Spoons and Hands

Caroline, our official game master started to introduce us to a new card game called Spoons. Yes, it still involves cards, but now there are spoons too. As she enthusiastically introduced it, which by the way is her own version of the game, I couldn't help but notice Jake stealing a glimpse at me. I tried to do the right thing by ignoring him. I don't want to betray Caroline, as more than just a cousin—she's like an older sister to me. Ignoring Jake's gaze, I listened intently.

Her version of the rules was a bit different from the classic, but it sounded simple and fun. Here's how it works: we removed all face cards from the deck and placed the spoons in the center—one fewer than the number of players. Everyone got four cards. The goal? Collect four of a kind. The game starts with the Starter drawing a card from the deck. Players pick a card to discard and pass it to their left. This continues until someone has four of a kind and grabs a spoon. Once a spoon is taken, everyone else rushes to grab the remaining ones that is why it is preferable to do it in silence and undetected because this is an elimination like the Trip to Jerusalem game. If you're slow, you're out. The last player with a spoon wins.

Caroline's explanation wrapped up and we all eagerly took our seats around the table, the spoons gleaming temptingly in the center. Jake and I found ourselves beside each other. As the game unfolded, the air was filled with frantic card swapping, laughter, and the occasional squeal of victory. Jake and I were both intensely focused, but every time our hands and shoulders brushed or our eyes met, it felt like a spark that defied the playful competition around us.

As the final round of Spoons reached its climax, Jake and I were caught in a fierce competition. With a swift move, he snatched the last spoon just as I lunged for it, my heart pounding in sync with the frantic scramble. A gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it. Our hands collided, and for a heartbeat, time seemed to freeze. His touch was electrifying, our fingers brushing and then intertwining as he gently held my hand.

Caroline's cheer and the others' laughter faded into the background as Jake leaned in, his voice low. "I didn't think I'd be so glad to lose."

I swallowed, feeling a surge of emotion. "Not sure if I can relate to that." I managed to reply, my heart pounding and simply gloating.

The game had ended, but the tension between us lingered. Caroline was too busy celebrating my victory to notice the subtle shift between us. As the celebration continued around us, our hands remained intertwined below the table, a secret promise between us. Jake's grip on my hand tightened. My heart raced as I looked up at him, caught between exhilaration and the weight of our unspoken connection. 

"I am really sorry, Caroline..." my voice barely a whisper, sensing the weight of the moment.

Jake's gaze softened, and he squeezed my hand reassuringly. "Don't be," he murmured. "Sometimes, things like this happen when you least expect them."

In that fleeting moment, everything else seemed irrelevant—only the forbidden connection between us mattered. I knew that whatever came next would be far more complicated than a simple game.

As the night drew to a close, Jake whispered lingering with a promise. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered before slipping out the door.

I watched him go, the weight of our secret desire settling in. Caroline, noticing my lingering gaze, patted my shoulder and said, "Why don't you stay the night? It's late beside, your father is too drunk to drive home."

I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation. "Why not, I'd like that," I said softly.

I am feeling lucky I packed an extra set of clothes this morning, but anxiety quickly set in. Did Caroline notice me watching Jake so intently? Was she getting a hint? Despite my unease, we all headed upstairs and set up the guest room in Uncle Rick's room.

As I settled into bed, my mind was consumed by thoughts of Jake. I knew that tomorrow would bring its own set of challenges as we navigated the complexities of our newly forbidden connection.