“What are you working on?” he asks from behind me. I desperately want to turn off my screen, to push him away, hide this part of myself. Would it change the way he sees me to know I’ve spent the past three hours reworking an imaginary tax plan for my imaginary country to make my imaginary citizens happy? Austin already thinks I’m pathetic. I don’t need to add the final nail in the nerd coffin.

“Nothing. Just a game.”

Just a game.

Yep, just a game that’s an embarrassingly important part of my life. A game that someone like you would never understand because you’ve never had to hide behind a computer screen to feel powerful.

“A game? You seem pretty intense to just be playing a game,” Austin challenges. “What’s it called?”

“Rule Them All. It’s something I’ve been playing for a while.”

“How long is a while?”

“Seven years.”

“Holy shit! That’s a long time.”

There it is. The judgment.

My cheeks flush with anger and a little bit of shame. I push back from my desk, stand as tall as I can, cross my arms and prepare to fight.

“I don’t expect you to understand, but I need to finish this tonight. I didn’t realize how late it’d gotten. You should probably go.” My words are terse and it catches him off guard. I see a flash of something resembling pain in his eyes and my resolve is shaken. I don’t want to quit my game, but I don’t want him to leave either. I want to have my cake and eat it too.

“You don’t want to watch me play a stupid game all night anyway…” I trail off in a pitiful pout.

He glances back and forth between me and the front door, as if debating if he wants to leave. My heart stops as I wait for him to decide this evening’s fate.

“How about we make a deal?” he asks.

“A deal?”

“I’ll make dinner. Even gamers eat, right?”

I blush at being called a gamer. I mean, I totally am, but I don’t want Austin to think of me that way. I want him to think I’m normal. I swallow the lump in my throat and nod.

“And after dinner, you teach me how to play.”

I can’t control my scoff. “You want me to teach you how to play?”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s boring.” It’s true. Parts of Rule Them All are painfully boring. Did I mention spending the past three hours rewriting a tax plan?

“You seem to enjoy it just fine.”

“Yeah, well, I’m weird, remember?” My self-deprecation earns me a laugh.