Our Song

by Ashley Bodette

  “I’d love to play a game with you,” I say in a sickeningly sweet voice, trying to cover up my nerves. I look down to pick a non-existent piece of lint from my shirt. “I just wasn’t sure what you were interested in doing this afternoon, or who you’d want to do it with.”

  “Oh, there are lots of things I’d like to do with you.”

  My eyes snap to his face. Apparently that little speech out in the car was meant to encourage me to continue to spend time with him.

  “Wha-what did you have in mind?”

  “Well, let’s have a look.” He walks toward the shelves filled with board games, studies each game, and then he bends over—would you look at that tush?—and grabs one that I can’t see from where I’m standing. When he turns around, his smile wide, he’s holding Don’t Break the Ice.

  “What on earth do you want to play that child’s game for?” I don’t need Asher knowing that I am a master at this game. It’s kind of embarrassing to know that you’re really good at something that three-year-olds like to play.

  “Well, I’m pretty good with a hammer, you know.” He winks as he holds the box out, silently asking me if I’ll join him in this game. And he’s not kidding about his hammer work. I remember watching him last summer pounding nails on the Habitat for Humanity project we worked on.

  I’m not sure if this is a good idea, but I grab the box from him and take it over to the coffee table. Opening it up, I can see that all the pieces are still here, even though the game is probably older than I am. I’m about to start setting it up when I notice that Asher hasn’t moved from his spot. I look up at him, and he’s staring at me, his jaw hanging open. “Are we going to play or not?” I ask, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.

  He slowly walks over to the coffee table and sits down, cross legged, on the floor across from me. He has this little smirk on his face, and it’s driving me crazy, because he still hasn’t said anything to me. “What are you smiling for?” I ask.

  “I just can’t believe you’re actually setting this game up, ready to play against this master hammer handler. Some people have even taken to calling me Thor.”

  I almost give him some smack talk, letting him know he’s about to be smashed to smithereens…but decide to surprise him with my skills instead. I finally have the cute little polar bear secured in the middle of the ice and ask, “Would you like to begin, oh mighty Thor?”

  The biggest grin spreads across his face. “Ladies first.”

  “If you insist,” I say as innocently as possible. Boy, he is in for the most intense, brutal game of Don’t Break the Ice he’s ever played.

  -----

  Asher

  Becca hesitantly picks up the hammer off the table. As she decides which block to knock out first, I say, “I can’t believe it’s our last year. How crazy is it that we’re seniors now? I don’t feel any different, but at the same time everything is changing. Are you excited?”

  “I guess. Although I sometimes wish I could just be home schooled, and only come to school for music classes.” She does a little silent Eenie, Meenie, Minie, Mo action with her finger, then shrugs and knocks out the block in the corner immediately in front of her on the outside edge. It’s so cute that she doesn’t really know what she’s doing. I give her a little smirk and a wink as I take the hammer from her.

  “Really? I mean, I get only wanting to come to school for music classes, but homeschooling? That doesn’t really seem your style. Besides, if you weren’t in humanities and calculus with me, who would I have to compete against for the highest score in the class?” I knock out one of the middle two blocks on the outside of my side of the board.

  "Nobody," she says with a smile. However, it quickly disappears. "But I still wish I were homeschooled sometimes."

  After I pass Becca the hammer again, she asks, “How do you decide which block to knock out?” She’s trying to change the subject, but as long as she keeps talking, I guess I’ll just roll with it.

  “It’s a secret. I can’t share my strategy if I want to win.”

  She sighs. “Well, I’m just not sure where to go from here. Would you give me a hint, just this once?”

  I smile and shake my head. “No way. You agreed to this game, fair and square. Nobody forced you to play.” This, of course, is true, but I hope I’m not making her feel like she has to spend time with me.

  “Fine. I guess I’ll just go with…this one.” She knocks out the other corner block on her side of the board. When she goes to hand me back the hammer, instead of grabbing the free end that she’s holding out to me, I grab her entire hand. Back in the fifth grade, my hands were already bigger than hers, but I didn’t realize just how much bigger they had grown. Hers must have stopped growing all together when she was 10 years old, because now my hand completely engulfs hers. Becca looks up at me, shocked.

  “Are you sure you want to finish this game? There’s no shame in forfeiting,” I say, trying to give her an out.

  Her brows come together as she looks down at the table. “Why would I forfeit?”

  “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but it’s pretty obvious that you don’t have a clue what you’re doing. And I wouldn’t want to make you feel even worse when I make you drown that poor polar bear.”

  She inhales through her nose, and exhales through her mouth as she sits up straighter and pushes her shoulders back. “No, no. Like you said, nobody forced me to play this game with you. I insist on finishing it.”

  “Alright, but if I win, you have to worship at the altar of the almighty Thor. That means getting me food, cleaning up after me, doing my laundry before we leave, baiting my hook for me when we go fishing…and we will go fishing.” I give her another wink to let her know that I’m playing around. Mostly.

  “And if I win?”

  Hmm. “If you win, I will do whatever you want me to for the entire time we’re here.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  “Well, if you’re so eager to win, you’re going to have to let go of my hand and take the hammer so we can finish the game.”

  -----

  Becca

  Asher’s gaze moves to our hands, and he almost immediately lets go of mine, as if he didn’t realize he was still holding it. He takes the hammer from me, and it looks like he’s confused for a moment. He shakes his head, as if it can clear his mind. So, it would seem not only that he still doesn’t know that I’m going to cream him, but now I’ve thrown him off his game. Score 1 for me.

  Asher is staring intently at the board, with an unsure look on his face. He reaches the hammer over to a block on my side of the board, which is touching the middle block. This time, he’s a little more hesitant in his hammering. Once he gets the block free, and the bear doesn’t fall, he smiles again, handing the hammer back to me. He thinks he’s just made it difficult for me to win. But I know that I can still knock out a third corner without touching anything holding the middle block up. I make it look like I’m thinking REALLY hard, twisting my lips from side to side. Then reach over to the third corner. The polar bear doesn’t budge, but the two blocks touching the block I just dropped out start to slide down a bit.

  I look up, about to hand over the hammer, when I notice Asher isn’t looking at me, but at the board. He’s starting to get concerned that he’s not going to win. A grin slowly spreads itself across my face, but then I quickly try to hide it, hoping he doesn’t notice. When he finally looks up at me, he asks, “How did you do that? How did you find the ONE block that wouldn’t knock out the middle, but also made it near impossible for me to win anymore?”

  I try to keep an innocent expression on my face as I say, “Beginner’s luck?”

  He slowly pulls the hammer from my hand, then goes back to searching the board for a way to win. As if that were possible. Watching the small movements of his eyes, and his hands, I can tell that he’s trying to visualize what will happen if he makes one choice or another. He does this when he plays chess, a
nd it makes me start to quietly giggle. Before pounding out one of the blocks, Asher looks back up at me, puzzled. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. It’s just…you’re making the same face right now, trying to decide which block to knock out in Don’t Break the Ice, that you make when you’re trying to figure out your next chess move. And the hand movements too.” Stating it out loud makes me giggle even more.

  “This is serious business, Becca. I want to win this little wager we’ve got going on. I mean, I know you are a fantastic cook, and I would love nothing more than to eat your food, have you bait my hook, and not have to clean up after myself all week.” His face is very serious, but I can see in his eyes that he’s laughing on the inside.

  “I know this is serious business. And as much as I would love to cook for you, and all that jazz, I am very much looking forward to you having to do whatever I want for the week.” Although, to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what I would ask him to do for the rest of the time we’re here.

  “Okay then. I’m going to knock out…this one.” As he is reaching the hammer toward the block, I know I have this in the bag. I try REALLY hard not to start grinning before he’s even started hammering. But he’s no longer paying me any attention, as all his focus is on the block. He lightly taps it once, trying to see if he can do it without making the other blocks around it fall out. When nothing else happens to the blocks it’s touching except that one block moving down a millionth of an inch, he smiles, and starts tapping a little harder.

  What he didn’t notice was that a block on the other side of the board also started slipping down. And I watch that other block while he is tapping his…and before he can even get his block out, the other block drops to the table, and the whole game crashes down after it. He stares at the table in horror. “Wha—how? What just happened?”

  “You just lost a very big wager to the queen of Don’t Break the Ice, that’s what happened.”

  He looks back up at me, and his face changes from horror to indignation.

  “You mean to tell me that you are some sort of genius at playing this game? And you let me believe that you didn’t have a clue what you were doing?”

  “Asher, I have been playing this game since I was old enough to hold that plastic hammer. You probably have too, but you also probably stopped playing it when you felt like you were too old to play a baby game like this. I, however, never stopped playing it, and discovered a few key secrets to almost always win the game. I have won almost every game of Don’t Break the Ice I’ve played since I was eight. My family has been playing me for years, trying to find ways to beat me. And yes, I let you believe I didn’t know what I was doing…at first it was because I didn’t want you to think I was some sort of weirdo who still plays games a three-year-old would. But then, when you offered that little wager, I decided not to let on, because I wanted to win.”

  Asher shakes his head, but there is a smile on his face. “My dear, sweet Becca. Who knew you were so competitive?”

  “You did. We’ve played chess tons of times. Ever since chess tournaments started when we were in fourth grade. At school, during church lock-ins…we’ve just never wagered anything over it before.”

  “Touché. Well, what do you say we change this wager up a bit—extend it if you will. Rather than this one game deciding our entire vacation, each game we play, the winner gets ONE thing; one meal cooked for them, choosing an activity, one load of laundry…” He’s got a Cheshire cat’s grin going now. “You get what I mean. But I think we need a set of House Rules for this week. I was previously unaware of your prowess in the Don’t Break the Ice area, so rule number one to this new wager: we tell the truth.” Asher holds up one finger. “No lies, and no cheating. Rule number two”—the second finger goes up—“we only play each game once. Rule number three, the loser of the previous game gets to choose the next game. I think that about covers it. Wha’dya say, Becca? Do we have a deal?”

  I like this new idea. But I think over each of the rules he’s come up with, making sure they don’t need to be changed, and trying to think of any other rules we may need. “I think we need to add one more rule, and then I will agree to your conditions of the wager.”

  “And what would that rule be?”

  “Before each game, we tell each other what we want if we win. I know we didn’t do that for this game, but in the future, I think it’s only fair we know what we will be getting ourselves into if we lose.”

  Asher looks at me for a moment, with his hand under his chin, tapping his lips like he really needs to think about this. “Alright, if you’re willing to agree to my terms, I think I can handle this one request from you. You’re on. Should we shake on it?”

  I smile. This is something we’ve done before every single game of chess we’ve ever played, shaking hands. But before I’ll shake on it, I have one more thing to add. “I think we should write down the House Rules of this gambling den we’ve created, and sign them before shaking on it.”

  I grab the notepad and pen that are always stored in the drawer of the coffee table, and write out our rules:

  HOUSE RULES

  1. Only the truth shall be told: No lying. No cheating.

  2. Each game may only be played once.

  3. The loser of each game chooses the next game.

  4. Before each game starts, each player states what they want if they win. The winner of each game gets ONE thing.

  By signing below, each player agrees to follow the House Rules for the course of the entire week.

  I look over what I’ve written, making sure I haven’t left anything out. It looks good to me. I sign the rules and turn the sheet around to face Asher.

  “Where do I sign?” he asks.

  “Anywhere you’d like.”

  “Can I sign here?” He holds my hand, palm up, and points to my palm.

  I’m not sure what to say. I haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks, since I missed church while being at volleyball camp, but I am wondering what has changed for him while I was gone. I decide to brush it off. “Ha ha. Very funny, Asher. You have to sign the rules in order for it to be binding.”

  “But your palm is currently below the statement that says ‘By signing below…’”

  “But it won’t be below that statement for the entirety of our vacation, and therefore you would be able to say that you didn’t agree to the rules.”

  He lets go of my hand, and throws his hands up into the air, signaling his innocence. “Alright, alright. I’ll sign where you want me to.” He takes the pen from the table and signs his name under mine. “Let the games begin.”

  -----

  Asher

  This is definitely going to be an interesting week. But what’s making me the most happy right now is the fact that Becca has been smiling and laughing this whole time. And although I would truly be willing to do whatever it is that she wants for the entire week, our new deal gives me the perfect excuse to keep Becca playing games and talking to me.

  “I suppose we should clean this up,” I suggest, trying to keep her in the room a little longer.

  “I can take care of it. You go on ahead and do whatever you were planning on doing before we started this game.”

  “Becca, stop.”

  She pauses, hands held mid-air, and looks up at me.

  “What I was planning on doing was spending time with you. So let me help you clean all of this up, and then we can decide what to do next together.”

  “Oh. O-Okay.” Instantly I can see Becca putting her wall back up around her. I wish I knew how to talk to her, to let her know that I’m here for her. That she’s still my best friend, no matter what happened last year.

  It seemed like she was able to open up a little bit while we were playing, and if I’m able to win any of the games we play, maybe my prize can be some answers about what happened between her and Trip, and why she’s still been kind of distant since they broke up.

  Speaking of questions I have for her, I wo
nder what she’ll choose to do for her first win…

  Chapter Three

  Becca

  As I’m putting the game board back on the shelf, I take a deep breath, then say while I’m still facing away from Asher, “Now that I only get to choose one thing, rather than choosing for the whole week, I’ve decided what I want for winning our first game.” There, I said it.

  When Asher doesn’t immediately respond, I turn back around to face him. He looks a little worried. But he shouldn’t be. “What would you like as your prize?”

  “You are going to take me into my favorite spot in town. It will take us about twenty minutes to drive there, but it’s totally worth it. I promise.”

  The worry leaves his face, but he still looks a little skeptical. “And where exactly am I taking you? The House Rules clearly state that you have to tell me.”

  I sigh. I want it to be a bit of a surprise. And I think I know exactly how I can get around this rule. “You are taking me to Rush.”

  “And what exactly is Rush?”

  I can’t help but grin, knowing this is going to drive him crazy. “Ah, ah, ah! The rules only say I have to tell you what I want, which is for you to take me to Rush. They don’t state that I have to explain it if you don’t know what it is.”

  A sound somewhere between a laugh and a grunt comes out of his mouth, while he shakes his head. “Well, if that’s how you want to play the game…”

  “I do.”

  “Then you’d better be prepared for an all-out war.”

  ***

  I make Asher drive us to town in his parents’ car. The reason is two-fold. Number one: I don’t want to drive my parents mini-van around if I don’t have to. Number two: I won fair and square, and my request was for him to take me. I direct him from the lake into town, and have him pull into the diagonal parking spaces in front of Rush. The sun is glaring off the windows of the shop, so Asher still can’t really see what it is.