Chapter 3 #3
I had taken the book to school the next day.
I wanted to return it and thank him. But each time I saw him, I hesitated.
It was only then I realized we had only spoken when it was just the two of us.
He’d only approached me when people’s attention had been elsewhere.
Was he ashamed of talking to me? He wanted to be nice, but not at the expense of his reputation?
By the time I started work at DragonByte, the book still hid in my backpack along with last night’s elation.
I needed a plan to return it or the perfect opportunity to drop in my lap.
Work was busy. There were constant requests for snacks, drinks, and the normal complaints of lagging and other things that showed how good a sportsman the player really was.
I pretended to repair the lag, and things were magically fixed the moment the player began winning.
I didn’t know if the pressure of the end of the semester coming up was affecting our DragonByte patrons too, but the spacious room was packed.
The smell of stress among unwashed bodies was palpable.
The opening-door bell beeped. I looked up to see another group of guys entering.
I swallowed. Ni stood out, leaner than the rest of his bulky team.
They scattered, managing to find enough computers and the noise level spiked as they yelled into their mics while they played an FPS.
Just like during football practice, he was the strategist. I was nearby cleaning up the trash around a few customers, and I could hear him coordinating them.
He must have been good at it because more often than not, they broke out in shouts of triumph.
I was quickly distracted by requests for pizza and more drinks.
Then number fifty-eight went down thanks to someone downloading something they shouldn’t.
Buzz took care of the expulsion, while I got the system cleaned of viruses.
By the time I was done, things had settled down a bit.
The jocks appeared to have gone, but luck was with me because Ni remained.
He was typing, the light of the computer screen weirdly highlighting the angles of his face.
He must have been concentrating. My fingers tingled when he bit his lip.
I checked the time and discovered that I had a break coming to me. It was now or never.
“Buzz, number fifty-eight is back up. I’m taking thirty.”
He nodded and wound his way toward the machine for a last check. Not because he didn’t trust me, but because he was the boss and everything rested on him.
I grabbed a pack of snack cakes and retrieved the book from my backpack, then headed straight for Ni.
My heart started pounding faster as I got closer to him, and I had to juggle the items in my hands to wipe each sweaty palm on my jeans.
Calm down. He’s just a person. Two legs, two arms, two large hands... probably great for handling a football.
“Hi.” My amazing conversationalist skills came back into play when I reached his station.
It looked like he was editing his own essay.
He scooted back and stood too, standing over me. Why did I always end up so close to him?
“Hey. What’s up?” he asked.
I held out the book. “Thanks. Though I left some notes to show where you were wrong.”
He took the book and held it at his side. This hand-off was much more chill.
“You’re already done?” he asked.
I nodded, feeling like a bobblehead. “Thanks again.” I didn’t know what else to do or say. I planned on going outside for some fresh air, to enjoy my snack and get away from...this.
“You wanna sit? I know it’s busy. You could use my computer. I’m done editing.”
“Why are you editing here?”
“I got an A- on my last calc test, so my dad took away my laptop.”
“What?” I was shocked. What kind of parents were so strict?
“Please sit. You’ve been running around all afternoon. I can stand for a few minutes while you play.”
He wanted to watch me play? Buzz was always saying it was good for his business.
Maybe it was true. It would be awkward having him watch over my shoulder—I didn’t like people watching me—but for some reason I wanted to show off.
And he’d be watching ScarlettSaber, not me, right?
I logged in and cut through some mobs to find someone worth fighting.
Just behind me, I could hear the rustle of turning pages and a soft expellation of breath as if he were laughing silently.
Was he actually watching, or was he reading my notes?
Well, he could agree or disagree, for all I cared.
It wasn’t as if it mattered if he threw all my notes away.
I’d never know. I swallowed hard and ignored the things his laugh did to my stomach, putting all my focus into fighting the mini-boss, whom I completely wrekt.
It helped clear my mind. The doorbell beeped again, and I turned my head, only to find him leaning close, watching my screen intently.
His eyes caught mine, and something glimmered.
“Molly. Can you come here help?” Buzz’s accent cut through the tension.
I jumped in the chair and scooted back. “My break’s over.”
He instantly made way for me. I grabbed my snack and scuttled off like a giant cockroach hiding from the light. What the heck had that been?