Jennet walked into the Media Room and stopped, her heart sinking. The room held a cluster of netscreens, an old console, and a dismantled moto-sense setup. She’d assumed the Gaming Club would have basic sim equip. But no. Not in Crestview.
A clump of boys and a purple-haired girl were sitting around screens showing a battle RPG. They hadn’t noticed Jennet yet.
She took a careful step backward, trying to breathe softly. This had been a mistake. Maybe she could still get away unseen.
“Hey. Rich girl,” a voice called. “You in the right place?”
Jennet halted and looked across the room, meeting the gaze of a large girl with fierce eyes. She looked familiar, and her name rolled into Jennet’s mind—Marny. They shared a few classes. The rest of the gamers lifted their heads, fingers on their pause buttons, and the air in the room went heavy and cold.
Great. An invisible exit was out of the question now.
“So, you’re too good to answer?” Marny asked. “What are you doing here, anyway? Looking for a cheap boyfriend?”
The other kids laughed, though the big girl’s words hadn’t been entirely kind to them, either.
Jennet took a deep breath. This was her last chance. If there wasn’t a ‘leet player here, she didn’t know where she’d find one.
“You guys aren’t the only ones who game, you know,” she said. “I’m a simmer.”
The tension in the room gained an interested edge. One of the boys pushed his yellow hoodie away from his big-nosed face.
“You? A simmer?” He looked her up and down. “Right.”
The skinny boy next to him let out a high-pitched giggle. “Yeah, like I’m sure she’s really prime at Unicorn Fantastic. Or RainbowGems.”
The other kids laughed, ready to dismiss her.
Jennet gestured to the netscreens. “Do you guys play Rumble?”
Yellow-hoodie’s eyebrows went up. “What, you’re gonna challenge one of us to a duel? If you hadn’t noticed, princess, these are screens, not sims.”
“Ease up, Fernald,” Marny said, leaving her solo screen and walking over to the other gamers. “If she wants to duel, let her. Maybe she could show you a thing or two.”
“Right. You really want to duel?” The boy named Fernald folded his arms, then glanced at the skinny kid next to him. “Clarc would be a good pick—he’s fairly dud.”
The skinny boy flushed, but he didn’t say anything. Clearly Fernald was alpha dog in the Gaming Club.
“Or you could face off with Shella.” Fernald nodded to the purple-haired girl. “You know, stay at the female level. Girl on girl.”
This guy was an idiot. Jennet stepped forward. “Who’s the best player here? That’s the one I’m dueling.”
Fernald gave her a mean smile. “You’re looking at him.”
“Then we’re on.”
She was glad, actually. Fernald was too full of himself by far. And he was in for a serious battle, whether he knew it or not.
There was a general scramble as the gamers shifted, and an empty chair opened up for her. Jennet sat, put on the headset, and gave the 3D-mouse a couple test swipes.
It had been months since she’d played Rumble, but it was a pretty simple PVP combat game. The worst that could happen was that Fernald would end up beating her. She pressed her lips together. If he proved to be the best gamer in school, she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask his arrogant face for help—let alone spend time in Feyland with him.
“We’ll go Basic Mode, just for you,” Fernald said. “How’s that sound?”
Jennet shook her head. She wanted to push him, and herself, to the limit. “Hard Mode. Best two out of three.”
“You really want to eat cement twice in a row?” Fernald gave her a look of mock sympathy. “I’m not gonna cut you any breaks.”
“Whatever.” She selected the Rumble icon and pressed the play button.
The pre-set characters popped up, a dozen of them on the selection screen. She didn’t hesitate in making her choice—Nika, the ninja assassin. All that time spent dueling her friends last spring was about to pay off. If she wasn’t too rusty. She had one chance to remember how to play—one loss she could absorb. After that, she’d better be on.
“Ready,” she said, meeting Fernald’s stare.
“Ok, princess. Show me what you got.”
The arena appeared, a big walled circle enclosing the characters. Inside were the usual obstacles and traps: randomly scattered mines, a pit, some pillars, and a couple floating platforms. Jennet clicked through the function bars, reminding herself of Nika’s combat skills. Slice, Leap, Throwing Star, Dash.
Then Fernald’s character materialized—a massive tank-bot called Reaper. Good. That thing carried a lot of armor and some serious weaponry, but it was clumsy. She had the advantage of speed and maneuverability.
The tank-bot moved forward, bladed hands snicking together, but Jennet was faster. She leaped Nika onto one of the platforms and got a couple throwing-stars off. One of them stuck into the metal side of Reaper’s head, like a jagged earring, but it didn’t cause much damage. For that, she’d need to hit the vital spots—eyes, neck, under the ribs.
Reaper lurched forward, one arm now transformed into a laser-cannon. Red beams sliced the air, and she somersaulted Nika out of the way. Adrenaline zinged through her, and she felt her focus tighten up. Every shift of her fingers sent her character dancing away from the tank-bot.
Fernald let out a vicious laugh. “Fancy moves aren’t going to win this for you. Listen. You can still surrender.”
“I don’t think so.” Jennet dodged away, keeping far enough that Reaper couldn’t hack at her, but not so far that he could use his cannon again.
Just in time, she realized Fernald was backing her into the pit. Certain death from razor-sharp stakes waited at the bottom. For a moment Nika teetered on the edge, and she heard the other gamers suck in their breaths. She twisted the mouse violently and managed to fling her character to the side. Too slow. She’d evaded the pit, but the tank-bot was on her, clashing and slicing. There was no escape. Her screen flashed red, and Nika went down in a splash of blood and flutter of black cloth, defeated.
Jennet let out a silent breath. Okay. One round gone. She had to do better than that. She would do better than that.
“Yeah!” Fernald leaned back and cracked his knuckles. “You like that? Want some more?”
She was getting the rhythm of the game back into her body. This next fight she’d go on the offensive, take the tank-bot down with a quick assault. She didn’t think Fernald would expect that.
“Best two, remember?” She batted her eyelashes at him. “If you can beat me again, that is.”
“Heh. In your dreams.”
This time, when the arena opened, she didn’t hesitate. In two fast moves, she blocked Reaper’s clashing hands and slid a blade into his right eye. With a clank and groan, the tank-bot tilted and fell backwards. The ground shook when he landed, and a puff of dust rose in the air.
The gamers were silent. Most of them were staring at Fernald’s screen, but Marny was looking straight at her. A smile lifted the corner of the big girl’s mouth.
Fernald’s expression was as black and stormy as a tornado. “Lucky break. It happens. Even the worst noobs sometimes win—by a fluke.”
“But, dude,” the skinny boy began.
“Shut it, Clarc,” Fernald gave him an elbow to the side. “And get out of my way. It’s time to take the princess down.” He shot Jennet a narrow-eyed look. “Here comes your loss.”
He’d be on guard now, but Jennet knew she could take him. She grinned at him over the screen.
“In your dreams,” she said. She heard Marny smother a laugh.
Fernald scowled at her. Good. She had no doubt he’d rush her character and try what she’d just done. A quick and bloody death.
Sure enough, the tank-bot charged forward, this time carrying a huge axe. The weapon whistled down—but Nika was already gone, sliding around the side of Reaper, her blade seeking the weak spot under his ribs.
Fernald pivoted his character and tried to pound her again. At least he wasn’t a hopelessly bad gamer. Just an annoying one. She swallowed, and danced Nika back a few paces.
Click. Barely heard—the sound of a mine, primed and ready. Adrenaline surging, she hammered the dash command and ran Nika across the arena in a blur of black. There was a sudden, fiery explosion right where she had been standing.
“Dammit!” Fernald wasn’t as quick. The blast rocked Reaper, but didn’t take him down.
Now she was in trouble. Nika was out in laser-cannon range again, and she wouldn’t be able to dash for another ten seconds. Plenty of time for Fernald to hit her with a couple deadly shots. She had to keep him off-balance—and her character out of his sights. She dodged Nika behind one of the stubby pillars scattered through the arena.
“Hiding?” There was a sneer in Fernald’s voice.
“Yeah, and you’re it. Come and get me.” She checked the cooldown on her dash. Eight seconds.
Reaper clanked to the side, trying to maneuver for a clear shot. She circled Nika around the pillar, letting a flutter of black cloth show. Red beams shot past, taking out a part of the pillar. Time to find a new hiding spot—the whole pillar was probably next. She imagined Fernald thinking the same thing. Focusing the cannon on the pillar. Pulling the trigger—now!
She rolled to the side, and kept rolling as the pillar exploded. Five seconds to go. And nowhere else to hide.
Nika scrambled to her feet and started zigzagging across the arena. The earth around her was scored with holes as Reaper kept firing, tracking her path. He got an indirect hit, and Jennet winced as her screen flashed yellow. That was the warning that her health meter was plummeting. Three seconds. Time for a new plan.
“Shiiineh!” Nika’s battle-cry rang through the arena.
She changed her trajectory and ran straight at Reaper, flinging throwing-stars like glittering confetti in front of her. When she ran out of stars, she started on knives.
“What the—?” Fernald watched her crazy moves for the last crucial seconds. Then, with a chuckle, he raised his laser-gun. “Wow, you really are a noob.”
Deadly red beams shot out… into empty air. Nika’s dash had carried her past Reaper. She whirled, knives flashing, and sunk a lethal blow right between his ribs.
This time, Reaper crumpled into a heap of metal. Satisfaction swept through her like a warm tide.
“No way!” Fernald shoved his chair back and stood. “You used some kind of cheat. I should’ve known someone like you would use exploits. That was so—”
“Shut up, Fernald.” Marny’s voice was even. “She didn’t cheat. You lost. Deal.”
“I should’ve known. You freak girls stick together.”
With a last glare, the defeated gamer turned his back on them. He punched Clarc in the arm, then stomped out the door.
“Uh. That was really prime,” the skinny boy said, rubbing his arm. The admiration in his eyes was uncomfortably close to a full-on crush.
Jennet stood. “Well, thanks for letting me play. I sort of crashed your meeting.”
The purple-haired girl gave her a tentative smile. “It was about time someone took Fernald down. Come back again, k?”
“Sure. Do you think you’ll ever get some sim equip in here? That’s what I do, really.”
The girl shook her head. “Not in the next ten years, I don’t think. Unless VirtuMax wants to donate some.” She got a thoughtful look. “Hey. Maybe I should do a project on that.”
Clarc nodded eagerly, giving the purple-haired girl the same look he’d turned on Jennet. “Good idea, Shella. You’re so smart.”
“Well, thanks again,” Jennet said. “It’s been… interesting.”
She turned, to find Marny standing there.
“More than interesting,” the big girl said. “Best afternoon I’ve had in a while. My name is—”
“Marny. I know.”
There was a flash of surprise in Marny’s eyes, quickly masked. Then her mouth quirked up. “Yeah. And you’re Jennet.”
“Glad we got that sorted out.” Jennet smiled—one of the first real smiles she’d felt since coming to Crestview. “So…is Fernald really the best player here? Or was he just boasting?”
She had wanted to defeat him—to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face. But at the same time, she’d hoped, she’d needed, to find a prime gamer here.
Marny shrugged. “Fernald’s as good as any of them are.”
Jennet gave her a close look. She hadn’t seen Marny play, but obviously the girl knew something about gaming.
“What about you? Do you sim?”
“Me? Nah.” Marny shook her head, her bobbed black hair swinging around her face.
Too bad. Of everyone she had met so far, she liked Marny. They might have made a good team—if only the girl were a simmer. Jennet would much rather have Marny’s solid presence beside her in Feyland than that jerk Fernald.
“Is there someplace else people go to play?” Jennet glanced around the Media Room. “I mean, someplace with sim-systems?”
“My uncle has a sim-café. Though you don’t seem the type to go there, frankly. Don’t you have a system at home?”
“Yes. I was just… wondering,” Jennet said. “Anyway. Good meeting you.”
She felt her brief happiness fade, like an ember dying out. So much for the Gaming Club. Now what? The sim-café? That kind of place was for people who couldn’t afford systems or pay the monthly access fees on the top games. She could try looking there—but she already knew it would be a dead end. Despair boxed her in, dark heavy walls with no windows, no doors.
“Hold on.” Marny’s brown eyes held a spark. “You know, if you’re looking for a simmer you should talk to my friend Tam.”
“Tam? Tam Linn?”
The sullen boy in her World History class who never brushed the hair out of his eyes? The ragged kid from the Exe? No way.
"Yep. He won his system in a sim tournament. You should see him play. He's flawless."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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