My blood boiled, and suddenly it felt as if steam was about to escape my ears. I was sure Brian noticed the flush in my cheeks. Fuck you, twerp.
“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, and you’ll be happy to know that I have found a place and signed all the papers days ago!” I snapped up my books, notecards and notebook, gathering them in my arms. “And you can lay off the bullshit. I realize we don’t like each other, but you know what? We both love Heath. And though I’m moving out soon, I will always be in his life. So you had better accept that, little chickadee.”
I stood up and stomped to my room, leaving Brian with his eyebrows sky high and his mouth agape. I only just resisted slamming the door.
I’d never shown open hostility to him like that before and had taken his needling without response for far too long.
Not anymore.
With a sigh, I realized that, having spilled the beans to Brian, I would now have to come clean with Heath about the studio above the garage. In spite of his aversion to it, he hadn’t been able to find me any better prospects—as I’d suspected he wouldn’t.
Despite my best efforts, I fell asleep on my bed in less than half an hour, my study session ruined thanks to asshole Brian. When I woke from my nap, the apartment was empty again and it was dark out. I was in no mood to go back to my studies yet, nor did I feel like going running. So to blow off some steam, I logged onto the game.
I wasn’t even fully logged in when a message from a complete stranger flashed across my screen.
*RageRod tells you, Hey Baby.
Ugh. Really? RageRod?
*RageRod tells you, Are you a real girl?
*You tell RageRod, More real than your toy blow-up doll, kiddo.
RageRod: I don’t have a blow-up doll.
Me: Well then, maybe you should get one and stop pestering every female avatar you see.
RageRod: You’re totally a dude. They need more real girls playing this game.
Me: Because then they’d have to pay attention to you?
RageRod: You’re not very nice.
Me: Perhaps you should tell your elementary school’s principal on me. Now… don’t talk to me anymore.
*You are now ignoring RageRod
A new message flashed on my screen minutes later as I was in the bank. I almost went ballistic, figuring the douchebag had made a new toon to message me with. Instead, I saw with relief that it was Kat. Just the person to brighten my mood.
*Persephone tells you, I think FallenOne likes you.
*You tell Persephone, What?
Her: You heard me.
I heaved a big sigh.
Me: Are we back in high school? Besides…why would you think that?
Her: Because twice now, he’s logged on and grouped up with me for a few minutes before asking where you were. When I said you were in class or busy, he promptly made up some excuse about how he had to go.
Me: I’m sure it’s a coincidence.
Her: Okay. If you say so. But he never logs on asking for me or Fragged.
Me: We’ve already determined that he’s kind of weird, though, right? Who knows what goes on in a reclusive gamer dude’s head.
Her: We should apply the scientific method to my theory sometime, if you are willing.
Me: /shrugs. Figure out a way to do that and I’m game!
Her: Right, I’ll start with step one: make an observation. As there is but little background information on our mysterious friend, I have only his in-game behavior to go on. He logs on and asks for you regularly. When you are not available, he quickly logs off. When you are, he stays and plays with you (or with the group as a whole).
Me: Sigh. Okay…your inquiry?
Her: Does FallenOne have feelings for Mia?
Me: And your hypothesis?
Her: FallenOne has developed special feelings for Mia… and vice versa.
Me: Now you’re getting annoying.
Her: Prediction based on my hypothesis about FallenOne and Mia. First comes LOOOOOOVE. Then comes marriage. Then comes the baby in the baby carriage.
Me: ..|..
Her: Now I must test my hypothesis by asking subtle questions to FallenOne about his love life…and whether or not he believes in cyber romance!
Me: Good luck with that. I want no part of it.
***
Soon after, the Dragon Epoch stress beta test ended. Since there would be no character wipe, we were permitted to continue playing our same characters from the beta. The NDA was lifted, and I was permitted to post to my blog about Dragon Epoch.
In fact, I was in the middle of writing a new blog post when I decided to check my ad revenue. It was nearly time to pay the bills again, and I was furiously working toward the goal of this blog paying for itself—even better if it started bringing in a little spending money.
To that end, I was astonished to note that the balance for my account had undergone a significant increase. This then prompted me to check my stats.
Since posting the new content about Dragon Epoch, the number of hits on my blog had increased by a factor of hundreds. My jaw dropped.
“Holy crap!”
Heath looked up from his work. “What?”
“My blog hits are going crazy. I haven’t even blogged about anything controversial or particularly newsworthy lately. It does look like the Dragon Epoch articles are getting the most attention, though.”
“Everybody’s hungry for info on the new game,” he said with a shrug. “You getting lots of Google hits?” He came around the desk to get a look at my screen. “Let me—holy crap that is a huge jump in hits! And very sudden, too. See the change from this day to the next? Give me a second to do some backtracking and see where the traffic is coming from.”
After a few minutes, he blew out his breath and shook his head. “Wow. Looks like someone over at Draco Multimedia found your blog. You’ve been featured on their main landing page.”
I blinked. “Really?”
“Yup.” He smirked. “I wonder if this means they’re going to start putting some clothes on the poor naked ladies that have been running around Yondareth up ‘til this point?”
I logged into my blog interface to check comments. Dozens of them. Most thoughtful, respectful even. I had to block a few trolls, and I now had a lot of questions to answer.
It took me hours that night to get through them all. The blog had just become a lot more work—with the reward of more money, too. Which was a good thing, really. But yet another demand on my already slim amount of free time.
And I had to admit it was a little creepy knowing that employees at the gaming company responsible for my new favorite obsession were reading my blog—snarky commentary and criticisms included.
Wow.
It was a weird feeling—of validation, gratification, and yeah, of being watched. I sensed that this was my fifteen minutes of fame, so I’d capitalize on it while I could. Besides, I needed the money for my move, so I’d welcome the attention with open arms.
I threw a glance at Heath, who had gone back to his work. I’d told him about signing the papers to move into the new place, since I’d already spilled the beans to Brian. Heath had been a little miffed at first, but he’d recovered, fortunately. And I’d refrained from repeating Brian’s shitty little remarks.
However, since I wouldn’t have access to a moving truck until the next weekend, my plan was to slowly move a box or two over the next little while. The landlady, Lupe, was nice enough to allow me to do it, even though my contracted move-in date wasn’t for a few weeks due to the apartment getting a repaint and carpet cleaning.
I couldn’t deny, though, the little thrill I got about having my very own place. Tiny studio or not. It would be mine. All mine.
***
A few days later, I schlepped yet another box, this one full of books, to my new apartment. I was just coming down the stairs when I ran into—almost literally—a young woman about my age. When she got over her initial shock of seeing me, she smiled
widely and stuck out her hand.
“Hi! I’m Alex. You must be the new tenant.” She looked me straight in the eyes without the snotty once-over that some women my age seemed to give when seeing someone new. Their eyes skimmed a new person from head to toe, cataloging every scrap of attire as if running it through a super-fast computer—like the one inside Iron Man’s suit. But Alex’s eyes did none of that.
I took her hand and shook it. “Hi, Alex. I’m Mia.” Her impossibly wide smile extended even further and she leaned forward enthusiastically. I hadn’t met someone this overtly friendly in a long time.
“I’m your new landlady’s daughter.” Alex was a pretty girl with long, dark hair, an olive complexion and impossibly large, almost anime-like doe eyes. And her make-up was applied to perfection. “And you’re a Browncoat!” Her voice glided up an octave on the last word as she pointed to my Firefly t-shirt.
I looked down, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah, that’s me… Mal and Inara forever!” I’ve always loved a strong female who stood up to the object of her ongoing attraction, in spite of his outspoken protest of her profession.
“High-five!” She held her hand up and I gently slapped it. “Girl’s got taste. Great ‘ship! I’m all about the Kaylee/Simon ‘ship myself!”
I grinned. I liked her already. Any girl immediately zooming in on my geeklove had my immediate respect.
“Next question,” she said, shifting her stance. “Who’s your favorite Doctor?”
I laughed. “That’s easy. The ninth!”
She pumped a fist. “Woo-hoo. Love it! You’re coming to my next drinking party! I live in Fullerton. Since you’re down here in Orange, I assume you’re attending Chapman?”
I nodded. “Yep. I’m a junior. You?”
“Sophomore at Cal State Disneyland.” Her crooked smile accompanied California State University Fullerton’s popular nickname. “It’s great to meet you, Mia. I gotta run before my mom comes out here and asks me to do something else for her.” She rolled her eyes. “But I’ll be back for dinner next week. You’ll be moved in by then, yeah?”
“Once the apartment’s ready, yes!”
“Okay well, I’ll definitely see you around! Take care.”
I smiled and watched her hurry toward the curb where her car was parked. Well, that was encouraging. Not even moved in yet and I’d already made a potential new friend.
Making my way to my car, I couldn’t help but feel grateful. The landlady seemed nice and her daughter equally so. Maybe this was a sign of good things to come! Maybe it was a good thing I was being forced out from under the protection of my surrogate big brother to stretch my wings. Hopefully soon, I’d become a productive member of society. Now I just needed to ace the MCAT.
Piece of cake, right?
***
*FallenOne tells you, Hey, you!
I looked up at my notifications, eyes widening. It was late morning and Tuesday was my lightest day—only one class and no shifts at work. I’d logged on to do some virtual banking in the game and to check to see if there was any armor in the auction house that I could buy for my character.
With a small thrill I noted, if only to myself, that FallenOne had logged in right after me.
*You tell FallenOne, Well hello, stranger! You haven’t been around much lately.
Him: TONS of work to do. Sorry.
Me: Well, you missed the grand opening of the game. The beta test is a done deal! And the wave of newbs has flowed onto the servers…
Him: So I noticed. But people seem to be liking it a lot.
Me: What’s not to like? Fun part is that the NDA has been lifted, so now I can post about it!
Him: I’ve seen that! I’m still reading the blog.
Me: You and a lot of other people. It’s getting me so swamped. But that’s a good thing, even though it’s cutting into game time. Hardly gotten a chance to run around since the opening.
Him: I’ve got a little bit of time this weekend…
Me: Ugh. I don’t. Sorry. Going up to my Mom’s for the weekend. I’m moving out soon!
Him: Congrats! You moving in with roommates or a special someone?
I raised my brows. Was that his way of trying to find out if I had a boyfriend? I bit my lip, thinking back to Katya’s suspicions.
Me: Nope. There is no “special someone” in my life. I’m moving because Heath’s boyfriend wants to move in with him.
Him: Ah, okay. I hope you have lots of help moving. Maybe I’ll see you around next week?
Me: Sure. You want to just text me when you’re free, and I can see if I can hop on? You know it would be so cool if you could send a message to someone in the game, and if they’re not online, it would just appear as a text on their phone.
Him: That’s a pretty good idea.
Me: Yeah, but maybe they can’t do that. I’m sure they would have implemented it if they could. I can’t possibly have been the first person to come up with that.
Him: Why not put it into the beta-tester suggestion box?
Smiling, I didn’t mention having tried that a couple of times already and receiving nothing but crickets in response.
I sent Fallen my VOIP number, which forwarded texts to my new prepaid cell phone—just in case of the unlikely event that he was a stalker or something. I’d known him for months and he seemed normal, but… you could never be too safe where the Internet was concerned.
An hour later, a text from him showed up on my phone. And thus, we started texting, off and on, semi-regularly. Maybe a significant friendship could grow from randomly meeting on the Internet… you never could tell.
I had to admit I did Google the number to see if I could find out anything more about him. It was a dead end, though, of course. The area code was from some place in the panhandle of Texas.
And he didn’t strike me as a cowboy. Or an armadillo. Stymied again.
Chapter 5: Bad News
My mom lived in a little town in the mountains just above Temecula, about a two-hour drive from where I attended college in the City of Orange. The following weekend, Heath drove me there in a borrowed truck to fetch a few pieces of old furniture and bring back some supplies for my new apartment. In the end, I think he was relieved that things had been resolved so easily.
Of course, Brian had been ecstatic that I was on my way out. Yeah, sensitive to Heath’s torn feelings on the matter, he was not. Asshole.
Nevertheless, for Heath’s sake, I wished them well together, though I had my doubts that they were compatible. Sure, they were attracted to each other, but they fought like Mario and Bowser. I said nothing because Heath seemed hopeful about the move and the relationship. During our drive, he chatted about their plans to buy a condo up in the Orange Hills. As bad as it was, all I could think of was who would get to keep it when they broke up.
“Mom!” I called as I entered through the front door. She was in the kitchen and pushed through the double doors hurriedly to greet us.
“There they are. My twins!”
She’d given us that nickname in high school. I’d hated it at first but now thought it was funny. Heath and I could not look less alike. Where he was tall, brawny, blond, and fair, I had dark hair, brown eyes, and a tall but lithe figure. And, thanks to my Greek roots, my skin was slightly more amenable to tanning than his ruddy Norse heritage had afforded him.
As I hadn’t seen my mother in almost two months, I held her tight in a bear hug. She seemed… thinner. And when I pulled back and looked in her eyes, she looked tired. There were bags under her eyes and she was a little pale.
I also hadn’t missed the lack of cars parked in the side driveway. “Where are the guests?”
“Oh, I closed bookings for a bit to give myself a little break.” Her dark eyes darted away from mine. “Spring cleaning and all that…”
I frowned but didn’t press it. Why close down the B&B during high season? And here, spring was definitely the height of the season. The high desert early spring was not
to be missed. Beautiful flowers of every imaginable color carpeted the desert for a short period of time—sometimes only two or three weeks before the scorching sun desiccated the plants. It usually brought the crowds in droves this time of year.
Mom prepared our favorite meals, and Heath took full advantage of the flora being in full bloom, indulging in his photography passion. One day he even took off on an hour-long drive out to Anza-Borrego State Park. His photos had been getting better and better, and he’d been taking classes to improve his craft.
As usual, he deftly avoided seeing his own parents, despite the fact that they only lived six miles down the road from Mom.
I spent my time helping Mom air out the rooms and give them all a deep cleaning. We stripped bedding and washed it, dusted along ceilings and light fixtures, scrubbed baseboards, and even washed the windows.
We were finishing up one of the cottages—Roy Rogers, our premium room. She was polishing the small rustic table set up as a writing desk, while I was on the ground wiping down the baseboards.
“You’re old enough now that I’m going to feel guilty not paying you an honest wage for all this free labor,” she joked.
I shrugged and smiled. “It feels good. Gets my mind off things.”
“Your exam?”
I shrugged. “Yeah… that… and other things.”
It had been bugging me since yesterday, actually. The emptiness of the B&B, the hollowness in Mom’s cheeks. Something was going on. Something she seemed to be hiding from me.
I bit the inside of my cheek. Did people do that? Hide important things—possibly even unpleasant things—from their family members?
I’d have to find a way to pry the truth out of her. But should I be subtle and poke around the subject or just point-blank ask?
“Anything you want to talk about?” She wiped the last bit of polish from the wood and sat back to watch me. I ran a clean cloth over the baseboards one more time.
Girl Geek: A Gaming The System Prequel Page 5
