14. Bruce
CHAPTER 14
brUCE
“Did you live under a rock?” she asks, and her eyebrows grow so animated I half expect them to join the conversation.
I stare her down—which is easier now because when I’m sitting and she’s standing, our eyes are almost level. “This, coming from the person who didn’t know the name of the author of her ‘favorite game.’”
With a huff, she pulls out her phone and does a search. “No,” she says. “The books did come first, but the author simply sold the rights to the game developer. He didn’t write anything for them after.”
“There you go,” I say. “There’s no way those games could be anywhere as good as the books.”
Her eyes go slitty. “ The Witcher 3 is a masterpiece.”
“If you say so.”
She turns on her heel. “I’ll prove it to you.”
Before I can reply, she stomps off somewhere.
I stare at Colossus. “How is she going to prove that to me?”
The puppy just wags his tail. He likes being in my lap in the evenings and doesn’t care for much else.
Reaching for my book, I resume reading until I hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet, followed by an angry throat clearing.
“Yes?” I put the book away for what feels like the hundredth time.
She thrusts something into my hands—a gizmo that looks like a large smartphone with a video game controller attached on each side. “Play this , and I dare you to tell me it’s not the best thing ever.”
I check out the screen, where I see a computer-generated likeness of Geralt, a.k.a. the Witcher, standing next to a horse.
“They’ve got the hair right,” I say. “And there’re two swords. I assume the horse’s name is Roach.”
“There are also sexy sorceresses,” she says so enticingly that it reverberates in my cock.
“Triss and Yennefer?” I can’t help but ask.
Looking like the proverbial cat who ate the canary, she asks, “Does that mean you’ll play?”
I hand her my book. “Only if you read this.”
She takes the book between her thumb and index finger like it might bite. “It’s been a while since I’ve read a book.”
I tsk-tsk. “All the more reason to read something now , before your brain permanently atrophies—like those of the rest of your short-attention-spanned cohorts.”
“Says the ancient,” she says sarcastically, then riffles through the pages, looking uncertain.
“Look,” I say. “The last time I played a video game was back in high school.”
She becomes a lot more animated at this. “What was the game?
“ Super Mario Sunshine. ”
“GameCube?” she asks excitedly.
“I think so. I even still have the thing somewhere in storage.”
Her eyes gleam. “I had the GameCube, and that game was my favorite when I was in grade school.”
“Grade school?” If she wanted to make me feel like an antique, mission accomplished.
“Yep.” She points at the device in my hands. “That’s a Nintendo console as well.”
I turn the gizmo over and read the back of it. “Nintendo Switch?”
“You’ve never heard of it?” She shakes her head. “You really do live under a rock.”
I sigh. “If being a grown adult is the same thing as living under a rock, then I’m guilty as charged.”
“I’m an adult.” As if unaware of the concept of irony, she accompanies the statement with a stomp of her little foot.
“Will you read the book or not?” I hand her the game console back since I’m confident she’ll go for the “not” option.
She grasps the book tighter. “I’ll only commit to finishing this if you swear that you’ll beat the whole game.”
“Deal.”
She grins triumphantly. “You know it’s about a hundred hours, right?”
“What?” I nearly drop the stupid console. “You’ll be done with the book in a tenth of that time.”
“So… you’re welshing already?” She hands the book to me.
“No. It might have taken you that long to beat the game, but I figure if I focus, I can do it faster.”
She grins. “Good luck.”
“I don’t need luck.”
Her grin widens. “That’s the spirit. Oh, and you can play on ‘easy’ if that’s what you need.”
“That’s why books are better,” I say pointedly. “No shortcuts.”
She opens her mouth to make some sort of a retort, but Mrs. Campbell interrupts us once again. This time, she’s carrying a tray with my nightly digestif.
“Well,” Lilly says. “I’d better go.”
“Do you remember where your room is?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says, but doesn’t sound too sure.
I take my drink from Mrs. Campbell. “Can you show her where it is, as well as Colossus’s sleeping arrangements?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Campbell says.
“Have fun,” Lilly says, nodding at the video game in my hand.
I wait for them to leave before I navigate my way to the “New Game” screen.
A part of me is actually excited, but that could very well be the aftermath of having Lilly in my presence. Either way, I never put off something for later if it can be done immediately, which means now is as good of a time as any to acquaint myself with the silicon version of the Witcher.
This will take my reading time slot—which means I have mere minutes before I have to get back to work.