Role Play

by Alison Hendricks

  "Fireball has a material component. Bat guano and sulfur. You have to have bat guano and sulfur to cast it."

  I still had no idea what any of that meant, but I could guess it was the rule he'd defended in front of the others.

  The bell rang on the shop door and a man stepped out. Tall, in his late thirties with long hair tied back in a ponytail. I'd seen him before and recognized him as one of the staff. He always smelled of incense, just like the shop itself.

  "Hey, I'm sorry about all that. The guys who usually play aren't used to worrying about reagents for spells," he said, giving David a pitying look. "I should have made you guys aware of some house rules."

  "It's not your fault," I was quick to say. "He'll be okay, I just need to get him home."

  David was still rocking, still repeating those rules. His hands were pressed tight against his noise-dampening headphones. Moving around the curb, I crouched down in front of him, careful not to invade his personal space.

  "You ready to go home, bud?"

  He kept repeating the words, then suddenly looked up at me, nodded sharply, and was on his feet in an instant. He went right to my car, climbing into the backseat like he always did despite me telling him repeatedly he could ride up front.

  "God, this is such a disaster," Ruth said, dragging a hand over her face. "I thought he'd enjoy it."

  "He just needs to find people that are sticklers for the rules like him," said the employee.

  "Any idea where we can find people like that?" I asked.

  "There's local gaming forums. Lot of open threads on Reddit for virtual games. I heard there are some games run at the Horizon, but not sure what kind."

  I nodded, filing away that information for later. The most important thing right now was to get David someplace familiar where he felt safe.

  "Thanks, man. I appreciate you being so cool about this," I said, clapping him on the shoulder.

  "I'll come back with you," Ruth said, and I could see the guilt clear in her eyes.

  I nodded, climbing into the driver's seat of my car. David was staring straight ahead, looking at nothing. In a spark of inspiration, I said, "Why don't I put Critical Role on the TV back there?"

  "Okay."

  I'd bought this van because it was the easiest way to haul around equipment -- and football players -- when I needed to. It'd come with the whole Wi-Fi hookup and the TV in the back, though I rarely used either. Navigating to YouTube, I found the channel and put it on one of the episodes I knew he'd watched the most.

  We drove in silence, outside of the sound of the TV. My mind drifted in so many directions. Not just to what could have happened if the other kids at Mega Comics had decided to get handsy or had been especially shitty, but also about my encounter with DorianGay that seemed so far away now.

  I wasn't ever going to see him again. I'd blown any hope of that when I'd rushed out of there without any sort of explanation. That was a shame, because while I wasn't interested in dating anybody, damned if there wasn't something there in the fucking department.

  It was for the best, though. Between David and my boys on the team, I had my hands full. I didn't have time for anything more than a random, one-night hookup.

  When we got home, Ruth made the soup David liked -- a nice matzo ball one our mom made -- while David retreated to his room. I checked on him a couple times, just listening through the door. I heard the sounds of the voice actors who played in Critical Role and knew he was likely just sitting up in bed, eyes glued to the screen. Ruth confirmed as much when she went to bring him his soup.

  By the time she came back out to the living room, I had my laptop balanced on my thighs and I was searching for "how to run a D&D game." The information I found was comprehensive, to say the least. Articles, videos, whole sites dedicated to the art of running a game.

  Ruth sat down beside me, and we watched several of the videos. My brain felt like it was seeping out of my skull somehow, and my frustration grew at not understanding... any of it, practically.

  "Are you getting any of this?" I asked, trying not to whine.

  She shook her head. "Nope. But I don't get the game, either. Just that you roll dice sometimes."

  I at least knew more than that. I actually knew a decent bit about D&D thanks to listening to David, but I didn't want to make her feel bad. Letting out a groan, I thumped my head against the back of the couch.

  "I don't know what to do. I'm afraid if we bring him to another group, it's going to be the same thing. But, he really wants to play, and I think it would be good for him."

  My sister was silent for a long moment, letting me wallow in my misery before she said, "What about Horizon? The guy at the comics store said they have games there, right?"

  "Yeah, but isn't that like an after-school literacy center or something?"

  She shrugged, so I looked up the organization on my laptop. Apparently, there were four of them throughout central Florida, and the one here in town was near the Boys' and Girls' Club by the high school. I'd driven by there before when we were trying to figure out what high school to place David in. That one wasn't a good fit. Way too many kids.

  Poking around the site, I found the organization's mission statement:

  Those who have the most to say have the fewest ways to say it.

  We are committed to providing opportunities for young people to express themselves through art, writing, and music. As these bastions of creativity disappear from our schools, Horizon strives to bring these outlets back to our community so the voices that need to be heard can be elevated to their proper place.

  Well that was certainly a good message, and I certainly felt like David qualified. He'd never struck me as the most creative individual, but he'd also never really been given the chance. And I was more than prepared to admit that his creativity probably just didn't look like mine.

  Searching some more, I found their page about Dungeons & Dragons.

  Every Friday and Saturday night, we host several different sessions of Dungeons & Dragons for those who wish to participate.

  Tabletop roleplaying games encourage creativity, cooperation, and problem-solving abilities in children of all ages, but are especially effective in helping young people express themselves.

  That sounded perfect, honestly. My eyes were drawn to the picture, and I couldn't help but smile at the group of teenagers being led by a dorky guy in full costume. There was something weirdly familiar about him, but I couldn't get a good view of his face from the grainy photo. He seemed fun, though, and if anyone would know how to integrate David into a group, it would be somebody like this.

  "I'll give this place a call tomorrow. If they can't get him in, maybe they can at least point us toward some resources."

  One way or another, I was determined to do this for David.

  9

  Elliot

  It felt like I was drifting through the next several days.

  After that incredible... I didn't even know what to call it. Experience? After that mind-blowing, sexuality-affirming experience, I stayed in that hotel room for hours. Sure, he'd run out in a hurry, but there genuinely seemed to be some kind of emergency, so I didn't feel as if he'd decided he made a mistake. It allowed me to just bask in the moment, though I had gotten a shower right after, because cooling cum was gross no matter how it happened or whose it was.

  As I'd soaped myself up, I imagined his hands all over my body. Large, powerful hands gripping my hips, squeezing my ass, stroking my dick. I'd gotten hard with no effort at all and used my soapy hand to jack it to thoughts of my mysterious stranger.

  I found myself wondering who he was. He was built like an athlete with the body of a god. What I'd seen of his face was chiseled, with a perfectly square jawline and beautiful blue eyes. Eyes filled with the most gorgeous fire, all of it directed toward me.

  It'd been a long time since anyone had wanted me that way. Pretty much since Barb and I stopped being reckless teenagers and started being responsible adults.
It felt good to do something a little reckless again; something that ran on passion more than any questions of sustainability.

  We'd both been there for a hot fuck and, as far as I was concerned, we'd gotten it. There didn't need to be anything more to it.

  So why did I spend the next few days wishing I'd gotten his number?

  I still had him on Grindr obviously, but I wanted something more personal than that. I didn't want to know him as HelpingHands. I wanted to know him. What he did for a living, the way he took his coffee, his stance on the issue of Alachua County teachers being criminally underpaid.

  It'd just been a hookup. I knew it was crazy to want anything more from him, or to think he might want the same from me. But, every time the bell rang and my students shuffled off to their next class, I found my mind drifting. I imagined him popping in to bring me lunch, or to sneak in a kiss and a cheeky grope before anyone saw. He seemed like the type to do something like that.

  You have no idea what type he is, I reminded myself. Over and over. Every time I had those thoughts.

  It didn't stop me from having them.

  "Oh, boy. He's gone off the deep end," I heard Tina say.

  Blinking, I looked up to see her waving a hand in front of my face.

  "Welcome back, El. Working on a new campaign?"

  It took me a moment to realize what she meant, which should have been my first clue I was seriously messed up. More often than not, when I zoned out in the teachers' lounge it was because I was planning encounters in my head for my next D&D game. Or sometimes because I was worrying over a student's performance on a state-mandated test, which we were fast-approaching again.

  Not this time, though.

  It would have been best to just laugh it off and let her believe that's what I was thinking about, but I couldn't do it. I suddenly felt like I was going to burst if I didn't tell someone.

  "I met a guy," I whispered, leaning across the table so she could hear me.

  Her brows shot up and I could see the delight shining in her eyes. "Really? Where? Is it someone I know? Oh, it's probably someone who works at Horizon, right?"

  A slight flush came to my cheeks, but I fessed up. "On Grindr."

  "Holy shit!"

  Her exclamation was louder than I wanted, and I shushed her, my gaze darting around to catch several other people staring at us. I smiled nervously, gave a little wave, and they eventually went back to what they were doing.

  "This is really big, Elliot," she said, reaching for my hand to give it a squeeze. "How do you feel?"

  "Sore," I admitted, and she choked back a laugh. "Who knew your ass would be sore days after a good pounding, right?"

  "Oh my God. I wish Keith was here to hear this."

  "I don't. He'd start asking way too many questions, and probably try to get me to hook up with someone else tonight."

  Which I immediately realized I wasn't interested in doing. Fucking a stranger had been fun. It was the type of thrill my rapidly-approaching-middle-age self could handle, but it wasn't the kind of life I wanted.

  "Yeah, you're right," she said, making a face. "I've learned way more about his sex life than I've wanted. I don't need to hear him ask you about yours." She gave my hand another squeeze, her smile infectious. "So are you going to see him again?"

  "Oh... no, I don't think so. I mean probably not, right? It was just a one-time thing. No strings attached."

  I wondered how I must sound to her, because to my own ears, I sounded like the least convincing person on the planet. Considering how much she narrowed her eyes, I could guess she agreed.

  "You've been zoning out for days, El. You seriously expect me to believe you're fine with a one-night-stand?"

  I sighed, leaning back in my chair. The deli sandwich I'd brought for lunch sat mostly uneaten, one of the tomatoes trying to make a valiant escape out of the side.

  "I kinda have to be, don't I? That's what you sign up for when you agree to hook up with someone from Grindr." I shrugged a little. "It was totally anonymous. No names. I even made us both wear face coverings, which ended up being hot as hell-- but I'm getting off track"

  "Wait, what?"

  I barreled right past the need to explain that and into, "We didn't exchange contact information. The only place I can talk to him is Grindr, and I doubt he'd appreciate that. He's probably blocked me already."

  He hadn't as of that morning, which was the last time I'd stopped myself from sending a message.

  "It just seems like you're pretty hung up on this guy, Elliot." There was a fierce sincerity in her eyes; something made manifest when she squeezed my hand one more time. "I don't want you to get hurt."

  "Pursuing something that isn't meant to be pursued is going to hurt a lot more than just fantasizing about it," I said with a small smile. "Besides, it's my own fault. Barb and I met in high school. She was my first, and we got married right after college. I don't think I know how to do casual hookups. At least I've had the experience now, right?"

  It felt like some bi badge of honor to say I'd finally fucked a guy. I would have been bi either way but knowing it and knowing it were two separate things in my mind.

  Tina wasn't convinced. She didn't push me anymore, though. We talked about our students and the upcoming testing schedule. When Keith wandered in later, we forged a silent pact not to tell him about my hot Grindr encounter. At least not yet.

  When I got home after a long evening spent grading essays and writing out lesson plans, I checked Grindr again, pulling up my message history with HelpingHands. He hadn't blocked me yet, but he also hadn't sent anything else.

  I started to write "I had a good time the other night" three separate times, deleting it in a mad rush before I could hit send. I needed to just delete the app, or at least that account, but I couldn't force myself to do it.

  Instead, I just closed it down and spent the rest of the night fantasizing about what could have been.

  10

  Reuben

  "We're just going to watch."

  I'd pulled my car into the Horizon parking lot ten minutes ago and had spent the majority of that time trying to reassure my nephew.

  "Just going to watch," I told him again, "I promise."

  "And you can't break a promise."

  "That's right."

  I wanted to add that if he decided he'd rather join in than just watch, he could do that too, but I didn't want to make him feel like I was pushing for it. This really was just a test run to see how they played, what the other players were like, and whether or not the DM would support David's preferred way of playing the game.

  I'd talked to the Director a few days ago, and she'd assured me that there was room for David at this program. Several of the other participants fell somewhere on the spectrum, and she'd said it wasn't at all uncommon for the players to fixate on the rules. The DM who ran these games, Elliot, apparently had the patience of ten saints and plenty of experience running a D&D campaign with all types of players.

  I'd been hopeful about it when I got off the phone with her. Then I'd talked to David, and he'd immediately shut it down. I understood why. He didn't want a repeat of what happened at the comics store. After talking about it, I was able to get him to consider it, after which we moved to the compromise stage where he said he'd go, but only to watch.

  I figured that was where we were going to stay for a while, and I was fine with it. Watching would be good for both of us. Maybe I could pick up some things in person that I couldn't get from the rulebooks or from watching seasoned professionals play on a tiny screen.

  Opening up the car door, I stepped out and waited for David. He had his headphones with him, though they were still around his neck. These days he took them everywhere in case there was just too much going on. They seemed to help, and I would sure as shit fight anybody who tried to tell him he was "rude" for wearing them indoors.

  Hopefully, that wouldn't be an issue here.

  Looking up at the building with its nice, pleasa
nt landscaping, tinted windows to protect from the sun, and a sign that looked pretty outdated -- and honestly geared toward much younger kids, with that hand-painted look -- I started to feel nervous. What if this place wasn't a good fit? Just because they had autistic kids here didn't mean they knew how to accommodate every kid with autism. That was one of the things the family counselor had drilled into me and Ruth. There wasn't a "one size fits all" solution. David was his own person with his own triggers and his own way of coping. We needed to work with him to find those things and help him in the most supportive way possible.

  I wondered what she'd think of this but decided not to dwell on it too long.

  "You ready, bud?" I asked, calling over my shoulder.

  David looked up at me, then nodded, a look of determination on his face. I opened the door and held it for him to come in, at which point we were immediately greeted by a big, circular desk with lots of literature around it.

  "Hello, have you been here before?" a young woman asked, smiling at David and I.

  "Uh, no. I called earlier in the week. They said we could spectate the Dungeons & Dragons game?"

  "Oh, of course." She pushed her rolling chair away from the desk and came around to show us toward a side door. "It's through here, allllll the way down the hall, last door on the left. I'll let them know you're coming."

  "Thanks," I said, dipping my head to her before I pushed open the door.

  The hallway reminded me of an elementary school. It even smelled that way, somehow, and I half expected to see bulletin boards with construction paper creations. I'd gotten the impression it was mostly older kids who attended this youth center, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe David was just going to be lost in a sea of eight-year olds or something.