37   THE CULT OF PYTHAGORAS

Charlie drove to Alex’s modest, spare house. He always hated going there—it was cold and bare, no furniture but the essentials. Just in case the cops were coming, looking for a bat-wielding vandal, Charlie parked down the street and went around back to Alex’s window. He was there, inside, working at his desk. That was new—Charlie hadn’t seen Alex study a day in his life. Charlie knocked on the glass.

“I knew you were coming,” Alex said without explanation. He seemed to enjoy the secret bit of knowledge. Did Alex have the Eye of God, too?

It wasn’t homework on his desk. The papers strewn about were covered with nonsense, triangles with numbers and Hebrew letters scribbled inside.

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s kabbalah. Numerology. The Game’s showing me some wicked stuff.”

“Alex, are you okay? You seem really hyped up.”

“I’m fine. Now look at this.” Alex started saying something about the destructive power of the four-letter name of God.

Charlie looked around Alex’s room. It was a mess. Not just a normal kid’s mess but really scattered. Had it always been this bad? He couldn’t remember.

“How did the test go?” Charlie asked carefully.

“Do you even care?”

“Of course I do. I texted.”

“I didn’t get any text.”

That was odd. Charlie had sent it as soon as he remembered.

“So … did the test go okay?”

“I hope so.” A chill was in Alex’s words.

Charlie treaded lightly. “What time does your dad get home?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Alex looked up and met Charlie’s eyes. “He’ll wait until the grade comes back.”

A cold wave passed through Charlie. That was the closest Alex had ever come to saying it. He’ll wait to … do what?

“Do you want me to call someone?”

“You literally can’t speak the four-letter name.” Alex pointed back to the papers on his desk.

“Alex, listen to me.”

“No, you listen to me. I don’t care about physics. This is way more interesting.”

Alex swung his hand toward the desk and knocked over a bottle of pills. They skittered all over the place, and he started frantically trying to sweep them up.

Charlie picked up the bottle, but it was unlabeled. “Who gave you these?”

“It’s just Adderall.”

“Alex, when’s the last time you slept?”

Alex’s gaze swung to Charlie’s right. “I know what he’s trying to do,” he snapped.

Charlie glanced where Alex was talking to, but no one was there.

“Alex, are you playing the Game right now?”

“I’ll handle it,” Alex said, this time to someone on Charlie’s left.

“Alex, take your glasses off.”

“Why? You think I can’t handle you without the Game?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You think I can’t write all that stuff without these on?”

“Alex, I’m your friend.”

He snorted, a short bitter laugh, and Charlie remembered his microsecond failure by the portables—that split-second delay between You don’t want me in the group anymore and That’s not true—that told Alex everything he needed to know.

Maybe that’s when things went off course, Charlie thought, or maybe it had been going on long before and they’d just been blind to the signs, but it was never too late to make things right.

“Nobody likes me,” Alex said. “I’d be better off gone.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“Alex, I don’t think this Game is good for you. They way you’re talking…”

“You’re just jealous,” Alex said angrily, “because I finally found something I’m better at.”

Charlie put the pill bottle down on Alex’s desk. Charlie didn’t know what to say or how to help him. Something caught his eye in the papers—one of the Lord LittleDick posters of Tim that had gotten Alex beaten up by the portables in the first place.

“I never asked for your help,” Alex said, seeing Charlie notice the poster.

You did a good deed, and God was watching.

An idea was forming in Charlie’s head, the pieces coming together. The Lord LittleDick poster led to Alex’s fight. The Game had sent Charlie there with a fake text to test him. What had inspired Alex to put up those posters in the first place? Why then? Right after the Game’s invitations had come.…

“Alex, when did you start playing the Game?”

Alex blinked at the question. “When we all did. That night at the Tech Lab.” He started fidgeting with his sleeve.

And why hadn’t any of Alex’s posters gone up? Because one of Tim’s friends caught him first. What were the odds of that, catching Alex in the act … unless something tipped off Tim’s friend, just like Charlie was tipped off to the fight.…

“Alex, did the Game tell you to put those posters of Tim up?”

Alex didn’t answer.

“You accepted the invitation. You started playing before us.”

“No…”

“Why did you lie?”

“I earned my Goldz fair and square. I didn’t start early. I’m ahead of you.”

“I don’t care who’s winning! Don’t you see, the Game used you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It didn’t let you put the posters up. It wanted you to get caught, so Tim’s friends would come after you. To see what I would do.”

“This is not about you,” Alex cried. “It’s not always about you. Or Peter. Or Kenny.”

“Alex, I know. I didn’t mean that. I’m just saying—”

“Just go away. Just leave me alone for once.”

“Alex…”

“No. I won’t let you take this away.”

“It’s using us. All of us.” Charlie thought of his chessboard. “We’re pawns, Alex. We’re not playing the Game. It’s playing us.”

Alex shook his head. “Maybe you. Not me.”

“Did you destroy Mr. B.’s car?”

Alex looked at him wide-eyed, then looked away.

“Just come to the Tech Lab tonight. Promise me that. I’ll get everyone together and we’ll talk it through. Then, you can make whatever choice you want, for you. I won’t try to stop you. But if you want to stop, we’ll be there for you. We screwed up before. We let you down. I won’t again.”

Alex didn’t answer.

“Promise me. Please.”

“Okay. I’ll think about it.”

Charlie couldn’t tell if Alex meant it or not.

There was nothing left to say. Alex was done, Charlie could tell.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Charlie said, going to the window.

“Oh, one more thing,” Alex said offhandedly.

He hit Charlie so hard in the shoulder it nearly knocked him down.

“What the fuck?” Charlie cried. He grabbed his shoulder and squeezed the muscles, trying to get the pain to fade. “Why’d you do that?”

“Your Blaxx.” Alex checked something on his Aziteks. “You were up to twenty-five. Now you’re back down to zero. Trust me, you don’t want those building up.”