It's your move

            His phone pinged the usual message: ‘It’s your move.’

            They’d been playing Words with Friends for weeks now but suddenly those three little words were loaded with significance. He opened up the Scrabble board wondering if the spot would still be there. He’d been waiting for his moment, eyeing up the options, hoping that this time would come. And now it had. He had a seven-letter word and the triple word score was there, exposed, his for the taking.

            He looked back at the WhatsApp message that she’d sent him last night. ‘It’s up to you,’ she’d said. ‘Just don’t keep me guessing x ’

            It was important that he got this right. Put the wrong words in the wrong places and it might be game over. He should take his time, choose carefully. But he’d left her wating long enough. She’d be flashing backwards and forwards, he knew, looking to see if his green light was on, waiting to find out if they were still friends - or more than friends. If they were going to carry on the game that they were playing or if they would move on to other words, other friends.

            If he went for the triple, he would beat her, for sure. He already had the advantage. He started to drag the letters onto the orange square, watching with satisfaction as the score mounted. His finger hovered over the ‘play’ button. And then he stopped. This wasn’t the game that he wanted to win. Instead, he dropped the tiles one by one into the only place where they could fit. He would only get ten points, but he knew that she would get the message.

            ‘Yes.’

            He pressed play and the notification changed again.

            ‘It’s their move.’