Zenon's Game Chapter 120

"Arturo had the video," Axel whispered to me.

"Who?"

"He's a junior, a center and he just got off the bench," Bryce recited Art's intro.

"Sounds like a dating profile," I muttered.

"Do any of you want to add something?" Zenon asked us, distracted by our conversation.

We all shook our heads. Zenon went back to Jake.

"This is a warning. Back off or else I won't be so calm next time. And next time I'll come to you without my girlfriend watching."

"She has her own free will," Jake said, "She can talk to whoever she wants."

"Yeah, she can. But it's not her I doubt," Zenon answered with a dark glare.

"I don't doubt me either," I added, not that anyone cared, "Why can't we all just get along?"

What started out as a nice surprise with Zenon hanging out at the mall until I finished my shift... had ended in a confrontation with his brother.

Before we left the mall, Axel promised to drop my car off at my home – since it was still outside his house.

"Gloria or I will drive it," Axel offered, "I think Gloria's driver license expired in 1905. But, hey, the roads haven't changed much."

"How old is she?" I gasped.

"Weren't there horse drawn carriages back then?" Bryce asked.

"See you guys tomorrow," Zenon waved them goodbye and escorted me to his nice car.

He gave me a kiss on the cheek before opening the door for me. I was happy he was taking me home. Actually, he was also taking himself home, since we lived opposite each other.

This time, when we arrived, it wasn't the usual goodbye.

He switched off the ignition, turned to me and with his charismatic smile, asked, "Your place or mine?"

Does every girl have that one guy they will crush on forever?

Because forever is a long time and time is something I never cared much about. But while I sat in Zenon's car, listening to his music and laughing at what he said, I wanted time to freeze.

Or at least slow down.

Just a little bit.

We drove into our neighborhood, and Zenon slowed the car down as we passed by a playground. It was deserted. Orange swings moved in the breeze and a seesaw creaked.

"I met Axel in that playground over twelve years ago," he reminisced, pointing outside, "He used to live near us, before his family moved to the other side of town."

I was imagining a baby Zenon and Axel meeting.

"You met Axel here?" I asked, surprised that a playground was their beginning.

I guess a summer camp was ours.

"Gloria was chaperoning," he smiled, "She was still looking after him back then."

Gloria's a real OG. She's taken care of the boys growing up - been there since the beginning.

"My dad used to take me and my sister here on Saturdays," I said, "He always made me do the monkey bars."

"That's why you have that upper body strength," Zenon joked and added, "You never talk about your dad. Where is he now?"

That changed the mood real quick. I'll admit I was a bit surprised that Zenon noticed that about me.

"Who?"

"Your dad."

Yeah. Who?

"He lost our address," I said. "He has insomnia, he's still at the store buying milk and he's stranded on a desert island."

All of the above.

Option A, B or C.

Truthfully, I wanted to lie. I wanted to say that my parents were divorced, and my father was living on the east coast with a new wife and a stepchild named Olaf that we visit once a year.

But the truth is embarrassing. He abandoned all responsibility. He just left and never left us with any closure.

How do I explain this to someone who has a protective (maybe even overprotective) father? I've only met Mr Albert a couple times – in some pretty awkward scenarios – and I saw how devoted he was to his son and his son's career.

So I didn't lie.

And, unfortunately, the truth isn't satisfying. It's a big fa-t question mark.

"He's where?" Zenon asked, "Candy? Candy, are you ok?"

Zenon had pulled over and gotten out of the car. He'd come over to my side and opened the door, taking my hands in his as he stared closely at me. I hadn't noticed any of this. I'd been lost in my thoughts.

"Olaf," I sighed.

"I know this is a very serious moment," Zenon said quietly, trying not to smile, "but you say the most random things sometimes."

"What?" I asked, snapping out of it.

"Who's Olaf?"

"If only there was an Olaf."

"Candy, what are you saying?"

"Zenon!" I responded, pecking him on the cheek and undoing my seatbelt, "I'm glad you stopped here. Let's go into the playground. I haven't been here in years."

I stepped onto the grass and fallen leaves crunched under my sneakers. I could hear Zenon follow me and I needed the fresh air. We'd gone from fun to serious in two seconds flat and I needed a moment.

I don't like to think about my dad anymore. It hasn't come up much, except when my mother reminisces about the old days. After he left, we weren't able to keep up with the lifestyle of this neighborhood.

Families like the Dawsons were comfortable in their worlds. And we hid ours. I'm grateful to my mother for managing to keep the house, even though there wasn't much in it.

"We lived opposite each other our whole lives," Zenon said, walking in the playground by my side, "And never once met. Can you believe that?"

I looked at him now. His strong and athletic build. His carefree and confident attitude. Zenon had fallen firmly into my life and I was grateful for that as well. I hope he wouldn't leave in the same way my...