I bite my lip, trying not to smile.
Josh scans the directions for a moment, obviously completely annoyed. “Jesus, Kat, I figured you’d playedallthe board games.” Hereads again for a long moment. “Okay, well, it looks ridiculously simple. Seems like we just lay tiles on the board to spell words and rack up points for the letters. Nothing to it.”
“Okay. You go first,” I say.
Josh pauses briefly, considering the tiles on his rack, and then lays down three letters:D-U-M.
“Dum?”
He shrugs sheepishly. “I don’t have ‘B-S-H-I-T’ on my rack,” he says. His eyes flicker with apology. “I was a totaldumbshitfor not telling you about Seattle,” he says softly.
I nod emphatically. “Yeah, you were.”
“I know—I just said that,” he says. “Okay, that’s six points for me. It’s your turn.”
I assess the seven tiles on my rack and lay down three:A-S-S. “I don’t have ‘H-O-L-E,’” I say, smirking. “How many points does that get me?”
Josh is clearly stifling a smile.
“Come on,” I say. “How many points?”
Josh looks at the directions again. “Three. But I think you should be awarded triple points for being one hundred percent right.”
“Agreed. Okay, your turn,” I say, jutting my chin at him. “Play Scrabble, Josh.”
“I think I’m supposed to pick three more tiles to replace the ones I already played,” he says. He picks up the directions sheet again. “Yeah. It says here we both pick tiles to replace the ones we’ve played.”
We each pick three additional tiles and, after brief consideration, Josh lays his new word onto the board:W-O-O.
“Woo?” I ask. “Like ‘woo-hoo!’?”
“No. Like, ‘woo,’” he says. “Like ‘I’m gonnawooyou, Miss Katherine’—like, you know, old timeywooing.” He flashes a charming smile. “As in, ‘You better brace yourself, Miss Katherine, because I’m gonnawoothe fucking shit out of you.’”
“Oh my goodness, sir. You’re gonnawoomeshitless?”
“Yes, I am, m’lady.”
“Well, sir, I’m not completely sure I’m ready to be wooed shitless, to be perfectly honest. What would people say?”
“You don’t get to decide. You’re gettin’ wooed shitless whether you like it or not.”
My pulse is pounding in my ears.
“Okay. Quit stalling,” Josh says. He motions to the game board again. “It’s your turn. Play Scrabble, Kat.”
I bite my lip and look at my tiles, considering my move. But none of the letters on my rack are calling to me, so I begin rearranging the tiles Josh used to spell W-O-O.
“No, babe, you’re supposed to use new tiles from your—” Josh begins, but he abruptly stops talking when he sees the word I’ve spelled with his tiles.
“Ow,” I say softly, reading the new word I’ve created.
Josh’s face twists with what appears to be sincere remorse.
“Youreallyhurt my feelings, Josh,” I say. “I felt totally rejected—like I’m in this relationship all by myself.”
Josh opens his mouth to speak but apparently thinks the better of it. He begins furiously peeking at the down-facing tiles on the table, apparently looking for something specific, and when he’s found his desired tiles, he lays a word onto the game board:S-O-R-R-A.
“Sorra?” I ask.
