Chapter 15
“You hope those cuts scar?” Mom braces herself in the kitchen doorway, holding her forehead. I sit at the table, hands in my lap. There’s still some blood under the nails of my right hand. “Jesus Christ, Evie, whose daughter are you?”
“He was saying vile things about me and Ash and Alissa.”
“I don’t care, violence is never the answer! Evie, you assaulted him. His parents could press charges against you for what you did. The only reason you haven’t been expelled from school is because the administration knows this is a hard time.”
I run one fingernail under another, picking out bits of blood.
“They still want you at the assembly,” she says. “But the principal thinks it’s better if you don’t speak. They’re going to have you hold a plaque that’ll be hung in the entry hall.”
When I still don’t say anything, she pinches the bridge of her nose. “I got a message from your coach too. You’ve been skipping practice?”
I look away.
“Evie, for the love of . . . you have got to talk to me.”
“No I don’t,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t. I don’t have to talk to anyone if I don’t want to.”
“You do, even if you don’t think you do. I don’t care if it’s me, or Anna, or someone else, but you have got to talk to someone about what you’re feeling right now.”
I roll my eyes. Everyone wants to know how I’m feeling. Wasn’t what I just did clear enough?
“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” she says. “I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t need help.”
“You’re skipping practice. Your grades are terrible. You’re getting into fights at school. There is a very obvious root cause here, and if you don’t address it, things will only get worse.”
I push my chair away from the table and stand. “The only thing that makes it worse is everyone wanting to talk about it. If we all stopped talking about it, everything would be fine.”
“Oh, Evie . . .” She growls, closing her eyes and clenching her fists. I take the opportunity to try to escape the kitchen. As I pass her, she opens her eyes. “I don’t want you playing that game tonight!”
I stop in the hallway and look at her. She’s serious.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s all you do. You spent all the money you made last summer on a new computer. If your grades were good and you weren’t getting into fights, I wouldn’t be so concerned about it. But you’re too focused. This isn’t good for you.”
“Whatever.” I turn away. What’s she going to do, cancel my account? She doesn’t have the information to log into it. Is she going to cut off internet access entirely? I need it for my homework. I hear her footsteps behind me, so I close the door to my room and throw the lock.
“Evie,” she says.
I sit down at my computer and hit the mouse.
The monitors don’t turn on. The room is strangely quiet.
The computer tower is off, but I don’t remember turning it off when I stopped playing last night.
I hit the power button. Nothing happens.
I shove away from the desk, drop down, and crawl under to check the outlets.
The power cord is gone.
I scramble up and open the door. Mom is standing right outside, her mouth set in a firm line but fear flashing in her eyes.
“You took my power cord?” I say.
“One week,” she says. “I want you to go without playing for one week. If you can do that, I’ll give you the cord back. Okay?”
One week is the Dreambreaker expansion.
“One week is too long,” I bite out. “I have to play—I can’t just go AWOL on the clan.”
She throws her hands up. “This is what I’m talking about!”
I slam the door closed and lock it again.
Mom obviously doesn’t know that the power cords are universal, so she only took the one from the tower.
I unplug one of my monitors and jack that into the computer tower instead.
I’ll be a monitor short, but I can still play.
I’ll stay off voice chat and just type in-game so she can’t hear me through the door, and I’ll make sure I switch the power cord back to my monitor before I leave in the morning so it seems like I haven’t used it.
One week? I can pretend not to play for one week.
It’s not about the power cord. It’s about the audacity to take Children of Hypnos away from me.
She wants me to get better, so she takes the only thing I care about.
She didn’t even ask. She doesn’t care why it’s so important to me, or why I’m playing it all the time, or why it suddenly means more than school or sports.
I turn on music to drown out the computer fans when I boot up.
“Evie,” Mom calls again, “can we talk about this?”
It’s still early. I got sent home because of the fight, so I have a lot of time to play. I don’t plan on leaving my room except to use the bathroom, and I’ll put that off as long as possible. I don’t want to talk.
Still, I feel that ping deep in my chest, behind my heart, that twinge of guilt. I know she’s trying to help. I know she’s worried. But I don’t want what she’s trying to give me.
“I don’t want to talk right now,” I yell.
There’s a pause, and then her footsteps move away.
I’m glad I said something, but it still feels like it was the wrong thing to say.
By late in the day, guilt has eaten a hole in my stomach.
I shouldn’t have gotten so mad. I shouldn’t have lost control.
It wasn’t a rational response. But I couldn’t stop it.
Both times, it happened instantly, overwhelmingly, like a flash flood.
Playing helps me forget, but every twenty minutes or so I remember what I said and did, and the guilt worsens.
Ash gets online later that day, and he seems fine, but I know something is up with him. When I ask him again why he was so weird, why he didn’t meet me for lunch, he avoids the questions.
[Faustus]: I heard you gouged up Aiden’s face pretty good.
[Ravenweal]: Yeah, I went kinda feral
[Ravenweal]: I’ve never gotten like that before
[Ravenweal]: It was scary
[Faustus]: I heard about what he said. I would’ve done the same thing.
[Ravenweal]: I wish no one had told you
[Faustus]: People say stupid shit all the time.
[Faustus]: He didn’t hit you back, did he?
[Ravenweal]: No. I think I surprised him too much
[Faustus]: That’s good.
[Ravenweal]: Good news, though—we both made it on the raid list!
[Faustus]: haha yeah
Ash is always subdued in chat, so it’s hard to get a read on him now. Still upset about something, or just his normal self?
There is an easier way for me to find out.
[Ravenweal]: Are you going to be home for the rest of the day?
[Faustus]: Yeah. Why?
[Ravenweal]: Can I come over?
[Faustus]: Yeah, but my parents are here.
[Faustus]: I thought you didn’t want to see them?
[Ravenweal]: I don’t, but if we’re in your room, will they bother us?
[Faustus]: Probably not. I’ll have to tell them why we’re hanging out later.
[Ravenweal]: Just tell them we’re playing CoH together.
[Faustus]: Okay. Yeah.
[Ravenweal]: I’ll be there in a few minutes.
I log out, power down my computer, and switch the power cables back, then make sure my laptop and supplies are in my backpack. I grab some old Adidas slides to wear with my socks, throw a sweatshirt on, tuck the fourth Children of Hypnos book under my arm, and leave my room.
Mom appears from the living room like she’s been waiting for my door to open.
“Can we . . . are you going somewhere?”
“Yeah. Is it okay if I go to the Whitakers’ to hang out with Ash?”
“Ash?” Whatever steam she’d built up while she was waiting for me to emerge has dissipated. “When I saw him at the track meet, he said the two of you had been talking a bit, but . . .”
“Yeah, since the funeral,” I say. “We hang out at school.”
“What are you going to do?”
I hold my book up. “Read. Talk. Maybe go get some food.”
This must seem like a Normal Teenager Thing to do, because she brightens. “Oh. Okay, sure, yes. Do you have your phone? Call me if you need anything. Let me know how the Whitakers are doing too. Tell them I said hi.”
“I will.” I give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek before I go. She squeezes me tight. I can’t bear the thought of her thinking I hate her. “Love you, Mom.”
“I love you too.”
Ash is waiting on his front porch when I get there, clicking around on his phone.
“Early downloads are starting for Dreambreaker,” he says as I climb the steps.
“My mom tried to ban me from playing for a week,” I say. “Have to blast music while my computer is on so she doesn’t notice. I should still be able to get the download done, though.”
He looks up and frowns. “Ban you? What for?”
“She thinks I’m obsessed.”
He pauses for a second. “You did hit level cap and gear out in about the same amount of time it’s taken me to say this sentence.”
“So you agree with her?”
“Not that you need to be banned, but yeah, you’re hyperfocused.”
“Fine.”
I’m not sure how to greet him when we’re here outside of school with no one around.
Do I kiss him? Hug him? A physical awkwardness strings out between us.
Both his parents’ cars are in the driveway, so they’re both home—what if one of them comes to the door and sees us?
They’re going to think something’s wrong with us, kissing so soon after Alissa died.
“Hi,” I say finally.
“Hi,” he says back. He smiles a little, the first I’ve seen in days. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” I say. Testing the waters, I hold my hand out. He takes it, reels me in for a quick kiss, then lets me go. That was it; that was all I needed.
He leads me inside. The TV in the living room is on, turned to college basketball. Mr. Whitaker used to be the first one at the door when I came over, beaming, talking about whatever activity their family had planned for the day and how I could join in. I think I hear him snoring now.
When we’re halfway up the stairs, Ash’s mom comes out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel, seeking us out.