hoping his machinations weren’t too obvious.

“I figured that’s what you meant.” Liam suddenly brightened. “Do you need help setting up?” he asked Tamara.

“That’d be great.” She glanced at the sheet in her hand, then turned to the room behind her. “Looks like I’m in there.”

“Okay, I’ll join you in a second,” Liam told her. When she was gone, he turned back to Robert. “Do I look all right? Any food in my teeth?” He grimaced to display them.

“You look fine.” Robert tried to keep a straight face. “Why do you ask?”

“I thought I might—I mean, not ask Tamara for a job or anything, but just chat about what she does.” He shoved his hands in his front jeans pockets. “What her days are like and all. Maybe.”

“That’s a fantastic idea.” Robert risked a compliment he knew would be shrugged off. “I’m proud of you.”

“Well, I cannae just sit on my arse while you’re being all inspiring.” Liam started to turn away, then stopped. “Wait…Tamara said you recruited her. Did you arrange for us to be here at the same time?”

Oops. Caught out. “I asked Tamara if she wanted to volunteer, and I scheduled my class to overlap with hers, in case you wanted to pick her brains about physiotherapy. But I never mentioned you to her.”

“Okay, good.” Liam straightened the front of his shirt but didn’t move away. “How’s it feel, by the way? Your class, I mean.”

“It’s definitely a challenge.”

“As much as playing football in silk knickers?”

“Even tougher. But I needed to do it.” Robert scanned the community center hallway, with its bright-but-outdated decor. “I’ve been so focused on saving this city as a whole, I forgot Glasgow is made up of individuals.”

“‘People Make Glasgow’—that’s one of the city’s own slogans.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Robert felt a warmth spread through him. “And you were right about another thing: Teaching this class reminded me that what I do for a living is pretty amazing.”

“So you’ll not be pursuing an IT position at a bank?”

“God, no. Never.”

“Good, cos I like the way you look just now, all fulfilled and that.” Liam took a step back. “In fact, I want to feel the way you look just now. So…” He took a deep breath, then turned on his heel and entered Tamara’s classroom.

Feeling pleased with them both, Robert returned to his own class to continue observing his students at play. There were smiles and frowns and furrowed brows, but no faces showed the blankness of boredom.

Near the end of the exercise, a man in the front row, who was maybe ten years older than Robert, raised his hand. “I looked you up online. You’re making an app to stop Glaswegians dying young?”

The rest of the class quieted, every eye fixing on Robert.

“Erm…yeah, Scott, is it?” The man nodded, and Robert congratulated himself on remembering the name. “It’s meant to be sort of a game, but the play involves real-life choices—and some not-so-real-life ones, too, just to keep it fun.”

Liam appeared then at the door. He stopped at the threshold and gave Robert a thumbs-up.

“What’s the app called?” asked Emma, the girl who’d begged for Maximum Dragon lost levels.

“The official working title is Glasgow Effect , but to those in the know…” He met Liam’s eyes. “It’s called Be Less Shite .”

After class ended and the room had cleared out, Liam came over and gave Robert a quick kiss. “You’re a pure natural.”

“Thanks, but I definitely need practice. I talked way too fast. I was so terrified of being boring.”

“You could’ve read from the latest Act of Parliament and still held those girls’ attention. They’re fatally in love with you.”

Robert changed the subject. “How did you get on with Tamara?”

“Good. I’m glad you manipulated me into talking to her.”

“I didn’t?—”

“She says the practice where she works hired a massage therapist. Most of the big places have them.” He picked up one of the whiteboard markers and started flipping it end over end. “So I guess not all massage therapists are, like, stuck for hours in a wee pastel room with incense and New Age music.”

“Did it help you figure out what to do?”

“For now.” Liam fumbled the marker, then bent to pick it up. “I think I’ll start at massage college next month, and once I’ve got my certification or whatever, I can decide what to do with it. There’s nae rush.”

“Good.” Robert was glad for that—as spontaneous as Liam could be moment to moment, when it came to big decisions, he definitely preferred to look before he leapt. “And you’d stay at Hannigan’s in the meantime?”

“Of course.” Liam rubbed his own forearms, looking aghast at the thought of quitting. “I’d never leave unless I had something secure to move on to.” He tugged the hem of Robert’s shirt. “Unlike the hotter person in this room, I don’t jump into things all balls-out, Don Quixote–style.” He glanced at the open classroom doorway, then kissed Robert again, this time longer and deeper.

Robert sensed Liam was done talking about big plans. “You know, back when I signed up to teach this course, you mentioned something about an extrinsic reward.”

Liam cocked his head. “Did I? What could that have been, I wonder?”

“Take me home and I’ll remind you.” Robert pulled him close, and in his boyfriend’s dancing amber eyes he saw the future—Liam’s, his own, and theirs together. “I won’t even make you guess.”