Twelfth Knight

6. Beat Them at Their Own Game

“What’s the deal with you and Orsino?” I ask Olivia when she comes over to my house for our monologue. (Instagram was her weapon of choice for getting in touch with me, no surprise there. Needless to say, her grid is flawless.) “Everything good there, or…?”

“Whoa, Vi. Can’t I take off my coat and stay awhile before we delve into my personal life?” she jokes, letting her bag fall to the floor. “Hey,” she adds to Bash, who I didn’t even notice was in the living room. He does this thing sometimes where he finds a sunny spot and lies there like a labradoodle.

“Hey,” he replies, lifting a hand and closing his eyes.

“Sorry, I just… you know, all the rumors,” I say. “So if you want to talk about it, I’m around.” That, or Jack seemed genuinely pathetic and I really don’t want to deal with the homecoming volunteers, which includes Antonia. Take your pick.

“There’s really nothing to talk about,” Olivia says, and looks at our dining table, which is covered in my mom’s notes and two weeks’ worth of unrolled Muay Thai hand wraps. “Can I set my stuff here, or…?”

“Sorry, yeah.” I kick out a chair. “Hungry? Thirsty?”

“I’m good.” She glances over at Bash again. “Sebastian, right?”

“Or Bastian, or Bash. Whatever strikes your fancy.” He cracks one eye. “And you are Olivia Hadid,” he observes. Not a question.

She politely half laughs. “Yes—”

“And I, too, would like to know what’s going on with Jack Orsino,” Bash concludes. “But unlike my nosy sister, I can wait until you’ve been hydrated and fed.”

“She just said she’s not hungry or thirsty,” I call back to him.

“Yet,” he replies ominously, and to her credit, this time Olivia’s laugh is real.

“We’re just taking a break,” she tells us. “No big deal. I need to focus on school and stuff.”

Well, that’s simple enough. Unsurprising that Jack can’t understand it, given that he has never decided to focus on school or anything that wasn’t football, but there we go. I’ve officially held up my end of the bargain and now homecoming is his problem.

He’s right. This has been beneficial, so I waltz into the kitchen to fetch myself some congratulatory juice.

“Does ‘stuff’ include ritual séances? Demon summoning?” I hear Bash ask Olivia. “That’s what I’ve always assumed the coven of cheerleaders does between episodes of sports attendance.”

“No demons yet,” Olivia assures him. “Just the usual blood sacrifice.”

“I knew it.” From the fridge I watch him stand up, wandering over to where Olivia’s removing her books from her school bag. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“The Bard himself,” I confirm, returning with my glass of orange juice.

“Solely the Bard of Avon at best,” Bash corrects me. “Robert Burns is the Bard.”

“Wonderful, Sebastian,” I tell him. “Thank goodness you told us before we embarrassed ourselves.”

“I should think so.” He tips an imaginary hat at Olivia. “Farewell, then. I’ll leave you to your recitations.”

With that, he disappears up the stairs.

“He’s funny,” Olivia comments. “I like him.”

“Bash has always been the likable one,” I agree, and she glances quizzically at me.

“Yeah?”

“Well, it’s a crucial part of his personality,” I explain, shoving aside my bag of hand wraps. “He requires constant forgiveness. But you always forgive him, because how could you not?”

“Mm,” she agrees, with a knowing half smile. “And which one are you, if he’s the likable one?”

“The one who’ll show up on time,” I say, picking up my copy of the script. “Which is more than I can say for some people.”

“Definitely.” She’s still looking at me funny, so I try to make conversation.

“Do you have siblings?”

“Two sisters. One’s eight and the other’s ten.”

“Oh, wow. That young?”

She shrugs. “My parents decided they weren’t done, I guess.”

“Are you… close with them?”

“Well.” Her lips twist thoughtfully. “I’m a bit more like the third parent than the third child, if I’m being honest,” she says, and the furrow between her brows suggests that’s not something she’s proud of admitting.

“Oh.” It feels personal, and I don’t want to leave her hanging. “I guess sometimes I feel a bit like a parent myself. Or just generally older. Like, too old.” Old enough to see things other people ignore. Old enough to be routinely disappointed.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Olivia says, drumming her fingers on the table. “Expectations.”

Before she said that, I would have thought it was nice to be a beloved cheerleader like Olivia, which is what I sometimes think people want me to be. (Except my mom, who graciously allows me to live my life unencumbered by gender constraints.) But then I consider all the AP dudebros who only wanted to get into her pants, as if she only amounts to one thing.

“Well, look, I’m sorry I asked about Jack,” I tell her honestly. “I just noticed you guys seemed weird with each other.” I hesitate, and then, “Nothing’s, like, wrong, is it? He didn’t… do anything, or…?”

“Oh gosh, no. No, never. Jack’s a great guy,” she assures me, and her insistence is so urgently fond that I’m starting to doubt what she told me earlier; how easily and emotionlessly she said it was “just” a break. “I know he’s a lot sometimes,” she adds. “You know, the whole Duke Orsino persona and stuff—”

“And stuff,” I mutter in agreement.

“Right,” she acknowledges with a thin smile. “But under the mask is a lot more, I guess.”

“A lot more than ‘a lot’?” I ask doubtfully, because my initial thought is: I’ve heard this before. You know, about boys. Boys who are jerks or clowns whose girlfriends think they’re secretly deep. It’s a classic story! People love giving boys the benefit of the doubt, or ascribing layers to them that don’t actually exist. It’s like when a girl says a guy is funny or smart when really, he’s just… tall.

But Olivia only laughs. “Okay, okay, you’re not a fan, I get it. I won’t try to convince you. Shall we, Romeo?” she prompts instead, nudging the script in my hands as if she’s more than happy to change the subject.

Maybe Jack’s right to wonder what’s going on here. There seem to be a lot of things Olivia isn’t saying… but that’s her business. And I have an answer.

My end of the deal? Fulfilled.

“‘Let me be ta’en / let me be put to death,’” I reply, and she smiles at me.

“A little romantic, right?” she says. “‘I am content, so thou wilt have it so.’”

“That’s my line.”

“I’m just trying to convince you. He’s saying he’s willing to die if that’s what she wants.”

“Exactly, it’s a death wish. They’re teenagers!”

“You’re lying,” she says, scrutinizing me for a second.

I roll my eyes. “Fine. They’re pretty words. And it’s a thoughtful offer.”

“Meaning…?” she prompts.

“Meaning I can appreciate a man who’ll die if I tell him to.”

She elbows me, rolling her eyes. “Meaning…?”

“Meaning,” I grit out with a sigh, “fine. You can have this one.”

She grins at me.

“Thank you,” she assures me, flipping her ponytail over one shoulder. “I’ll take it.”

After Olivia leaves, I bypass whatever new annoyance fills my inbox and sign in to Twelfth Knight, ready (as usual) to stab someone in a way that won’t get me arrested or expelled. I figure combat’s my best bet and select the Camlann arena, which is by far the most infamous one in the game. Legend has it that King Arthur falls in the Battle of Camlann, so in the game’s lore, only the best of the best find themselves there. There’s a short queue, but it’s better than wasting my time with amateurs in Gaunnes.

Like always, the list of people queuing up for the Camlann arena is a mix of recognizable usernames (ahem, people I’ve beaten before) and totally meaningless letters and numbers. Only, tonight I notice again that there’s one that seems… a bit too familiar.

DUKEORSINO12.

Wait, so when I thought I imagined that—it was real?

“Absolutely not,” I say aloud, slamming my laptop shut. My heart is pounding, like I just got caught somehow. Like he’s in the room with me. Is it possible I somehow summoned him? I swear, it’s like every time I turn a corner, he’s there. Even in my own head.

No. No way. Clearly I’m living some kind of chronic hallucination. I should go to sleep.

No, I can’t possibly sleep, this is too weird.

Maybe I misread it?

I open my laptop again, taking a breath.

DUKEORSINO12.

Nope. I didn’t imagine it. Still, I stare at the username, trying to think how this could be wrong. I mean… it has to be, right? As far as I know, Jack Orsino would rather drink poison than enter a gaming world like this one. I don’t keep tabs on what’s cool with Messaline’s 1% given that, you know, I don’t care, but this seems pretty off-brand. That, and nobody uses their real identities in RPGs. If that’s actually Jack, he’s clearly got some severe form of narcissism and should very urgently seek help.

But that nickname. It’s too specific. It can’t be coincidence, can it?

So I can’t help it—I look. I scour, borderline stalk. His stats are interesting. He’s lost a few battles but gained plenty of skills. A lot of skills, actually, like he’s actively collecting them, though I guess I don’t know what else he’d be doing in a MMORPG. I doubt he’s out here trying to become an Arthurian tradesman or treat this like his own personal fantasy world.

I’m about to exit the realm when a notification pops up in the corner of my laptop screen, my phone buzzing at the same time. It’s a text message from Antonia. She sent me something yesterday about the new quest the group is doing, which I liked, but didn’t answer.

fyi, I don’t think I’m going to MagiCon this year,she says.

My heart flips.

what?

oh, so now you respond. how convenient.

Oh good, we’re about to fight. My hands shake a little, involuntarily, and I can feel a cool sweat start to break out under my arms. I hate fighting with Antonia. Other people don’t matter—I can obviously hold my own in any argument—but there’s something about Antonia. It’s like over the years I’ve given her all my arrows—all my secrets and things I don’t want the rest of the world to see—and now I’m terrified she’ll shoot me with them.

i’ve answered all your messages,I say.

barely

i just needed time to cool off, okay?

from what????

I grit my teeth and change the subject. why aren’t you going to MagiCon?

We volunteer together every year. It’s the best way to ensure you get a ticket; conventions are expensive and they also fill up fast, especially since geek culture started going mainstream with franchise superhero films and stuff. You basically have to get on the list a year in advance.

seriously?she asks.

My laptop blinks in the corner, a notification from Twelfth Knight, and I hit Ignore.

seriously what?

You’re not going to answer the question?

Before I can answer, she continues, Just because you’re pissed off with leon and murph you’re going to take this out on me?

How did this get so weird? Maybe I should have told her earlier that I was upset she didn’t take my side when things happened with Matt Das. Or that it hurt my feelings that she stayed with the ConQuest group even after she saw how they treated me. Or maybe it was the thing with George, or the subtweet, or maybe it’s everything, but when you break things down to their parts, they all seem too small. Like maybe she wouldn’t get it even if I could explain it aloud.

the problem with you vi is that you’re selfish,she says, and keeps typing. A series of messages:

I take your side all the time, and for what?

you know how many times I’ve had to defend you?

countless

believe it or not those guys aren’t assholes to you for no reason

you’re a bitch to them and then you wonder why they hate you

you can’t exactly blame them for not wanting you to be in charge

I swallow, a familiar thump of pain quickly hardening to rage.

you think they like you because you’re NICE?I type back to her, my hands still shaking. they tolerate you because you do whatever they tell you. you’re perfectly happy to let them step all over you

yeah, I hear that’s my problem,Antonia says. apparently I love being stepped on. probably the same reason I’m friends with you.

I stare at the screen.

That’s what she thinks? About me? About our friendship? I tell Antonia the truth. All my truths. After seeing everything, my ins and outs, this is what she thinks I am?

I’m still staring at the screen when the Twelfth Knight notification becomes a flashing countdown in the corner.

10… 9… 8…

“Shit,” I say aloud, switching to the game, because apparently when I meant to hit Ignore, I hit Accept instead. As in accept challenge. As in I’m about to enter a match in… five seconds,

4… 3… 2…

The screen flashes brightly and I’m inside the Camlann arena. Surrounding me are two mages, a sphinx, two fae, a demon, a page, and two other knights, one of which looks very familiar.

If I were in a different mood, I might find his character hilarious. He’s used our green-and-gold school colors and the fleur-de-lis of our school crest. Even his avatar looks like him: dark-skinned and tall, dressed in armor and chain mail, and carrying my own signature weapon, a thick-hilted broadsword.

Antonia’s message window flashes again, the start of a message appearing, but what can she possibly have left to say to me? Nothing I want to hear right now. I take out one of the fae easily, then one of the mages. Elsewhere in the match, “Duke Orsino” seems to be battling with surprising proficiency against the demon. The sphinx tries to use one of their trickery spells on me, but I have immunity; a truth spell from a relic, the Ring of Dispell, takes care of that, while the other mage seems to have dispatched the remaining fae.

Who’s left? The page, one other knight, the last mage. Oh, and maybe–Jack Orsino, of course. He’s out of sight and I take cover, waiting among the castle ruins. Anyone who wants to follow me in here will need illumination spells, which I have.

Before I can position myself to reach one of the towers, the chat flashes at the bottom of my screen.

DUKEORSINO12 would like to chat with you.

Of course he would, I think with a grumble—until I remember that he doesn’t know it’s me. As far as he knows, I’m Cesario, a stranger on the internet.

I click the window, which opens to a simple message. One word.

DUKEORSINO12:allies?

He’s typing, and then:

DUKEORSINO12:just for this battle.

and then? I type back.

DUKEORSINO12:every man for himself

Fair enough. It’s not an unusual request, minus the fact that if I accept, it’ll be the second deal I’ve made with Jack Orsino in the same week. Unprecedented, frankly. If he knew he’d gotten me to agree to something twice in a row—

But he doesn’t, I remind myself. He has no idea it’s me. And considering that beating him right now would be exactly what my day needs…

“Okay, Orsino,” I murmur to myself, typing back to him in the chat. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I’ll say this for whatever nerd dreamt up Twelfth Knight, presumably in their parents’ basement somewhere: it’s thorough. There’s not a detail left unattended; the castle ruins of the Camlann arena look convincingly real, and the trees in the wood even sway a little in the breeze. The font in the chat is a little too Medieval Times-y, like the Comic Sans of geekdom, but even that is only moderately distracting.

The other knight, some meaningless combination of numbers and letters, types back to me in the chat:

C354R10:I’ll take the mage

I’m not usually the kind of guy who wants to chat with randos on the internet, given my knowledge of the internet, but what I do like is winning. If that means convincing some forty-five-year-old divorcé or twelve-year-old in Mozambique to take my side, so be it. It’s not like we’ll ever talk again, and however lame this knight might be in real life, he clearly knows what he’s doing in the game. His avatar is practically draped in skills he’s earned in the arena. A collection of relics appears above his head every time he pulls out a weapon, which is often. By comparison, I have a whole lot of nothing.

I expect the other knight to head for the mage, but instead he turns toward a set of stairs, removing one of his relics—a ring of some kind?—and holding it up until the stairs give way to a passage that extends to the other side of the castle. Somewhere in the middle is a jewel, green and obviously valuable, which the knight plucks up before taking the secret passageway to the outside, taking the mage by surprise.

whoa, what did you just do?I type in the chat.

The knight doesn’t answer, being focused on the mage. Mages in this game have control over animals and this one has some kind of sidekick. I think Nick called them familiars, and I still don’t understand the rules, but basically the familiars are like Pokémon: they evolve and change forms when the mage gains skills. This mage has a tiger, which I assume is pretty good.

The knight trades in one sword for some kind of glowing lance, another one of the relics—it has blood at the tip? That’s totally metal—and pulls out a shield that’s also glowing, so I’m guessing these are both things won in battle. Unfortunately I can’t watch, because I have to take on someone else with my regular, non-glowing weapons.

My opponent is another knight, so this is your basic duel, like when I’m up against a cornerback to see which of us can knock the other out of position. Which reminds me of the Padua cornerback, whose suspension is up by now. Ironic, isn’t it, that he still lost the game, but I lost my whole season? My entire future.

Nope, can’t think about that now.

The knight lunges forward and I… whatever the word is for get out of the way, which flashes across the screen, but of course I haven’t committed all seventy thousand random wizard words to memory. (“There are no wizards in the game” was Nick’s response when I mentioned that, to which I reasonably pointed out, “Whatever.”) Computer games just require focus, quick reflexes… all the stuff my body used to do. I strike, and the other knight throws up a little green glow-y thing that makes him look like he’s suspended in Jell-O. I hit a button and my screen glows, too, waiting for the instant the knight’s power runs out. The parameters of the game are simple—you can’t just use your features forever. They cost you something, and this knight has less in his glowing health bar to spare than I do. He drops his guard and I get in a good hit, weakening him substantially. Now all I need to do is change positions.

Nick gave me a few tricks here and there, like using the alphanumeric keys to be closer to more commands instead of focusing on the arrow pads, but the most important thing he pointed out was that I had to think of combat in terms of the field. As a running back, you’ve got all kinds of advantages just by taking certain positions, or making it look like you might do something different from what you actually plan to do. In the game, you can move directly sideways, but from the right angle, it still considers you behind your opponent. As in, perfectly placed to deliver a hard blow while the other knight wastes precious time turning around.

I take the knight out with a backstab move he can’t block (“parry,” the screen says) and then I zoom back out, getting ready for whatever comes next. Looks like the mage conjured some kind of fire, because the castle’s now engulfed in flames.

used the ring of dispell,shows up in my chat window.

what?I type back, zooming farther out until I see the knight coming toward me from where the battle with the mage must have taken to the burning tower.

C354R10:the ring of dispell shows passageways in the game

DUKEORSINO12:what is a ring of dispell

Before I get an answer, the knight comes at me with the bloody lance still drawn.

“Oh shit,” I say aloud, then realize it’s close to two in the morning. If my dad comes down here, I’ll be in trouble for sure—he’s not a fan of video games. Thinks they’re ruining society, and he’s probably right.

I manage to get out of the way of the lance, but the other knight is already positioned to do to me exactly what I did to the previous knight. It’s down to the two of us now that the others have been taken out.

I turn, or try to, but the other knight moves faster. How is he doing that? I try to attack, but it doesn’t work. He gets me with a hard shot that drains me of almost all my glowing yellow points. My… life. Or whatever is going on there. The bar that used to be green is red now, dangerously so.

Okay. Okay, I can do this. This is just like running it in on a fourth down. No room for failure? I can do that. I do it all the time.

(Used to.)

What do I know about this knight compared to the others I’ve faced since I started playing? He’s not a bull. He doesn’t just go for a kill shot every time. He’s like me: he waits for an opening. So I’ll give him one.

I get in position for one of the sweeping sword-moves and the other knight obviously sees it coming. He throws up his glowing shield—which, by the way, is glowing even more now, probably as a result of having recently defeated a mage with a tiger—and I pull back, then go for a more direct hit when he brings his sword back down. It’s another type of trick play, where you pretend to go high and then aim low.

It works. I make contact in an attack that might take out another player, one with fewer glowing things, but for this knight it just causes their green bar to turn kind of orange. I have a feeling I won’t be able to try that same trick again, so I turn for another backstab, but he beats me to it.

Boom, another hit from a solid angle: I’m out.

My screen goes black and then reopens to inform me I’ve lost, returning me to the landscape somewhere near Camelot that’s basically a landing page.

Great.

I’m considering queuing up for another big combat arena to make up for some of the points I just lost when my chat window blinks open again.

C354R10:the ring of dispell was given to lancelot by the lady of the lake. in the game it means you can use it to see through enchantments

DUKEORSINO12:where’d you get it?

C354R10:I take it you’re new at this

(What the hell is C354R10?)

DUKEORSINO12:where are you?

DUKEORSINO12:in the game

C354R10:why

DUKEORSINO12:paranoid much?

DUKEORSINO12:just want to see who I’m talking to

C354R10:didn’t get a good enough look when I beat you?

DUKEORSINO12:okay, you barely beat me

C354R10:believe me, you got beat

He pauses and then types again.

C354R10:I’m in camelot square

DUKEORSINO12:the square? why?

C354R10:resources

Oh, right. This is where the tradesmen and stuff are. I maneuver through the capital, reaching the marketplace stall, and spot the other knight’s avatar.

C354R10:trying to trade for something?

DUKEORSINO12:like what?

C354R10:that’s what I was thinking. you don’t have anything I want

This avatar looks really familiar. Not like someone I know, obviously. I don’t know any seven-foot-tall knights. Linebackers, sure, but they don’t have hair like that.

Oh wait—that hair. It’s long and bright white and Fabio-esque, which is kind of unmistakable.

Are you supposed to be cesario from war of thorns?????I suddenly ask, piecing together the gamer-speak translation of his username.

C354R10:you watch WoT?

DUKEORSINO12:I started it recently. almost caught up

C354R10:what season are you on?

DUKEORSINO12:just finished 2

DUKEORSINO12:cesario sucked at first but now he’s really interesting

C354R10:what did you think about the twist?

In the season two finale, Cesario basically switches sides. Well, not really. It’s hard to explain, but basically Cesario spent season one as the primary villain, harassing the main character from the “lost” royal line and trying to kill him to get back in his father’s good graces, but then—plot twist!—realizes his dad and his brother are pawns to some other mystery force. So instead of killing his main rival, he lets her go and sets off on his own.

Initially I thought this would be annoying or a setup for a dumb romance plot, but it’s kind of interesting. It’s like he’s just waking up and having his own thoughts for the first time, so everyone in the show is predictable except for him.

DUKEORSINO12:he’s kind of the best storyline??

DUKEORSINO12:he’s the wild card

C354R10:right? he’s the most interesting one

DUKEORSINO12:I didn’t like him at first

I’m still typing when he responds.

C354R10:of course not! you’re not supposed to like him

DUKEORSINO12:but then it’s like he’s the only one good at stuff and actually using his brain instead of just being blindly loyal

There’s a flurry of typing from the other end, then a pause, like he deleted it.

C354R10:I assumed you were going to say something stupid after that “but”

C354R10:but that’s actually not a bad take

C354R10:so congrats

I stifle a laugh, and we reply at the same time:

DUKEORSINO12:means a lot coming from you, a total stranger

C354R10:you should really do more crusades

And again simultaneously:

DUKEORSINO12:what?

C354R10:lol tx

This time I pause to wait for his response.

C354R10:crusades are how you get relics like the ring of dispell or the bleeding lance

DUKEORSINO12:is your bleeding lance literally called “the bleeding lance”?

C354R10:I think it’s technically the spear of longinus, the roman spear that cuts jesus during the crucifixion, but the game kind of shies away from…

DUKEORSINO12:angering christian parents?

C354R10:I was going to say directly religious icons but yeah, that

I laugh a little.

DUKEORSINO12:the holy grail though???? crusades????

C354R10:I know right

C354R10:but that’s arthurian drama for you

I feel like this is a way better conversation than I expected to have in my living room at two in the morning.

DUKEORSINO12:I guess that’s fair. so how do the crusades work

C354R10:wow, you really are new at this

DUKEORSINO12:I kind of just started playing

DUKEORSINO12:my friend introduced me to all this

C354R10:you must have a really weird friend

I laugh again.

DUKEORSINO12:he hides it really well. on the outside you’d never know

C354R10:neurosurgeon? GQ model?

DUKEORSINO12:close

DUKEORSINO12:former quarterback

DUKEORSINO12:he graduated last year and handed off his account to me

C354R10:you cannot possibly mean nick valentine

I freeze for a second.

Suddenly I get really, weirdly paranoid, partially because I’m running on very little sleep and also because it’s extremely weird to think this random dude guessed my best friend’s name. That’s not normal, right? Is there any way this person is looking into my house? I cover up my webcam just in case, then remember I’m being ridiculous. You couldn’t know my best friend’s name just by looking at my face, and anyway, it’s not even on.

Unless I got hacked??

Oh my god. I’m totally going to get murdered.

C354R10:sorry, I should have mentioned earlier

He probably just realized that was a bit too creepy for comfort.

C354R10:your username… I kind of put two and two together

Oh, right. Duh. Even Nick thought I should have picked something less obviously me, so that’s my bad, I guess. I didn’t even think about the fact that anyone who goes to Messaline would know exactly who I am—probably because I didn’t expect to find anyone from Messaline in the game.

DUKEORSINO12:it’s cool

It’s weird, but not that weird. I don’t think I would have brought it up, either.

DUKEORSINO12:Does that mean you go to messaline too?

There’s a long pause.

C354R10:yeah

DUKEORSINO12:no way. do we know each other?

Another pause.

C354R10:yes

And then,

C354R10:sort of

C354R10:not well

DUKEORSINO12:you obviously know who I am

C354R10:everyone knows who you are

DUKEORSINO12:true

I hate to say it, but the little bit of smugness in my chest is kind of a nice feeling.

DUKEORSINO12:still, it’s not fair if you know me and I don’t know you

DUKEORSINO12:who are you?

C354R10:nobody

DUKEORSINO12:you do know I’m on ASB right? it’s pretty easy to find people

Not to be creepy,I hurry to add, because damn, this is a fine line to walk. Secret identities are really not my thing. But hey, he did it first, right?

C354R10:I’m still nobody special

I almost decide not to push it, but now the curiosity’s getting to me. I’m assuming it’s some weird, quiet freshman, but hey, could be worse, right? Could be a cybercriminal, or a mobster. Or some old dude trying to catfish me.

DUKEORSINO12:you’re a lot better at this game than I am. and it’d be cooler to play with a real live human being than a stranger

DUKEORSINO12:come on, it’s only fair

C354R10:fine

Nice.

C354R10:but don’t tell anyone

I have to laugh at that.

DUKEORSINO12:uh, bro? believe me, I do NOT want anyone knowing this is what I do with my spare time

C354R10:lol. understandable

C354R10:this is deeply embarrassing for you

DUKEORSINO12:thanks captain obvious

DUKEORSINO12:so????

I wait and then, after a few seconds, Cesario finally reveals his true identity.

C354R10:bash

DUKEORSINO12:bash…?

C354R10:reyes

As in Vi Reyes? Wow. It’s a small world after all, though I don’t think I even know what Bash Reyes looks like. I’ve never had a class with him. He definitely doesn’t play sports. I think he does drama?

C354R10:but don’t call me that

He says it just as I’m about to remark how weird it is to not only be playing against someone I know, but someone in my grade.

C354R10:it’s just… the game’s not real life, you know?

C354R10:I like that about it

Yeah, I get that.

He probably has no idea how much I get that.

DUKEORSINO12:no prob cesario, your secret’s safe with me

DUKEORSINO12:now let’s talk crusades