Dylan was being a gigantic asshat. Yeah, the Incursers were on the run and the Healers were suddenly on top of the social strata, but they’d talked about that potential universe switch a million times—the game turned on a dime, and by next week the Velocirats could be calling all the shots and they’d all be doomed, Incurser and Healer alike. It didn’t matter what plotline Ellie wrote, or how many people chose to play it, if the game’s creators hit the override button on the universe.
Don’t pick that, Ellie typed as Dyl attempted to grab a flame from a low blue tree.
He ignored her, lifting out the flame and then doing a pain dance as it blackened his arm to his elbow.
I told you so. Only Healers could carry the flame. She had a ball of fire now under her cloak that she hadn’t even told him about yet.
Let’s go skinny-dipping!
Fine. It was silly, but he loved going there, so she would walk with him through the glade to get to the hot spring. If you walked right at it and at the last minute hit a jump sequence, then your character’s clothes would disappear as you cannonballed into the water. Not that you could see junk or anything—the game makers blurred out the genitalia—but it was still kind of funny.
Four other “couples” were already in the springs. How many of them actually knew each other in real life? She wondered if any of them had actually met and actually liked each other. They couldn’t possibly be the only two players to ever get together in real life. The game was already huge—there’d been a con dedicated to it in Houston just the month before. There must be other couples in the world who owed their relationship to this purple and green world where Healers couldn’t swim but, given the right plants, could fly when necessary.
Hey, what’s wrong?
What? Ellie made Addi tuck a Lopi flower behind her ear.
What’s up with you?
Nothing.
Seems like more than that. You want me to call?
No, she didn’t.
Ellie hadn’t seen Dylan for three weeks, not since she’d met him and his band at a recording studio in Emeryville. He’d been different. Yeah, they were recording a demo and she knew it was important—maybe it was even the equivalent of her applying to colleges—but she still wanted to be . . . looked at. To be seen. He’d practically acted like she wasn’t there, just kept fiddling with his guitar, even when they were on breaks. And afterward, when he’d driven her to BART (instead of across the bridge and home), he’d kissed her differently. Like she was . . . something he expected.
They’d had sex three times now. Once at the hotel, which was the best time. Once in his car, which was uncomfortable but okay, and once in his bed while his roommates were chilling in the other room completely baked out of their minds.
Had she done it wrong? Was she bad in bed? Did she not know how to do it right? How would she know if that was true? He was sweet, of course. Dylan was always sweet. And he’d seemed happy; it was pretty obvious he’d been satisfied. (Had she been? She wasn’t quite sure. Why was it so confusing? Wasn’t it supposed to be a big bang followed by giddiness? Instead, it was kind of awkward and then awesome and then awkward again. God, she really must not be doing it right.)
Dylan had been supposed to come over tomorrow for Thanksgiving—they’d planned it weeks before—but he’d IM’d her that morning and said his brother was coming to town and was taking him out to dinner.
Ellie hadn’t even known he had a brother. She knew about his sister, but not a brother.
In the game, Dyl ran up the side of the riverbank (his clothes miraculously reattaching as he went) and kept going. Addi followed him. Dyl ran past the edge of town toward the Hinters. His avatar paused as he juggled two swords.
What are we doing? she typed. Maybe they’d be the first to ever have a “talk” in Queendom.
Running.
No. I mean you and me.
Nothing, Ellie. He rarely called her by her real name in the game. We just ARE. Dyl ran faster, Addi at his heels. Tell me a story about where we’re going now.
She could do that. That was, maybe, the only thing she was good at. Once upon a time, she started as she hit the command to keep Addi running (she’d pass Dyl eventually; she was just a little bit faster than he was), at the end of the world, there were two runners on a mission to save the Dragon Queen. The sky went red over their racing avatars, getting more orange the closer they got to the edge of the game. Every night, as the sun fell, a great spell would fall on the land . . .
Wanna go back to the springs?
Hey. It’s my story.
Yeah, well, Josh just texted me and he’s going to try to find the Queen’s eggs, too.
No! The fewer people looking for the eggs the better. Did you tell him that’s what we were doing out here?
Not really . . .
The motion detector went on outside the living room window. Ellie jumped and leaned to look. Her mother wandered past, in the direction of Harrison’s house. Shit. She hadn’t even heard her leave the kitchen. Ellie didn’t type to tell Dylan where she was going—she just raced to the back door. The door was unlocked, the screen door standing open.
Ellie watched while her mother walked across the grass under the moon. She opened her mouth to call her, to say something, but then she saw Harrison’s porch light go on. He stepped into its yellow pool and opened his arms.
Her mother folded herself into them.
Ellie’s shoulders dropped, and her stomach did, too. She was glad—truly—that her mother had Harrison.
But her mom also had Mariana.
And Mariana had Luke.
Who did that leave her with?
Inside, she typed, Hey, it’s late. I’m going to bed. She sat at the dining room table and crossed her fingers on both hands. Sometimes he liked to go to sleep at the same time she did. Dyl came into Addi’s hut and stood as near to her as his avatar could. Then, with the violins softly playing, they’d sleep as close to each other as two Queendom players could.
K. Night.
That was it. Not even an XO. Nothing else.
Ellie’s back ached with something that felt dull and heavy. Her knees were stiff as she walked up the stairs. On the landing, she looked at the series of twin pictures hung on the wall. The simply framed pictures showed her mother and Aunt Mariana at various ages, draped over each other, laughing. Always laughing. Sometimes they wore matching clothes ironically, and sometimes they were just themselves. But they were together in every single photo, and they had a story for each one, too. That was the year we had chickenpox. Remember how itchy those sweaters were?
In the school pictures of Ellie that hung farther down the hall, chronicling her most awkward ages, she was alone. Just like she was now.
In her room, Ellie set her closed computer on her desk. She tried to rub the muscle in her neck that ached, but she couldn’t quite reach it.
Automatically, she brought up the Queendom forums page. She could plunge into talk about the game, and that would make her feel better. It always did. She wouldn’t be alone if she were in the computer, bouncing Healing recipes off other people, helping newbies figure out how to transform.
Ellie looked down at her hands, the fingertips poised on the enter button.
For the first time in months, she turned the game off. She didn’t need the game to take care of her, just like she didn’t need her mother to be home or her aunt to watch out for her. She could handle it on her own. She’d sleep with no music tonight, with no soft glow from her Healer’s hut to bathe her. Ellie pulled up the covers and shut her eyes resolutely, as if she could will herself to rest. Maybe when she woke in the morning she’d feel different. Stronger. Older.
Maybe she’d feel less alone.
She crossed her fingers again even though they didn’t have a good track record and squinched her eyes more tightly closed.