Page 72 of Played By Design

I shake my head. “Not leaving. If I time this right, I can harvest my eggplants and walk through the Twilight Woods on the way to the market. The blue flower will be in bloom, and if I pick it at the right time, it will trigger the mayor’s dialogue window.”

My foot starts tapping. “If I miss it for the seventh time, I’m going to throw this thing through the wall.”

Kain stays beside me, silent.

“It unlocks a new branch with the mayor,” I explain, leaning forward as my foot taps a frantic rhythm on the floor.

“The cellar key, the antique watering can, and double XP for all summer crops. It’s a huge boost.” I grip my handheld tighter. “This is important, Kain.”

“But the fries will be cold.” He leans down, his hand covering my knee, warm and steady enough to still the motion. “How about Stackers tomorrow?”

“I want it tonight. If it’s cold, I’ll microwave it.”

“You never like microwaved fries.”

“I’ll make an exception.”

“Okay, fine.” He releases my knee and runs a hand through my blond hair before he heads for the stairs.

Keys jingle from the hook by the door. The deadbolt gives a soft clack and the garage door rumbles open.

The hum of my handheld fills the sudden quiet.

The in-game time counts down toward sunset.

The flower blooms at dusk, and the market closes as soon as night sets. If I miss the flower, I have to wait another in-game week for it to bloom again. If I miss the market, I can’t sell my eggplants until morning.

I could go to the woods now and harvest after dark, but I hate wasting steps.

My foot starts tapping again. The silence in the house closes around me, but if I stand to put on music right now, I’ll get distracted and miss my window.

I wiggle, letting the beanbag chair swallow me.

Ninety-nine percent.

“Come on.”

The number refuses to move.