Chapter 2
Things were going so well. I’d been working at DragonByte for the past few weeks, and I’d almost forgotten that previous life when we’d lived together as an unhappy family. But my parents’ relationship today was stormier than the atmospheric pressure building outside.
“What’s your excuse now? Can’t you leave that bimbo in our bed for five minutes?
” Mom yelled into her phone. I shut my bedroom door, hoping to at least muffle the volcano that was my mother.
She was phone-fighting with Dad again. It was rather sad.
I could tell she still cared for him so much.
But her pain was making the love turn to hate.
I really wished they could both see that.
I pushed the thoughts away, slipped my headphones over my head, and settled in at my computer.
A grape soda waited on my desk, to the left of the screen.
Battling was thirsty work. The folding chair wasn’t the most comfortable, while the desk had seen better days with black paint peeling off, revealing the naked wood underneath.
But they did their jobs. We hadn’t taken much with us when we’d left the house Dad now shared with Val.
Branches banged against the building, muted by my noise-canceling headphones.
My sweatpants and T-shirt—instant PJs—were just right for a cozy night in.
Because tonight, storm or no storm, there was going to be a PvP tournament.
It was a local one, and the finalists would all get awesome loot that I could sell in real life for some extra cash.
Of course, the first prize came with a decent dollar amount that would pad my now nonexistent college fund nicely.
The lawyer war between my parents had drained it.
I logged on early to warm up my fingers with some easy kills.
My ScarlettSaber avatar appeared in the spawn town with its medieval feel.
I closed unnecessary windows, like the player chat and friend notification screens.
Talking and strategizing with my teammates over voice chat had once been fun—until the incident happened with RogueStriker.
The group broke up, and I’d unfriended them.
I don’t use voice chat anymore. People could think what they wanted.
ScarlettSaber, distinct in his unique glowing red armor, sauntered through the bustle of players and non-player characters, or NPCs, all busy haggling and quest-finding.
I passed both wooden and stone buildings—their street-level shops selling every kind of item a player could want or resources to make their own—on my way to the mobs on the outskirts of town.
However, I didn’t make the city limits before—
Boom! Thunder hit right overhead. My room shook. The screen went black. I tossed my headphones away on the off chance that I got zapped.
“No!” Not my computer!
My heart tried to escape my ribcage. And now I was extra motivated to win first place because my laptop was likely a brick. How was I going to replace it? I left things as they were and bolted to check on Mom. We ran into each other in the hall, literally.
She grabbed my arms, steadying me. “You okay?”
I nodded. “You?”
She smiled and hugged me.
“I’ve got to go. My laptop is fried. There’s probably damage to the outlet, but there wasn’t any smoke. So, I think it’s fine for now.” I grabbed a hoodie, my keys, and my bike.
“Wait—where are you going?”
“To DragonByte. To use a computer.” I had hoped to avoid the limelight, but I didn’t have a choice now.
The door shut with a sticky oomph behind me as I shrugged into the black zip-up hoodie.
I wasn’t chancing the elevator after that lightning blast. Instead, moving as fast as I could down the stairs without falling down to break my crown with a bike tumbling after, my trusty ride and I clattered down the flights until we were safe at the bottom.
Zipping up, I flipped the hood over my head before jumping on.
The sky was thick with angry clouds. Sunset was just around the corner, but it was light enough to see as I pedaled through the rain.
Thank goodness, because my bike light had stopped working.
I’d have to rely on my reflectors. I lamented having my laptop plugged in.
The power supply was probably a doorstop now.
I glanced at my watch, but the numbers were blurred, and I couldn’t press the backlight button while riding.
Dirty water splattered on my jeans as my tires splashed through puddles.
It was wet and chilly, but the rain didn’t obscure my vision.
I slid, turning into the strip mall just as full darkness fell.
How I’d get home with my broken lights was a problem for future Molly.
My bike zoomed across the parking lot, the distinct sound of the rubber spinning over wet pavement and my own labored breathing trailing after me.
I had to get there before the tournament started, or it would count as a forfeit.
Bright lights shone in my face, blinding me. I jerked on the handlebars and plummeted to the ground, hands first—luckily for me but not so much for my bike. Great. Bad things came in threes. I’d better not lose the tournament because of this cursed night.
The truck door opened, and a hooded figure stepped around it and toward me.
I squinted in the light, trying to make out the details of the silhouette.
A hand extended toward me. “Are you all right?”
The light revealed the face of an angel, framed by a hood like mine. My traitorous heart skipped a beat at the gentle smile aimed at me.
Mercy, but he had superstar-model looks. Brown hair fell in rain-wet waves around his face, partially obscuring thick eyebrows. He had a small nose and plump lips above a strong, square chin. I tore my gaze from the sight and swallowed. Nope. Not happening.
“Fine.” I ignored the hand and pushed myself out from under my bike to get up.
Realizing I wasn’t going to take his hand, he helped by pulling my bike up and turning the front wheel toward the building. “I almost didn’t see you. So sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“My fault. I was in a hurry.” Rain continued to drench us as I walked along with him and the bike, brushing my now stinging hands together to remove the grit on them in the free-falling water.
He continued at a quick clip toward the covered sidewalk. He needed to stop being so polite. Combined with that killer smile, my stomach was doing flip-flops, and it wasn’t because I almost got in an accident.
“Are you sure?”
“Right here’s good. Thanks.” Ignoring what the business lights might reveal about the state of my bike, I locked it as fast as I could and darted inside. I needed to get away from him and logged in before the tourney started.
Inside, I felt more like myself. The place was hoppin’.
These were my people. Not all of them were here to play the game or watch the tourney, of course.
Those people over there were playing a shooter together.
And that other group looked like they were typing up documents or surfing the web, staying away from the gaming groups.
Their evening was about to get way louder.
Buzz greeted me happily in a broken mix of Chinese and English and sent me off to an open computer—not number 12; I hoped that wasn’t an omen.
I warned him about the lightning, and he waved me off.
Either he didn’t understand that word, or he had taken precautions.
I assumed the latter. Besides. I hadn’t seen any more lightning on the way here, but I didn’t know which direction the storm was traveling.
The door jingled, and a bedraggled, black-hooded figure entered. Was it the Parking Lot Angel? I didn’t have time to wait until he took his hood off. The official sign-in was closing any minute.
The first few rounds were easy. No sweat.
By the semi-finals, a small crowd had gathered around the big screen projecting the match on the wall.
I appreciated the support because those matches were tougher.
I needed to use both my physical and in-game skills.
Luckily, I was well used to DragonByte’s keyboards and mice.
There were a couple of times that I lost a round but won the match. And I made it to the finals. Please, luck, hold.
IvoryKnight, my final opponent, stepped into the virtual arena. His armor glowed blue—set pieces like mine—though mine glowed red because of their life-steal ability.
I tuned out the yells of the surrounding people in DragonByte. I could practically taste the dust from the arena floor.
As soon as the countdown disappeared, I charged with a swing of my blade.
IvoryKnight was already gone. He’d jumped and was building up magic for an attack.
I calculated the amount of time he would need to finish the spell and charged again.
The spell hit me face-on. My health bar dropped by a sizable chunk.
Impossible. His armor must given him some sort of enhanced spell-casting speed.
It was the most evenly matched battle I had ever had with a single player. He won the first round. I won the second by a hair. And in the final round, we were neck and neck.
My ability bar refilled, and I used an AoE—Area of Effect circle—to slow and damage Mr. IvoryKnight when he came within range of me.
Then I used Sharpen Blade to increase my weapon’s damage output.
He responded by sending his magic shield through the trap barrier, setting it off and destroying my concentration.
Jerk.
I raced forward and used a stone wall to bounce off of, and I flipped over him while slicing his back. The armor protected him, and he only took a fraction of the damage my blood sword could do, but it partially refilled my health bar as well.
He spun to face me. We both dodged, feinted, and swiped at one another in an epic duel.
His finger speed was at least as fast as mine, and his timing was perfection.
I blocked another swing of his sword and saw an opening—just a momentary hesitation.
I dove in and attacked, then was smashed from behind... and I lost.
I sat there, stunned. Stupid threes. The roar of the crowd returned as I slipped off the headphones and hung them back up.
Somehow during that battle that kept me on my toes, he had re-summoned his magical shield behind me. Sneaky.
Buzz was yelling in my ear, the l’s sounding like r’s. “Can’t believe you almost defeated IvoryKnight. He’s legend!”
I turned to see that a large group had gathered in the chairs behind me as well. Everyone was talking loudly, and several were cuffing me on the back. No longer protected by my avatar, I wanted to fast-travel away.
Through the crowd, sitting in a corner with the non-gamers, a head covered in a hood peeked around the screen, and a familiar smile caught me in its web, my throat tightening. His brown waves were dry now, and the brightness of the overhead lights revealed a face that didn’t disappoint.
If anything, he was even more attractive than the bad lighting and rain had led me to believe.
My Parking Lot Angel was probably too shy to join the crowd.
I know I was, but I could feel his congratulations from across the room.
Time to leave. I’d find out what loot I got for second place later. Whenever they got around to sending it.