Chapter 3
Monday morning, a couple of weeks after the tourney, my pencil lead snapped. Again. I’d been pressing too hard, grinding through my homework in the sun while a cool breeze snatched at the escaped hairs along my face, increasing my frustration.
The cement bench behind the school cafeteria chilled my butt, and the matching table chilled my elbows.
Soon I wouldn’t be able to sit out here anymore as fall changed to winter.
The other kids either sat inside the glass-walled room eating and socializing while a few walked by; some of them wearing jackets.
My denim one didn’t stand out so much anymore.
I twisted the pencil in my sharpener. It was all IvoryKnight’s fault that I was writing by hand.
I knew that thought was irrational, but I was having a hard time focusing on programming.
This problem should be easy, but all I could see was his blue radiating armor and that oversized two-handed sword.
He wasn’t God; he hadn’t caused the lightning, yet he had stolen the first prize that would have fixed my computer.
I knew not to expect the loot for a couple more weeks, so it didn’t really matter whether I’d gotten first prize or not.
Okay—he hadn’t stolen it from me. I tucked my sharpener back into my bag and tapped my eraser against my notebook.
As grumpy as I was about losing, I had to admit that he had been smooth and fast. Replaying the fight in my head, I wondered if he had drawn it out on purpose.
There were a few times he could’ve defeated me but missed by a hair.
An ancient oak towered some distance to the right of me, its shadow reaching toward my combat boots as I pulled them out of the way.
One of its discarded leaves landed on the programming problem vexing me.
I swiped it off, ignoring the fact that I should’ve done the homework over the weekend instead of playing COTSA.
I wondered if IvoryKnight was actually a girl using a male avatar, so she didn’t have to deal with the attention that being female and good at playing brought.
There were guys who played female characters, just like I played a male one.
There had to be others out there who were like me.
Other than my old gaming group, who had heard me on voice chat, and those from DragonByte who’d seen me play, everyone else just assumed I was a guy, and I liked it that way. I didn’t want the extra attention.
The programming problem stared me in the face accusingly.
I was procrastinating again. Why couldn’t I just figure out this problem?
Usually, I found tricky coding questions interesting, but not today.
Today, I just wanted to scream and throw my pencil across campus.
The homework was due last hour, and any F’s would affect my GPA.
My fist tightened, and the whole pencil snapped this time.
I shut my eyes and dropped my forehead onto my books and papers.
I should just use the library computers to work out this problem.
I was going there after lunch anyway, for the volunteer hours that would help pad my college applications.
Parking Lot Angel’s smile appeared in the blackness behind my eyelids.
I let it drift there, debuffing the berserk ailment that seemed to be affecting me.
Only this time, the Parking Lot Angel in my mind reached out and trailed fingers along my face.
I sat up quickly. No. Absolutely not. Why was he lingering in my thoughts?
I’d seen handsome guys before. It was no big deal.
But none of them had ever been so kind and thoughtful, an inner voice whispered. I squeezed my eyes tighter, scrunching my whole face and grinding my teeth.
“Being computerless is making her crazy.” Lin’s voice came from behind me. “Are you sure I can’t buy you a new one?”
I sighed and sat up, opening my eyes, as Lin sat to my left and Charisse to my right. “I can’t let money ruin our friendship.”
“At least let me look up someplace where you can buy parts or have it fixed. I can’t stand to see you like this,” Lin started typing and swiping on her phone. She had no idea what the part was. But that was fine, if it made her feel helpful.
A group of guys stopped to chat on the other side of the oak. One of them laughed loudly, ruining what had been left of the quiet and completely distracting me from programming—because my Parking Lot Angel stood there with them.
Right in front of me.
I must’ve been hallucinating. But the butterflies tickling my stomach as he smiled were oh so real. How could he go to this same school? I had a vague recollection of having seen that face before. Out front. By the bike racks.
But he wasn’t looking at me. He stepped forward, out of the group, and bent down, helping a girl with brown curls and glasses pick up some books she had dropped, while more oak leaves fell all around him.
It was like a scene from a romantic movie.
The gawky girl was destined to be turned into a swan by his love.
“Awww. He is just the sweetest. No one can be better than my Ni-guy. Isn’t it amazing how he treats all the girls? If he ever dated anyone, my life would be over! Do you know how many girls in our school would target someone who thought she could be Ni-guy’s girlfriend?” Charisse said.
Well, that was pretty Charisse-dramatic.
“Ignore her,” Lin said. “She’s in love with everyone.”
Wait... “What?” The playing violins came to a halt in my mind as Charisse’s words filtered through the soundtrack, and my throat clogged.
Her gaze was turned to the same scene I had been watching.
“Ni-guy?” I croaked. “As in Nigel, the quarterback?” The leaves still fell, but the blurred background returned to the harsh reality of high school. I swallowed.
“Mmmmm.” She nodded.
“Nigel is always doing the sweetest things. My heart goes pitter-patter whenever I see him. He smiles at you like you are the only one in the world.” She twisted side to side with her hands linked together, pressed to her chest, head tilted, and her eyes locked on my Parking Lot Angel.
I barely kept my hand from covering my own fluttering, perfidious heart.
Cute-butt-quarterback was Parking Lot Angel?
Worse and worse. And he gave those heart-melting smiles to everyone?
He really should stop that. They felt deeply misleading.
And I suddenly felt betrayed by the nod he’d given me when I’d finished the tournament finals.
Don’t look this way. He was a mere body length away and could probably hear our conversation—if he wanted to.
I had to derail Charisse immediately. I took a breath, my mind grasped for something to say...
“This programming homework is tricky, especially number five. I just can’t figure it out.
” Great, Charisse wasn’t the least bit distracted.
She couldn’t care less about programming. What else could I talk about?
“Pssst. Oglers. What part do you need?” Lin snapped her fingers, bringing me back to the conversation, pre-interruption.
Yes, the opportunity I needed. I gave her my full attention.
“Power Supply. But laptops are much harder and therefore more expensive to fix. I haven’t even gotten the loot from my second-place win yet—still need to sell it. In the meantime, I’ll just make do.” I held up the two pieces of my pencil.
Lin rolled her eyes. “You are so stubborn.”
Charisse leaned in. “You guys are coming to my play, right? Opening night is coming up, and I always go to the football stuff and DragonByte, so you’ll come, right?
We’re doing Shakespeare, but it will be lots of fun, anyway.
‘These are the forgeries of jealousy; And never, since the middle summer’s spring; Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead; By paved fountain or by rushy brook; Or in the beached margent of the sea; To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind; But with thy brawls thou hast disturb’d our sport.
’“ She ended with one hand on her chest and the other up in the air.
Yep, that sounded Shakespeare-y. This was the first I’d heard of a play. My eyes locked with Lin’s, and I sighed. Looked like I would be going to a play. Real-life friendships were hard. Shakespeare versus mobs—and Shakespeare won.
I stared at the lines of code on the page in front of me. Why did everything seem easier with a monitor and a keyboard between me and the world?
“What about this one?” Lin shoved her phone in my face.
“No.” I scanned the screen. Not only was it the wrong one and way out of my price range, but I was going to be late if the time on her phone was right.
Another hour had passed without me finishing my homework.
I hoped the library wouldn’t be busy so I could get through that last difficult problem.
And I hoped anything would distract me from the thought that I could run into Parking Lot Angel at any moment.
I started stuffing everything into my bag and stacking what wouldn’t fit on the table to grab in one swipe as I stood. “I’m off. See you in digital art, Lin.”
AND HERE I WAS... STILL stuck on that programming issue.
And still procrastinating. I double-checked the list of overdue books and grumbled when Language Changes and Influences from the Sixteenth Century to the Eighteenth Century was still missing.
I needed that book to write my essay in English.
End of semester tests were bearing down upon me like an army of goblins.
Unfortunately, everyone else had the same crisis, and the normally quiet library was a bustling hive of controlled panic.
A pile of freshly checked-in books slid into my peripheral vision.
A hint that I should get cracking at the reason I was actually there.
I sighed, leaving behind the repeatedly erased and overworked paper, which I was still stuck using because every computer was taken up by a student working toward exams.