Girl Geek: A Gaming The System Prequel

by Brenna Aubrey

  In spite of my distracted state, I always got a little thrill whenever FallenOne private messaged me first. I leaned forward to reply.

  *You tell FallenOne, Sorry. Preoccupied.

  Him: How’s your mom?

  Me: Getting better. I think. Won’t know for sure until she goes in to get a scan in a few months.

  Him: I’m sure she’ll be okay.

  Me: My research professor tries to reassure me, too. He’s an oncologist, so I guess he knows WTF he’s talking about. But it’s one thing to know something in your head and a different thing to feel that fear in your heart, know what I mean?

  Him: Sure. Yes. I definitely do.

  Me: I’ve decided I want to be an oncologist. Cancer needs its ass kicked—badly.

  Him: That’s awesome… not only because you’ve decided to choose that in honor of your mom, but that you know what you want to do at such a young age. What are you, 20? 21?

  Me: Are you actually asking me personal questions while telling me nothing about yourself? I ask your a/s/l and you just answer that you’re a dude. I don’t even know if THAT is true.

  Except I did. I’d heard his voice on the phone. For a few garbled minutes, anyway. A few minutes which had sparked my curiosity for more. But he’d never offered to call again, and my pride may have been too bruised to ask him for another phone call. I wanted him to offer it. Though I got the feeling, given his pervasive reluctance to divulge details about himself, Fallen was studiously avoiding the subject of another phone call.

  I sat back with a sigh and waited, ignoring the fight on the screen as I stared at the blinking cursor in the dialogue box, wondering how he’d answer. Would he finally come clean or evade, like usual? I had to admit that I was intensely curious about him and became more curious as days went by—which only meant that he became much stingier with his info. And, of course, I began to wonder if he was playing a game within the game.

  Him: I practice cyber safety. *Strict cyber safety.

  Me: So you’re afraid I’m going to find you, stalk you and boil your pet rabbit?

  Him: Never had a pet rabbit, fortunately. And anonymity is a gift. It’s hard to give up—sometimes so hard that it’s almost impossible, even when you want to. I guess it’s kind of like burrowing yourself into a cozy little hole and not wanting the gig to be up.

  Me: Now it’s sounding like YOU are the rabbit.

  Him: I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be difficult. I just think it’s better this way.

  My mouth quirked when I read that line. That meant he was married or had a girlfriend. Definitely a girlfriend, at the very least. Perhaps he’d been understating the matter in true male fashion when he’d mentioned his date was “just a friend.” Who knew? And why did I care?

  He was just a friend, right? Like Heath? And Kat? And what I hoped Alex and Jenna might become someday? Someone I could depend upon—and could depend on me in turn.

  But how could I ever become close friends with someone I knew next to nothing about? Was that even possible? And did I really want a friend like that?

  We wiped again, and Heath called it a night with a frustrated sigh. My shoulders slumped, knowing I’d let everyone down. Katya made her excuses soon after, and then it was just Fallen and me, grinding away on dailies—repeatable quests that gave us experience and some other benefits.

  It also gave us a chance to continue our previous chat.

  Me: If anonymity is a gift, then maybe I should practice some too.

  Him: Fair enough. I can respect that.

  Me: You pretty much have to…

  I tapped my fingers over my palmed mouse, waiting for his comeback. It never came. He changed the subject instead!

  Him: So let me ask you this…why do you want to be a doctor?

  Me: Whoa, that wasn’t even a subtle sidestep.

  Him: Sorry. I just figured that we had said all that needed to be said on the subject. Don’t you?

  Me: Hmm. I suppose. But we’re back to personal questions again.

  Him: Not identifying questions, though…

  Me: I guess so… I’ve always wanted to be a doctor to help people.

  Him: That’s cool. I admire that.

  Me: How about you? Do you know what you want to do?

  Or maybe he was already doing what he wanted to do. That question assumed he was still young enough to be deciding his future. Maybe being a middle-aged basement-dwelling mailman was indeed his lifelong dream!

  Him: More or less. I’m of the same mind as you. I want to help people too, but in a different way. By entertaining them. Or giving them a way to escape.

  God, I hope that meant he was an actor-wannabe and not some paid escort, which is what it sounded like. But hey, escorts made a lot of money so…whatever worked for him. I couldn’t stop giggling at the thought: FallenOne, College Gigolo.

  Him: It’s getting late…I should probably go. And so should you. After all, you have to take on the world, right?

  Me: That’s me, world changer!

  Him: Tell me you’re going to re-register for the MCAT next month.

  Me: I’ll think about it.

  This same little routine seemed to repeat itself at the end of all of our gaming sessions—Fallen nagging me to register for a test retake, me pushing back due to fear.

  It was endearing. And…sweet. And frustrating, because he was still holding back. Katya had told me she thought he’d come around eventually. That he was just shy. But I figured my guess was probably more accurate…

  He was hiding a big secret. I had no idea what it was, but pondering this mystery was making me tired, to be honest.

  I needed friends. Friends who didn’t hold back. Friends whom I could count on in the real world for support. I vowed to hang out with Alex and Jenna more—when I could fit it in—and say “yes” to whatever they proposed next.

  I just prayed that it wasn’t some crazy college antics, or a frat party or something…

  ***

  Weeks later, I got that chance on a rare night off. And fortunately, it wasn’t a frat party. Instead of gaming, I hung out with Jenna and Alex at their off-campus apartment in Fullerton.

  It was late. Late late. I should’ve been on my way home, but I sat hunched in their dark living room in front of their aging TV—a big fat CRT that Alex inherited when her mom upgraded to a flat screen. The popcorn bowl had long since transformed into a greasy vessel of congealed melted butter, salt and a billion unpopped kernels.

  Through the holes in my sweater—while hiding the fact that I was trying to hide— I watched the “Bushwhacked” episode of Firefly with Alex and Jenna. The crew of Serenity had discovered a derelict ship floating in space with no known survivors aboard. And, knowing nothing of what had occurred on the ship, they searched it for loot and to hopefully discover what happened.

  I’d seen the episode before—several times. As a devoted Firefly fan, I had about a dozen episodes from the short-lived but beloved TV series to choose from. I may have seen this particular one a dozen times, but it got me every time.

  “Oh shit, I hate anything to do with the Reavers,” Alex breathed. “They scare the crap out of me.” She shifted a big cushion in front of her face then occasionally peeked around it at the screen.

  The only one of us who appeared unaffected by the onscreen tension was Jenna, who sat with her legs crossed, her elbows resting on her knees, her chin in her hands, staring at the screen. “They’re gonna get you, Alex! The cannibalistic space pirates are going to sneak into your room tonight!”

  “Shut up, Jenna.”

  Jenna only snickered in response and then repeated Zoë’s famous quote about the villainous Reavers. “They’ll rape you to death, eat your flesh and sew your skin into their clothing. And if you’re very, very lucky, they’ll do it in that order.”

  I shuddered just as, onscreen, Jayne was hit from behind. Wildly pivoting, he started shooting. Alex and I both jumped when he was hit while Jenna continued smiling as if watching a
leprechaun riding a unicorn over a rainbow. Honestly, that girl had either seen this episode eight thousand times—a definite possibility—or had nerves of titanium, possibly both.

  Suddenly, we were startled by four figures who burst through the apartment door in the dark, shouting gutturally. We all jumped out of our seats and ran for the adjacent kitchen while the guys chased us wearing Halloween horror masks. My heart raced, the adrenaline pumping. Flailing about randomly with her hands, Alex emitted high-pitched screams. The more she shrieked, the more deep, harsh laughter came from the masked invaders. Even Jenna had let out a scream when they first entered. But now she was standing in the kitchen with her arms folded across her chest.

  “Okay, douchebags,” she finally said. “Very funny.”

  “Made ya scream, Jen. That’s one of a hundred that we owe you.”

  “Bite me, Orin,” she sneered, kicking a leg in the direction of his crotch. If he’d been standing closer, he’d have been the one letting loose a high-pitched scream. Even three feet away, he stepped back, yanking off his mask.

  “Assholes!” Alex screamed again. “I’m so getting you back for that.”

  “Hey, that was for the glitter-bombing! We’re even now,” one of them replied. Alex had told me about that prank. The girls had loaded up a box and labeled it “baked goods,” when it was actually a balloon-powered package of glitter explosions waiting to happen. “We’re still finding glitter all over the place. That was effin’ mean.”

  “Crybabies,” Jenna replied. “Maybe you should clean your filthy pit once in a while, and the glitter would be gone.”

  “Why don’t you clean it? Isn’t that what women are supposed to do anyway?”

  Wisely, they delivered that line while running out the door. Jenna chased them to the stairwell, cackling all the way, and they noticeably increased their speed. Smart of them. She would have kicked their asses—literally—if she’d caught them.

  She returned, breathing hard, as Alex and I were picking up the overturned bowl of popcorn kernels that Alex had launched at the intruders when they’d busted through the door.

  “Okay, we start our plans of revenge tonight,” Jenna muttered through clenched teeth.

  “Aren’t you afraid it’ll only escalate the conflict?” I picked popcorn crumbs from the outdated shag carpeting and glanced from one to the other.

  “A girl can’t back down,” Alex mumbled before leaving the room and quickly returning, lugging the vacuum. “Otherwise, they’ll keep terrorizing us. Speaking of which, lock the door in case they decide to come back. We need like a password or something.”

  “Yeah, I got one, No douche-canoes allowed,” Jenna grumbled.

  “Too obvious,” I objected, shaking my head. I glanced over at the TV where Mal Reynolds was facing off against the alliance commander. “We should make an all-girls club. No boys allowed. Just like grade school.”

  “We can make Heath an honorary member!” Alex chimed. Heath had met the girls a few weeks back, and they’d all gotten along well.

  “Our password should strike fear in the hearts of men everywhere,” Jenna said with a gleam in her eye.

  “I’ve got it!” Alex said. “Our password is: I aim to misbehave. And where those boys are concerned, that is definitely the truth!”

  “Even though Orin so wants to go out with you, Alex,” Jenna said with a smirk. “He’d totally drop this ongoing vendetta if you did.”

  “Hell to the no!” she hissed.

  Jenna approached us, holding out her hands. “So say we all? Our club—we won’t even name it. We’ll call it the Club That Shall Not Be Named. Girl power!”

  I put my hand on top of Jenna’s, and Alex rested hers atop mine. “We aim to misbehave!”

  “Maybe we can allow cute guys to be temporary members? Must be extremely hot, though.” Alex chewed her lip, thinking.

  “We can make Jack Eversea our mascot!” Jenna giggled. “He’s so dreamy.” Jack was Jenna’s celebrity crush du jour.

  “Okay, exceptions for hot guys. Especially dark-haired guys.” Alex nodded.

  “I like blonds and redheads better,” I chimed while weirdly wondering what color hair FallenOne had, then promptly reminded myself that I wasn’t going to think about him like that anymore.

  Both girls frowned at me. I always had to be the voice of dissent, didn’t I? Figured…

  Soon after, we began our nefarious plans to escalate this cycle of pranks against the boys in the building.

  Hey, I lived seven miles away from this building so I was safe from their retaliation. Therefore, I happily participated and hanging out with the girls was fun. It was real.

  At this point in my life, real was just what I needed.

  Chapter 10 : SWF seeks MHM

  “Yes. Just like that! Ohhhh baby!”

  The neighbors across the way were at it. Again.

  Due to the hot weather, I had my window open, which meant it was perfectly positioned, despite the distance, to pick up the fact that he was in the perfect position to “pound her like a hammer.”

  They had sex all the time. All. The. Damn. Time. You’d think it was the best thing ever to do. Or that it might be going out of style tomorrow.

  Shit. They needed a hobby or something.

  “Yes. God, yes! Yes! Oh Jesus.” As far as I could tell, they didn’t even go to church on Sundays, though their numerous exclamations seemed to profess deep belief in a higher power.

  Jeez, studies or not, I needed to get the hell out of this apartment and away from the all-night sex-a-thon for a few hours.

  I texted Heath and asked him if he wanted to grab dinner. As long as we picked some place cheap and air-conditioned, I’d be happy as a clam.

  He picked me up a half hour later, just as the smell of cigarette smoke began drifting up from the neighbors’ window. They’d be at it again later tonight, for sure.

  We sat at the sandwich shop down the street—no chance to chill in the air-conditioning, but at least we were able to park our sticky bodies in front of a giant, high-powered fan.

  I poked at my greasy—and overly salty—potato chip crumbs.

  “You okay?” Heath asked.

  “Mm,” I mumbled distractedly.

  Heath bit into his extra-large Italian sub on onion roll and watched me with wary eyes. He waited, well aware that I’d come out with it sooner or later. He didn’t have to wait long.

  I dropped the last bit of food onto my plate. “What’s the big deal about sex, anyway?” I was only aware that I’d asked that in a slightly too-loud voice when heads at the next table turned in my direction. I let out a frustrated sigh, my face burning.

  Clearing my throat, I swallowed and ignored their stares until they went back to their previous conversation. Heath gazed at me with his mouth hanging open.

  I made a face at him. “Catching flies?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you just asked me that. Have your neighbors been knocking boots again?”

  I blew out a breath. “It’s the only thing they ever do. They need a TV or something.”

  Heath’s grin grew sly. “Nothing on TV is half as fun as what they are doing.”

  “But do they have to let the whole damn world know? I mean, this woman is…loudly emotive…about her orgasms.”

  Again, the sound of my voice must have risen because those heads turned once more. My eyes narrowed as I stared back at them. “Oh, just go back to your food and your own conversation!” I barked and their eyes widened. Heath was red-faced and barely breathing from cracking up so hard.

  After the group resumed talking to one another—probably about me. I turned to Heath, holding up both hands, each pointing the middle finger straight up on either side of my face while I stuck my tongue out at him. It only made him laugh harder. And after a few minutes of watching him fight to breathe, I had to admit that it was infectious. I started to laugh too, damn it.

  This situation truly was ridiculous. He cleared his throat an
d wiped his eyes. “You either need to channel Meg Ryan and give your horny neighbors a scene like the one from When Harry Met Sally, or download some good loud porn and blast it back at them next time.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure they’d only find that a turn-on.”

  He shrugged, wiping tears from his eyes. “Probably so.”

  I blew out a frustrated breath. “I don’t get it.”

  “Oh, my dear, some day you will. If you ever bother to date, that is.”

  “I’m perfectly aware that orgasms are enjoyable.”

  “Orgasms from sex with another person are even better,” he quipped.

  I busied myself with brushing up the stray crumbs at my place setting. “I don’t have to date someone to have sex with them.” At least this time, I remembered to keep my voice low.

  Heath blinked, bit into his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. “True. But you don’t go out to meet people, even just to hook up. And since you are painfully socially awkward—”

  I scowled. “Jeez, Heath. You sure know how to boost a girl’s confidence. I’m awkward and socially impaired. But I’m not ugly.”

  His brows rose. “You are definitely not ugly. Quite the opposite. Men check you out all the time when we’re out together. But you’re totally clueless about that fact—which is both endearing and a little pathetic.”

  Making a face to cover for the awkward moment, I didn’t bother to correct his assumptions of my cluelessness. Ignoring the stares, come-ons and advances was a choice.

  “Not when you make that face, though.”

  Picking up my crust of bread, I tossed it at him. It bounced off his massive shoulder and landed on the table. He scooped it up and threw it back on my paper plate.

  “I’m just saying that if you want the opportunity to…explore…you need to make yourself available.”

  I laced my fingers together and sat up straight, mimicking an overly attentive student, blinking my wide eyes innocently. “Like should I run a personal ad on Craigslist? SWF seeks MHM for hot sex and virginal deflowering?”