My intimidation tactics don’t seem to be working, though, as my little brother is distracted by a large balloon dog in a parade on TV. “Trey, I’m about to take one of your pawns.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I thought you wanted to practice!” “I wanna watch the parade,” he says, angling his body toward the television, essentially letting me know the game was over. “You forfeit?” “What’s that mean?” “You quit?” “I’m not a quitter,” he says, getting upset at me. “Can’t we just play later?” “I guess so.” I return my rook to the square it had been on and carefully pick up the board, carrying it into my room and putting it on one of my worktables. After making a second trip to pick up the pieces we’d each already conquered, I sit back on the floor by Trey. “I thought Max was coming over today,” he says, confused. “Yeah, buddy, he was supposed to, but he went away for awhile, remember? He went to Utah last weekend.” “When will he be back?”
