Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

By the time Monday arrives, I feel so defeated that I can barely summon the energy to get myself out of bed. Eleanor Roosevelt and Sarah Jessica have texted me multiple times, asking me for updates, but I can’t bear to tell them how the date went. I don’t even have it in me to snark back at Mami and Papi when they tell me to have a good day. And at school, I keep my eyes down and refuse to look at anyone.

This morning, we have a group project session, and I realize that I just don’t care anymore. I don’t. I sit there, completely silent, as Jonas tells us that the painfully voluptuous female character on his poster has to carry two humongous guns to “show that this is a feminist game.” He smirks at me and pauses, as though waiting for me to voice my disagreement. Liam is staring at me with a frown, but I simply let my gaze drop to my lap with a shrug. Jonas can do whatever the hell he wants. I’m not going to stick my neck out again over a project I don’t give a crap about.

As soon as the recess bell rings, I hurry out of the classroom and make my way to the library. No disrespect to bookworms, but I’ve never been the sort of person who spends her break time at the library. But now, only wild horses can drag me out of this hallowed, quiet, safe space. Well, wild horses and the fourth-period bell. I breathe in deeply as the doors slide open. I’m quickly learning to love that unique smell that libraries have: a cloudy scent of dusty pages and ancient ink. I go past the more popular kid lit section and bury myself deep among the forgotten shelves. The books back here are a mishmash of forgotten genres: travelogues, old textbooks, and a smattering of memoirs. None of it interests me, to be honest—I doubt I’ll ever be a serious enough reader—but their presence comforts me.

“Hey,” someone says.

I start, my breath catching in my throat. Color rushes to my cheeks when I see Liam standing there. I clear my throat. “Hey.”

“What’re you doing here?” Liam says, taking a couple of steps toward me.

“Nothing.”

Liam’s eyebrows rise, and he looks suspiciously like he’s smiling at me. “Nothing? So you weren’t stroking that copy of Robespierre and the French Revolution like it’s a purring cat?”

I definitely was stroking the spine of Robespierre and the French Revolution like it’s a purring cat. I snatch my hand back and wipe it on the skirt of my uniform as though I just got caught doing something perverted. “Just—you know—wanted to feel what the cover material was.”

“Through the library’s plastic covering?”

For a moment, I wonder if I should press on. But why bother fighting the Crazy Kiki label? The more time that goes by, the more I’m starting to wonder if perhaps Jonas was right all along, if maybe I am crazy and I simply never knew. My shoulders sag, and I sigh. “Yeah, okay, I was stroking books. I swear I’m not doing it in a creepy way, if there is indeed a non-creepy way to stroke books. I just—I don’t know why, but it’s comforting?”

“Hey, I’m not judging. You know what I love doing?” Liam picks out a random book and opens it. He lifts it to his face and takes a deep inhale. “Ahhh.” Then he coughs. “Okay, this one’s a bit dusty.” He puts the book back on the shelf and gives me that cute, boyish grin of his. “I like smelling books.”

It dawns on me slowly, gently, like a sun peeking over the horizon, making the shadows melt away: Liam isn’t making fun of me. He’s smiling, yes, but it’s a bashful smile, not a sardonic smirk. No, I shouldn’t hope for a friend, not after the terrible, shitty way that everyone else has smacked me down. God, the memory of Jeremiah’s sneer makes me wince even now.

“Are you okay?” Liam says.

I was all prepared to say yes, of course, and shut this conversation down, but when I open my mouth, what comes out is “Not really.” What the hell? Why did I say that? I shake my head and add, “But who’s ever really okay, right?” I punctuate it with a weak laugh that sounds desperate.

“Um, so…” Liam licks his lips. “I have a confession to make: I followed you here.”

That makes my breath hitch. I have to remind myself to keep my tone casual. “Now who’s being creepy?”

Liam raises his hands. “Okay, I know how it sounds, but I swear I’m not being creepy. I just wanted to apologize.”

My eyebrows knit together. “I don’t get it. Apologize for what?”

Liam’s breath comes out in a sigh. “God, where do I even begin? I’m sorry about how everyone’s treating you, for one thing. I knew that people here don’t like anyone who’s different, but I really didn’t think they’d be so…well, so fucking horrible to you.”

Oh god. My nose is tingling and my eyes are misting up and gahhh, lord help me if I cry in front of this boy, I swear. “It’s not your fault,” I mutter.

“It kind of is. I should’ve spoken out sooner. I mean, your first day, I tried warning you, but…”

Warning me? So that’s what he was trying to do. I dismissed it as Liam trying to threaten me.

“I was wrong. I shouldn’t have warned you. I should’ve just addressed the cause: Jonas. He’s such an asshole, I swear.”

“He is!” I cry, relief pounding through me at the realization that here, finally, is someone who feels the same way I do.

“I’ve never liked him,” Liam says. “I’ve always kept my head down and gone along with everything he said because I thought that’s the only way to survive here.” He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs again. “But now I realize that it’s the cowardly option. I hate it. I hate pretending that everything Jonas says is great. I hate pretending that his ideas are awesome.”

I’m holding my breath, because I sense it coming, and I don’t want anything, not even breathing, to get in the way.

And then Liam says it. The beautiful words I have been longing to hear. “I fucking hate his ideas for our group project.”

My squeal is so loud that someone a few shelves away shushes me. I clamp a hand over my mouth and hiss-shout, “Yessss.”

Liam laughs. “They are so bad.”

“So bad!”

“Like a completely unoriginal copy of Lara Croft,” Liam says.

“Her boobs are bigger than her head,” I add.

“And the guns!”

“Don’t knock the guns. They’re ‘feminist.’ ”

I don’t realize how hard we’re both laughing until one of the librarians storms over to us and hisses, “If you two can’t be quiet, you’ll have to leave the premises.”

We apologize to her and scurry out of the library like guilty children. Outside, we double over laughing, and it feels so good. It feels like I’m waking up after a deep sleep, my dulled senses coming back to life. And when I finally straighten up and meet Liam’s eyes, I know that I’ve finally found my first real friend at Xingfa.

“So I’m sorry,” Liam says, still half laughing. “But I promise you that from now on, I’m not going to be such a coward. I’ll stand up to Jonas.”

That makes me laugh, because it sounds so dramatic. “You don’t have to.” Why did I say that? I want him to. But my instinctive reaction is to say no, because…part of me doesn’t think I’m worth standing up for.

“I do. Everyone should be doing it, actually. If everyone did it, we wouldn’t have a bullying problem. I don’t wanna be part of that problem. And you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

My chin trembles so hard I have to bite down on my lower lip to keep from bawling. I manage a nod, not trusting myself to speak. I don’t deserve to be treated like that. I don’t. When did I lose sight of it? In such a short time, I’ve gone from loving myself to wanting to disappear, and it’s scary to think of how quickly it all happened. But not anymore. Now that I have an ally, I’ve got some of my fight back.

We chat easily all the way back to class, and for the first time, I don’t get a surge of terror when I see our classroom and the label Year Eleven Purity above it.

The first thing I hear when we go inside is Jonas’s cronies, Elon and Tristan, bitching to each other about how shitty Jonas is.

“He got owned by Angelus last night, can you freaking believe it?” Elon says.

“Uh. Seriously? A healer? What was he playing as?”

“Titanimus! He should’ve been able to one-shot Angelus, but nope. She killed him three freaking times. Our entire team was, like, Dude, what the fuck?”

I have to fight hard to hide my smile. This is glorious. Last night, after Sourdawg logged off, I stayed on, found Jonas, and this time, I killed him while playing as a healer. I don’t know if it’s clear just how humiliating this is for Jonas. Healers are designed to, well, heal. Healing characters tend to be pretty weak in terms of health and armor; they have to be well-protected by their teammates so that they can go around casting healing spells on everyone. The healer I chose, Angelus, only has a sad little hammer as her weapon. Jonas was playing as Titanimus. There shouldn’t be any way in hell that my character could have killed his, but there you go, that’s just how crappy a player Jonas is. While he flailed in a panic, I used my tiny hammer to bludgeon his stupid head in before dancing over his fading corpse. Then I camped out at the respawn site and did it twice more before his buddies came to his aid and drove me away. Definitely something that sparks joy.

“It’s embarrassing! I think we need to—”

Elon nudges him and the two turn to look at the doorway, where Jonas has just arrived. They stop talking and give him a nod. Jonas approaches, and he’s obviously in a crappy mood. He immediately zeroes in on Elon.

“What the hell was that about last night?”

Elon glances at Tristan, who shrugs. “Uh, what do you mean?”

“You guys left me alone. Where was the team support while I was getting griefed by that fucking Dudebro troll?”

“Uh…” Elon side-eyes Tristan with obvious uneasiness. “Um, we were trying to capture the flag, which was, you know, kind of the mission? And, I mean, you were playing as Titanimus, and Dudebro was playing as Angelus. You shouldn’t have been able to be defeated by a healer, so…”

“He was obviously cheating!” Jonas snaps. “Don’t be putting this on me, Elon. Just because you’re a shitty team player. You guys should’ve had my back! You know this asshole’s been after me for days now.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

Heh-heh. I grin at Liam as we settle into our seats.

“Sounds like Jonas is having a hard time on Warfront,” Liam mutters under his breath.

“Yeah,” I giggle. Then stop. I stare at Liam.

“What?” He stops short, his eyes widening ever so slightly. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, it’s just…how did you know they were talking about Warfront Heroes?” They’d only mentioned the characters’ names, not the actual game.

“Oh.” Liam lowers his voice so I have to lean closer to hear him. We’re so close to each other now that I can see the curve of his eyelashes. My heart thumps so hard I can feel it in my neck. “I play too. But don’t tell anyone, because Jonas has been trying to get me to join his gaming crew for ages.”

My throat is so dry I can barely get the next few words out. “Wha-what’s your Warfront name?”

Liam frowns at me. “Sourdawg, why?”

Is it possible to black out for half a second? Because that’s exactly what happens to me. The world falls away, and in that split second, everything is pitch-dark and silent. All I can hear is the sound of my breath and the roar of blood rushing through my head.

I’ve found him. Sourdawg. It’s Liam.

“—okay? Hey.”

I’m snatched back to the present moment. I blink. Liam is staring at me, and his hand is on my arm. Sourdawg’s hand is on my arm. My real arm, not my in-game character’s arm. I jerk up at the what-the-hellness of it all, and Liam must have thought I was reacting to his hand on my arm, because he says, “Sorry!” and pulls his hand away.

The teacher walks in then, and for the first time, I’m thankful that he has chosen this very moment to arrive in class, because WHAT THE HELL?! I turn to face the front of the classroom and stare at the blackboard with laser eyes, refusing to even glance at Liam, because, have I mentioned, WHAT THE HELL?! My hands are bunched into fists on my lap, and the whole period, I have to keep from screaming, “SOURDAWG?! IT’S MEEE! YOUR ONLINE BESTIE! DUDEBRO!”

Oh god. Dudebro. My online male persona. How would Liam react if he were to find out that Dudebro is actually a girl in real life? I swear my rib cage hasn’t just tightened; each rib has turned into a snake, and now they’re all writhing about and squeezing my lungs, and okay, maybe that’s a weird metaphor, but holy shit, I’m sitting next to Sourdawg.

The moment class ends, I choke out, “Bathroom!” and rush out of there, pausing outside the classroom to grab my phone from the basket. I sprint all the way to the bathroom and slam myself into the farthest cubicle.

Aaaa! AAAHH!!!

Sharlot:Omg what?

Cassie:Wkt?

I guess Cassie’s typing in class again, which means she’s typing while staring ahead so she doesn’t get caught doing it.

Kiki:I found out who Sourdawg is!!!!!!

Cassie:OMJ!!!

Sharlot:Ahh!! Who??

Kiki:LIAM! The guy who sits next to me!!

Sharlot:!!!

Cassie:!! The hot juy?? He’s hot, tight?

Kiki:Ew, ‘tight’?

Cassie:I meant “right”

Kiki:You need to stop typing in class, you’re gonna get caught

Sharlot:Did you tell him who you are?

Kiki:What?! Of course not! He thinks my online persona is a GUY, remember?

Cassie:Oh god, that’s right, DUDEBRO

Kiki:What should I do???

Cassie:Act normal@@@

Kiki:Should I just tell him the truth?

Sharlot:Definitely not right now. You’re in the middle of the school day, right? I think for now, just act normal. We’ll come up with a better way to expose yourself later

Cassie:Expose herself, huh?

Kiki:CASSIE

Sharlot:CASSIE

Despite everything, I snort a little at Cassie’s comment. That’s so Cassie. The thought brings about a whole wave of sadness. I wish we were still in the same school. We’d be going to the bathroom together, gripping each other and squealing over the revelation of Sourdawg’s identity. Oh god, Sourdawg. Aka Liam. Oh, lordy lordy lordy. I take a deep breath. Ew, gross. One definitely should not do any deep breathing in a school bathroom. I breathe out through my mouth.

I can handle this. I mean, as far Sourdawg candidates go, Liam’s pretty freaking amazing. He’s kind, he hasn’t bought into the whole “Crazy Kiki” thing, and he’s just promised that he’s going to start standing up to Jonas. The memory of that makes guilt lance through my gut. Liam is a decent person. He doesn’t deserve to have me lying to him. But then I think of all the conversations we’ve had online and how honest he’s been about his parents’ divorce and, god, I feel like total and utter crap at the thought of Liam sitting behind the screen, typing earnestly to Dudebro. Dudebro, who he thinks is a dude. This is the worst.

Cassie and Sharlot are right, I can’t possibly let him know who I really am. Not now, at least. I’ll have to come up with a way to—uh, expose myself (damn Sharlot for putting those words in my head!) as gently as possible. Yes, good plan.

With another deep breath—ugh, big mistake—I brush down my skirt and make my way out of the bathroom. I can do this. I can totally act normal with Liam.

Hey, so you mentioned that there’s a new kid sitting next to you?

Okay, so I can’t, in fact, act normal with Liam. But hey, can anyone really blame me? I mean, okay, yes, they totally can, but I bet anyone in my shoes would be totally digging for information.

Did I? I think there are a couple of new kids in my class this year

Dudebro10:Yeah, I think you mentioned in passing

Oh god, oh god, I am sweating.

Oh OK. Yeah I’m sitting next to a new girl

Dudebro10:Cool. Is she hot?

My soul folds into itself over and over until it’s a tiny, dense wad screaming into the void. I can’t believe I just straight out asked Liam if I’m hot. I’m fishing for compliments, I know, but it’s been a rough week. The universe owes me this one.

She’s cute. But kind of grumpy. You know Grumpy Cat?

He did not just compare me to Grumpy-freaking-CAT.

Yeah…?

Sourdawg:Yep. She’s got that pissed-off expression down. Exactly like Grumpy Cat

Dudebro10:Maybe she’s pissed off because people are bullying her?

Sourdawg:Yeah, maybe. I did apologize to her for not standing up to those assholes. TBH, I was kinda talking abt it with my therapist and she was, like, “How does it make you feel to watch this girl get bullied?” and welp, feels like shit. So I’m gonna say something next time

Dudebro10:I bet she’ll rly appreciate it

Sourdawg:Maybe. Should’ve done it a lot sooner. Anyway, enough about me. What abt you, bro? Seeing anyone?

Dudebro10:Sure

Sourdawg:That’s cool. You never mentioned your gf. Or bf

Dudebro10:Oh, nonono. I don’t have one of those. I just take it easy, you know. Not rly a one-woman kind of guy

Oh my god what am I even saying?! Stop typing, fingers!

Ah

Dudebro10:Sorry, that came out rly wrong and douchey. I don’t know why I said that. I’m not seeing anyone. No one’s rly into me at school, lol

Sourdawg:Hah, saaame

I almost type “I find that hard to believe, given you’re about as hot as the center of an active volcano,” but manage to stop myself in time.

I think I’m starting to like someone, though

Dudebro10:Oh?

Oh my god?!My fingers hover over the keyboard. What do I say? Should I ask him who? No, that’d be weird, because I’m not supposed to know anyone at his school, so the “who” shouldn’t matter to me. He could say “Jane” or “Mary” and it’d be all the same to me, his anonymous online buddy. Right. Gah!

Someone in your class?

I watch as the three dots appear next to his name. But just then, the screen changes and the chat disappears. We’re out of the waiting room and being logged on to an actual battleground.

“NO!” I shout at my computer. This is the first time in my life that I’ve been so enraged about being let into the game. By the time the battleground loads, the chat window is overloaded with new teammates saying hi and discussing strategy. I scroll up frantically, hoping against hope that Sourdawg had time to reply, but nope. The chat looks like this:

Someone in your class?

[Warfront Heroes]:Guns at the ready! Loading Silmerrov Gulch.

[Warfront Heroes]:Heroes, assemble! 30 seconds before the gates open. Time to meet your teammates and talk strategy!

Firestar202:Hey, guys. I’m gonna flank from the temple side

Darksak:Dude, you’re playing Doringa. You’re not strong enough to flank FFS

Sourdawg:You can flank, but you need a tank in front of you to take damage. Dudebro, can you go ahead of Fire?

Sourdawg:Dudebro

Firestar202: I don’t need to hide behind a tank

Darksak:Yes you do. DUDEBRO, wake the f*** up, man! Omg is our tank AFK?

Oops. I spent so long trying to locate my private chat with Sourdawg that I missed all the drama. I quickly type: “OK” and hit Enter just as the gates open and the battle begins. The round ends up being a tragedy. I fail to hold up my shield properly and get sniped in the head within the first five seconds. While I wait to respawn, the rest of my team is taken out. Curses flood the chat window, but I don’t even care. My heart isn’t in the game at all.

Sourdawg likes someone. And I can’t ask him about it. It would come off so weird. I’ll have to figure out who it is some other way.

Not that I care. Because I don’t. I force myself to take a deep breath. It’s none of my business who Liam likes. The only thing that matters is that Liam has promised that he’ll stand up for me. No matter who he has a crush on, things are going to look up from here on out, I just know it.