The bright lights of my LED computer monitor washed away any sleepiness after supper with the family. Which was good, because I had major work to do.
Desperation was calling my name.
Pulling up the Battlegrounds app and logging into my secret profile name, CurrerBFighting, I scanned the names of the players on my Friends list. They were all local players. Most went to Rock Valley High and a few lived in the towns nearby. They all thought I was some homeschooled freaky genius kid. It was the perfect cover. And possibly, it was exactly what I needed to get into this tournament.
Any participants in the tournament had to live within an hour’s drive of Rock Valley. I slowly searched through the list of names, but after an hour, I determined every name on my list was a dud. Not a single guy I was connected to either wasn’t man enough to oppose the Corrigan brothers or sucked hardcore at Battlegrounds. The situation was truly starting to look desperate.
The inbox icon in the upper right corner of the game wiggled and a dinging noise came through the speakers. Battlescar13’s chat box popped up on the bottom, his words appearing on my screen.
Battlescar13: Did you drop off the planet?
Regret flooded my gut. My pointer hovered over the chat box as I considered whether to reply. It didn’t seem fair to ghost my online buddy. But then again, I hadn’t known until only last week who that online buddy really was. And talking with a Corrigan brother online was like playing with fire.
Battlescar13: Dude — I can see your active status. I know you’re online.
An unbidden smile played at my lips. Touché. Maybe I could afford to at least reply one time.
CurrerBFighting: No, I’m still on planet Earth. Sorry for checking out. Had some personal stuff.
I stared at the chat box for a few seconds, my heart thudding painfully. It was so hard to combine the image of Gabriel and the guy I’d played Battlegrounds with for the last few months. The guy that had told me about his first gaming experience on a Super Nintendo, who’d swapped jokes with me on a daily basis, dreamed up plans to attend Comic-Con, and listened to me occasionally complain about my sister taking over the house with art supplies. It just didn’t seem possible that they could be the same person.
Battlescar13: That’s cool. Did you see my message about the tournament? You could dominate! Tell me you’re entering.
I shook my head sadly. He had no idea how much I’d love to dominate that contest. To rub it in Michael’s face that a girl could game and win that down payment he had planned for a stupid motorcycle. But at this rate, it seemed more likely that I was going to have to eat crow. Still, that moment wasn’t now.
If it had been a week ago, I would’ve jumped at asking Battlescar13 to be my partner. He was the best of the best. We worked seamlessly together. Half of my level-ups were due to the campaigns we’d done together. We’d reached expert status not that long ago, eliminating a squadron of Elvish lords with our warriors. But that was before he’d basically revealed his identity and ruined everything. Still, I wondered if he’d already entered the competition with his brother.
CurrerBFighting: I’m thinking about it. You entering?
Battlescar13: Yep! That prize money is so mine. I’ve got big plans.
I slunk into my chair. So that was it. Gabriel had joined already, and I was officially the last man standing. No partner for me. My plans were over.
I was done.
“Hey, sweetheart!” Mom stuck her head in the doorway to my room and shot me a smile. “Did you get your homework done?”
Despite twelve hours in surgery today, she still looked like perfection. Perfectly curled brown hair that fell attractively over her shoulders, lipstick that hadn’t budged beneath a mask, and the thick black mascara that made her green eyes pop. Mom was the kind of woman who made guys break their necks when she walked by. Confidence oozed off of her, which only seemed to make her spell more potent. It was hard to take her anywhere.
Dad once told me I reminded him of Mom when she was younger, but I couldn’t see it. My older sister, Trina, seemed to take after our mom more than me. She was the beautiful one. The soft, sweet, feminine one who rocked at art. I was the awkward, geeky girl hiding under the large t-shirts and baggy jeans. The only thing we all shared were the same shade of emerald green eyes.
“Yep, all done.” I leaned back in my ergonomic desk and gave her a tight-lipped smile. “AP History took a while, but it’s all done.”
“That’s my girl.” She studied me for a long moment, her brow furrowing. “Everything all right? You seem a little down.”
I sighed and rubbed the spot between my eyebrows. Leave it to the surgeon to notice every finite detail of her daughter’s life. Most parents would’ve happily been on their way, satisfied not to worm their way into the twisted workings of their teen’s mind. Not my mom. She had a special interest in it. Sometimes, I wondered if she wished she could slice right inside to my brain and see what was going on for herself. Typical surgeon attitude. Slice and dice until everything was clear.
“I’m fine, Mom.” I did my best to give her a bright smile, but I could tell I’d failed by the concerned expression on her face. “It’s just this stupid tournament thing for the club. No girl’s ever won it and there’s this jerk at school who thinks that girls shouldn’t game.”
Fire burst alive in Mom’s eyes. If there was one topic that riled her up, it was the suppression of women. She’d battled her way into a profession that for a long time had been dominated by men, so she took extra pride in that battle.
“You’re going to show him he’s wrong, right?” Her eyes flashed dangerously. “If anyone can do it, my baby girl can. Girls can game if they want to.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said, patting her hand. “And the plan was to decimate him, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen. I need a partner to join, but no one’s available.”
She frowned. “None of your friends can help? What about Lexi or Charlotte?”
Tilting my head back, I let out a belly laugh. Yeah, right. Lexi and Charlotte on Battlegrounds. It was hilarious. “It’s not exactly their scene, Mom. We’d be pulverized in the first round.”