I started to push away from my desk when I noticed that the top drawer was slightly ajar and something bright and red was peeking out. I pulled it open and found The Tao of Pooh tucked inside. With a hard cover and made from real paper, it wasn’t hard to surmise who’d left it there for me. Thumbing through the pages, I had to smile. No matter what creed, religion, or faith I believed in, or not, all I really knew for sure was that I have this life. Maybe there would be no bonus round. No respawns. But when I finally get to the end and see that game-over screen, I hope my score represents how many times I leveled up as a human being, and how many lives I changed along the way. Not how big my bank account was.
I closed the book, wrapped my cell around my wrist, left the office, and joined the team on the living-room couch.
“Work’s done,” I announced, plopping down next to Hannah. All four of my teammates were strewn about the living room, controllers in hands. Need for Speed was on the screen. Lily had Unagi the Eel wrapped around her shoulders as she played. Every once in a while, she’d lean toward Derek until he yelped and drove off the road.
Beside me, Hannah leaned toward the coffee table and nudged a pizza box my way.
“Try it.”
I flipped the box open to find a fresh, steaming pizza with extra cheese. I picked up a slice and sunk my teeth in.
Oh, dear Lord. It was beautiful.
The cheese was delicious and gooey, and the crust was crisp. I devoured the entire piece. Hannah laughed and dropped a controller in my hand. I grinned and started tapping buttons, customizing my vehicle of choice. I was halfway through the first lap when my cell phone buzzed. I glanced at the ID.
The VGL.
It was nearly midnight, a somewhat unseemly time to call, but it was expected. This would be our condolence call. Thanks for participating in the tournament, and we’re sorry . . .
Yeah, sorry. This is exactly what they wanted. Team Defiance out before the championship round.
Hannah grabbed my wrist. “Don’t answer it.”
“Team owners don’t get nights off.” I passed her my controller. She frowned but took control of my car and joined the race with my other teammates.
I pulled the phone from my wrist, clicked the ACCEPT button, and pressed it to my ear. “Kali Ling speaking.”
“Hello, Ms. Ling. This is Farouk Nasser. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
Ah, the New Games Coordinator. I put on my business voice.
“Not at all. What can I help you with?”
“I’m calling to offer my condolences.”
Knew it. I had to smile. “People lose. It happens.”
He faltered. “Not about the tournament, Ms. Ling. About Cole Wilkinson. He was your former teammate, wasn’t he?”
I stood up off the couch. “Yeah, why? What happened?”
“You don’t know? It’s all over the news.”
The news. We hadn’t tuned in for hours. With technology nowadays, that might as well have been for days.
“What’s going on?”
“Cole was in a car accident. Both teams from tonight were involved.”
I tapped Hannah’s tablet and opened the television remote app. The in-progress game cut out to the local news station. My teammates erupted in protest, dropping their controllers.
“Hey!”
“What the hell, Kali?”
A scrolling newscast popped up. The whipping blades of a drone filled the speakers as a reporter spoke over the background noise.
“. . . as you can see here, the site of this horrific accident . . .”
The camera hovered over a pile of black fiberglass, warped metal, and popped tires smoldering against the stretch of highway.
“. . . virtual gaming stars from teams Oblivion and Epoch were airlifted to a hospital earlier this evening. It is believed they were out celebrating tonight’s win, possibly joyriding, when they crashed into each other . . .”
The living room went silent, along with Farouk on the phone. He must have heard the news stream coming through. I stared at the screen, blinking. The wreckage. The warped fiberglass. Judging by that scene, there was a chance he wasn’t . . .
My bottom lip quivered as I forced myself to ask, “Is he alive?”
Farouk paused for what was probably just a few seconds but felt like an hour. “Yes. He’s in serious but stable condition. Both teams survived.”
I nodded to my teammates.
“Alive,” I mouthed to them.
They collectively sighed with relief.
Farouk cleared his throat. “Preliminary investigation by the authorities shows that alcohol and drugs were factors in the crash.” He paused for effect. It had one. My stomach dropped through my toes. “Now, if both teams were high, how were they going to compete in the championship in two weeks?”
“I can’t really answer that for you.”
“Of course not. But we pulled every drug test from Teams Oblivion and Epoch. Most of them have been tampered with.”
I knew that. I’d seen them partying hard at the clubs. I just never expected this.
“I want you to know I urged the VGL to ban both team owners from participating in any VGL divisions effective immediately.”
“That’s good,” I said, hoping my snarl wasn’t coming through the phone. “I’m glad you’ve made that decision.”
“I realize this might be a lot to handle at once, but as the New Games Coordinator, I have a strong say in what happens next. My opinion is that the last two teams knocked out should be put back into the tournament.”
Though I knew what he was saying, it wouldn’t process. He was talking about the tournament while two of the teams were in the hospital. I ignored my disgust and forced my brain to trudge forward. If the last two teams out took the slots, we were back in, alongside Jessica’s team, Legacy.
I cleared my throat. “The championship slots belong to Epoch and Oblivion. Not to us. We didn’t earn it, and I’m not about to take it away from them.”
Farouk was quiet for a minute. “I understand your perspective, Ms. Ling. But regardless of the accident, Oblivion and Epoch would have been disqualified for drug use. The accident only brought it to light.”
A light the VGL couldn’t ignore. They had to ban the team owners and replace the teams in the game. But was it right for us to take Cole’s spot? He was a friend. Now he was lying in the hospital, and we were going to take over his dream. My stomach churned. No, that just didn’t feel right. Besides, why would the VGL work so hard at kicking me out just to bring me back in again?
Was Farouk the one sending me the e-mails? Or was this all just another setup?
“Given what happened with the other teams,” Farouk continued, “we’ll be conducting a full review of all drug testing before officially allowing any team back into the tournament.”
“We had a failed test earlier in the season,” I reminded him.
“Yes, but you reported it and took the penalty. Did you have any other failed tests we don’t know about?”
“No.”
“Well then, your choice to report that test might have just earned your team another shot at the championship.”
A shot at the championship. A shot that was supposed to be Cole’s. I sat on the couch and pressed my free hand against my forehead. My brain felt sluggish. There were thoughts swimming through it, but nothing was processing.
“Oh,” Farouk added, “also, I feel it’s important to inform you that some e-mails from within the VGL were leaked to a couple of team owners. We’re not sure if you received anything, but I’m asking that you delete it if you haven’t already.”
I picked up on his slip of the tongue instantly. We’re not sure if you received it, speaking in third person for the VGL. But I’m asking that you delete it, speaking first person, directly from him. It was sou
nding more and more like he was my mysterious whistle-blower.
I took a chance.
“I’ll be sure to do that.” I cleared my throat. “Thanks for the pointer on what was going on . . . with the e-mails, I mean.”
“Of course.” It went silent on the line for a minute, like he was trying to tell me telepathically that he was on my side.
He broke the silence. “We can’t go public with this change in the tournament until our examination of your records is complete. It will take us at least twenty-four hours. Please keep the news to yourself until you hear the official announcement from us.”
“Of course. I understand.”
“I’ll be in touch regarding the results,” he continued. “But I’m fairly confident when I say, welcome to the championship.”
I ended the call.
I sat in my chair for a few minutes. At least, my body was in my chair. My head wasn’t quite attached. We had a new shot at the championship because Cole and his team were lying in hospital beds. Now, that didn’t seem fair at all. Should we even take it?
Was that the right thing to do?
I sunk down into the couch, staring at nothing in the distance.
“Kali?”
I blinked and turned toward the rest of the team.
“What is it?” Hannah asked, and I realized she was the one who had called my name.
“Both teams crashed because they were high. Looks like their owners were tampering with their drug tests. They’ve been banned from the league.”
“That’s good,” Derek said. “That’s what should happen.”
“I hope you realize that’s because of you, Kali,” Rooke added. “A year ago, the VGL would never have banned them.”
I nodded. “I know . . .”
Hannah leaned forward, tilting her head. “What’s wrong?”
I swallowed and pushed the words out of my mouth.
“We have a second chance at the championship.”
Everyone shifted to the edge of their seats, though I wasn’t sure they were even aware of their actions. It was silent in the room for several seconds. Finally, Derek spoke up.
“What do you mean?”
“They need teams to fill their spots in the championship. Since we’re last out, we’re first back in.”
“Does that mean Legacy is back in, too?” Hannah asked.
Technically, yes. They would be the ones to fill Epoch’s spot. Which meant Jessica had another shot at one last championship before retiring, and I had one last chance to face my idol inside the game.
Lily stood from the couch and started walking away. I squinted as I watched her leave, wondering why she’d walked away so abruptly.
“Lil,” I called. “Where are you going?”
She turned back to me and blinked.
“The hospital.”
I didn’t even have to say anything to the rest of the team. In an instant, we were all moving through the house and heading out the door.
CHAPTER 21
The five of us gathered outside Cole’s hospital room. The entire wall between the hallway and the room wasn’t really a wall but a translucent screen that could be programmed to tint, darken, or display images on command. Currently, the screen was clear, leaving Cole completely visible to anyone walking past, probably so the doctors and security could keep an eye on him.
Speaking of security, there were plenty in the hallway, with two guards at every door and a few more patrolling the corridors. Probably there to keep the fans or the paparazzi from snapping pictures of the teams in their current state. None of them made a move to remove us, though, and one of them even nodded our way. Sometimes, being recognizable had its advantages.
“He looks so small,” Hannah said, pressing an open palm against the glass. “How does a guy that big look so small?”
He did look small, and alone, lying in that bed. Needles poked out of both arms, and exoskeletal casts covered his right leg and foot, and his left wrist. With that many broken bones, there was no way he’d be competing for the rest of the year. Maybe even the next. In an instant, his dreams of becoming a champion had been shattered. I couldn’t imagine what that felt like, let alone the pain he must have been in.
A doctor strolled up to us, making notes on his tablet. “Friends or family?”
“Friends,” I said. “Is he okay?”
“He’s got several broken bones, severe whiplash, and a lot of bruising, but nothing too serious. He was lucky. He’ll be in casts for a while and will need some physical therapy, but he’ll recover.”
“How is the rest of the team?”
“Two are currently in surgery, but everyone survived.”
I nodded at Cole through the glass. “Can we see him?”
“Normally, we’d only let family in, but they haven’t arrived yet. I think only one of you should—”
Four sets of hands pressed into my back and pushed me forward.
Okay, I guess it’s me.
The doctor slid the door open for me, and I walked into the room. My shoes clicked along the floor until I reached his side. Cole’s eyelids fluttered, and he peered up at me, squinting, like he was trying to focus on my face.
“Hey,” I said softly.
He groaned, but managed a smile. “Hey.”
“Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Some.” He pointed at the IV bag, which I assumed was administering morphine. “I like that.” He looked back to me. “Are you here to buy another team? I’ve heard we’re for sale.”
I saddled my hip on the edge of the bed. “Sorry this happened to you.”
He shrugged. “Shit happens.”
Shit happens. He was full of broken bones, and his career might have been over. To me, that demanded a stronger reaction. I glanced at the IV bag. Maybe it was the painkillers talking.
“You’re taking this rather lightly,” I told him. “When you’re off the morphine, I’m not sure you’ll feel the same way.”
“Morphine doesn’t change anything. I could’ve died, but I didn’t.” He waved a hand at his body. “This just sets the stage for an epic comeback story.”
I guess if you had to go through a painful, months-long recovery, a positive attitude was the best way to handle it.
I twiddled my thumbs as I pushed the next words out of my mouth. “The VGL called me. They want us to take your spot. You were in this horrific accident, and they’re concerned about who will be in the championship.”
Cole chuckled to himself, then coughed and gripped his side. He winced. “It’s a business. None of us are going to be able to compete for a while. Somebody has to take our place.” He studied me for a minute. “You are taking our spot, right?”
I made a face. “Well . . .”
He sat up a little, grimacing as he did. “Kali. You have to take our spot. You deserve it.”
“We don’t,” I said simply. “You do.”
He glanced down at his body. “We made some stupid choices. Maybe that means we don’t deserve it. What if becoming a champion isn’t just about how you play the game? Think about it. No one sees all the prep we do. The endless training. The insane diets. Early mornings. Late nights. All they see are the matchups and whether or not we win. To them, that’s all it takes. Talent and luck. But you and I know it’s a lot more than that. It’s an endless grind to reach the top; and then you have to work twice as hard just to stay there. So, being a champion isn’t really about winning. It’s about how you choose to live your life and how hard you’re willing to work for it. By those standards, you deserve a shot.”
I rolled my bottom lip through my teeth as I considered his words. “But how is that—”
He held up a hand. “If you don’t take our place, I’ll be pissed.”
I sighed. “I’ll, uh, talk it over with the team.” I
pushed off the bed and shoved my hands in my pocket. “You take care of yourself.”
“Take care of myself?” He scoffed. “Why? I have a cute nurse.”
I laughed.
“I’ll see you in the arena sometime.”
He scoffed again. “Yeah, if I recover.”
“Like I said, see you in the arena.”
We shared a smile. He would be back. His attitude and determination were too strong not to. Gaming wasn’t just a career. It was a passion. A calling. I’m sure when we were all in our eighties, while most were enjoying their retirement, we’d still be playing the games we loved, albeit, slower.
Much, much slower.
I turned away from Cole and headed for the door.
“Hey, Kali?”
I turned back.
“That last round, you looked like you were struggling. Were you guys just having an off night?”
This time, I chewed on my bottom lip so hard I nearly bit it off. If I told him the truth, that the game was working against us, it would be petty and take away from their victory—if he even believed me.
“No, we weren’t having an off night,” I said, and a smile slowly spread across my face. “You were the better opponent. We were really feeling it.”
He considered that and nodded, and we shared one last smile before I walked out.
“Good luck in the championship,” he called, as the door slid shut behind me.
The championship. Even with his blessing, it still didn’t feel right.
When we arrived back at the house, I broke away from the team.
“I need to be alone for a while.”
I went to my office and closed the door. Much to my surprise, and a little to my disappointment, no one followed me. I sat at my desk, trying to process the night. What time was it? Three forty-five in the morning. I wasn’t even tired. Numb, maybe. But wide-awake. Learning one of your friends had almost died was like combining an entire pot of coffee, a bucket of ice water, and a handful of amphetamines. I’d be lucky if I slept well in a week.
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