Gamer Girl (15 page)

"Someday,"
she added, her eyes shining, "I'll make you all watch something
real old-school. Like the anime they had on TV when I was growing
up."

I grinned
wickedly. "Huh. I didn't realize they had TV back then."

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She balled up a
piece of paper and threw it at me. "Watch it, missie," she
warned. "Just kidding."

She grabbed a
slice of pizza and set it on a plate. "I'm not exactly a
grandma. We even had Internet when I was a kid, I'll have you know."

"Internet.
I'll give you that. But not YouTube or MySpace."

She shook her
head. "Yes, yes," she admitted. "It's true. As a child
I was severely deprived of the opportunity to post my personal
information online for all the world's perverts to see. In fact, I
even used a diary made of paper instead of a blog. Sad, really, now
that I think about it."

I grinned.
"Yeah, yeah. So what's the old-school anime you were talking
about?"

"Have you
ever heard of
Voltron?"

I shook my
head.

She thought for
a moment. "I guess I'd describe it as kind of an anime
Transformers.
These five kids had spaceships that they
combined into one giant robot. . ."

"Right. I
see. Sounds . . . um, cool." Not really, but I was willing to do
the retro thing if she was all into it.

Ms. Reilly
laughed. "I'll teach you kids to appreciate the classics if it's
the last thing I do."

"You are
too cool for school, Ms. Reilly." I bit into my pizza and
scanned the room. Everything was set up. Now we just needed bodies.

"Um, is
this, like, the manga club?"

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I looked up to
see a gangly, mousy brunette--all legs and arms--with pigtails and
braces hovering at the library door. A freshman from the look of it,
dressed in an adorable plaid pleated skirt, leg warmers, and a
vintage-looking Hello Kitty top. On closer examination I realized she
had tiny cat ears bobby pinned to her headband.

"Yes,
you're definitely in the right place," I said, throwing my
potential new BFF a smile. She grinned back and pranced over to the
table, grabbing a slice of pizza and stuffing it in her mouth.

"Nice,"
she said, her mouth filled with gooey cheese. "I couldn't
believe it when I saw the flyer. Like, how cool is it to have a manga
club right here at school? I mean, sure I belong to a billion online
manga clubs. You know, like, where you have forums and everything?
Cosplay.com for example. Great site. But then, of course, like,
online you end up knowing people, but you don't really know them. I
mean, you do in a way, but it's not the same as knowing them in real
life. Um, not that I consider online life not real, ha-ha, but you
know what I mean, right?"

She paused to
take a much-needed breath. I waved.

"I'm
Maddy," I said, while I had a chance to get a word in edgewise.

She wiggled her
fingers, with nails pink and chipped. "I'm Jessica. You can call
me Jessie," she replied. "Thanks for starting this club."

"No
problem." I liked her already.

Three more kids
filtered in. A stocky sophomore named

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Ed that I
recognized from art class. A Goth girl, Treena-- call me Black
Raven--Jones, who informed everyone she preferred vampire manga and
had several volumes of TOKYO -POP's
Chibi Vampire
on hand to
prove it. Rounding out the crew was a total emo boy who introduced
himself as David. He dressed all in black and was desperately trying
to look mopey and miserable. Problem was he was obviously so excited
about the club he kept grinning widely, which seriously detracted
from the life-sucks-and-then-you-die look he was going for.

I couldn't
believe it. Where had these kids been hiding the past few months? How
had I missed them in the halls? Had they, too, been quietly slipping
through the school day, trying to blend in and not be noticed so they
wouldn't risk becoming the kind of target I had become to the Haters?
These were my peeps, coming out of the woodwork, ready to get their
inner geek on.

This was better
than I'd even imagined.

Sarah the
Sojo
Beat
girl from the other day showed up a few minutes later,
followed by Matt and Luke, who immediately informed us they felt
American graphic novels should be part of the club, too. Everyone sat
down and I realized the table was nearly full. The pizza was not
going to go to waste after all.

"I'm
Maddy," I introduced myself when everyone had seated and grabbed
a slice. "Ms. Reilly asked me to serve as your club
president--at least until we get off the ground and can hold
elections."

146

"Sounds
good to me," Black Raven asserted. "Thanks for starting the
group."

"Yeah,
thanks," the others chimed in. "This rocks."

I beamed. "No
problem," I said. "Shall we get started?"

We'd all
settled in at the table, everyone chatting with one another as we
stuffed our faces full of pizza. We talked about manga, graphic
novels, anime, and even life in general. David told us about a poetry
book he was writing and Jessie showed us her extensive collection of
Final Fantasy figurines she'd gotten off eBay. Black Raven explained
the mythology of vampires in modern myths and Ed pulled out some
drawings he'd done of Train from the
Black Cat
series.

I got so lost
in the conversations that at first I didn't notice the solitary
figure leaning against the library doorjamb, watching us from a
distance. That was until Black Raven pointed him out with a chunky
silver-ringed finger. "Oh, my God. What's
he
doing here?"
she stage-whispered to the group.

Everyone turned
to stare at the intruder. My eyes widened as I realized it was none
other than Chad Murray himself. Spying on the manga club just as I'd
been spying on drama practice last week. My heart skipped a beat as I
accidentally caught his eye. He gave me a half smile. I quickly
dropped my gaze, staring down at my pizza plate instead, reminding
myself that I should stay away from him. He was one of the Haters. He
was the enemy.

"Intruder
alert, intruder alert," Black Raven warned in a fake robot
voice. "We have been spotted. I repeat, Operation

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Manga has been
infiltrated by the StuckUp Syndicate. We may need backup, people.
They're armed with hair gel and I don't think they're afraid to use
it."

The others
burst into laughter. I stifled a giggle, then felt bad when I peeked
back over and saw his face. If I didn't know better, I'd say he
looked . . . hurt. But that was impossible. Why would someone like
him, one of the most popular kids in school, care what a few comic
book geeks thought of him?

"Now,
Treena," Ms. Reilly rebuked, though I could tell she was trying
not to laugh, "this is an open club. Anyone who wants to join is
allowed to." She waved over to Chad. "Come sit down with us
if you'd like," she told him. "There's plenty of room."

Chad took a
step forward, then retreated, a conflicted look on his face. What was
up with him? Did he really want to join our manga club? Had hell
frozen over? Had pigs learned to fly? I mean, not that I'd mind if he
wanted to join. But it just seemed . . . weird . . . that he would.

"Ms.
Reilly, let's be realistic," Matt said, turning to the teacher.
"Chad Murray is
not
exactly our peeps."

"Yeah. No
way someone like him would want to join our club," chimed in
Jessie. "More likely he's on some special re-con mission for
Billy the Butthead. Getting the four-one-one on how we operate so
they can figure out new ways to torture and make our lives
miserable."

"Stupid
brainless sheep," David muttered. He stuck up his middle finger
at Chad. "Go home and listen to your Justin

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Timberlake CD!"
he yelled. The club collapsed into giggles and then went back into
their cosplay conventions discussion.

I stole another
glance over at the library entrance, watching as Chad started to
slink away. I looked back at the table. A lively debate had begun
about sewing your own costume versus buying one on eBay and they'd
all but forgotten the intruder. Seeing my opening, I jumped up from
my seat and headed over. At the very least I could find out what he
wanted. Apologize for the others' bad behavior, maybe.

"Chad,"
I called out to him as I reached the hall. He stopped and turned
around.

"Hey,"
he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a blue
hoodie and slouchy jeans. Of course, he could be wearing nothing but
a trash bag and still look like the hottest thing on Earth.

I shifted from
foot to foot, feeling suddenly shy. Why had I come out here to talk
to him again? And what was I supposed to say now that I had his
attention? His sky-blue eyes had turned my brain into mush, as usual.
Argh.

"Don't
mind them," I said, finally, gesturing into the library. "They
were just. . ."

Getting back
at you for all the things you and your friends did to them? Bullying
the bullies? Scoring points for the losing team?

"Just
teasing," I finished lamely, losing all my nerve.

Chad scuffed
the toe of his sneaker against the cement

149

hall floor.
"Whatever," he muttered. "I'm sure I deserved it in
some way or another." He looked up at me. "How's it going
in there, anyway? Looks like you had a good turnout."

I beamed,
unable to help myself. "Yeah, it's awesome. A lot of people
showed up. I was really surprised."

"I saw
your posters around school," he continued. "And I figured
I'd come see what it was all about. Is it like an art club or
something? Do you guys draw comics?"

"Oh, no.
We just read manga and watch anime," I replied. "Though, I
mean, we could draw, I suppose. I hadn't thought of that. I wonder if
people would be interested."

He grinned
suddenly. "You could teach them."

"Teach
them?" I cocked my head in confusion.

"How to
draw like you do."

I blushed
hard-core. "Oh, I'm not that good," I stammered. "I
don't think anyone would want to learn from me."

"You never
know," he said with a shrug. "And you are, too, that good.
I saw your drawing, remember? Stop being so modest."

I couldn't
believe he was complimenting me again. What did that mean? Was there
any chance in the universe that he actually liked me? That he might
be flirting?

"So did
you, um, want to join us?" I asked. The second the question left
my lips, I regretted it. Of course the school sex god did not want to
join our little motley crew of manga lovers. He had a thousand better
things to do with people who were a thousand times more rich and
good-looking.

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Then again, he
just said he came to check us out. So maybe . . . "Well, I-"

Chad barely got
the two words out before Chelsea came prancing around the corner.
"Chad, what are you
doing?"
the resident princess
demanded. She tossed her long locks over her shoulder, then planted
her hands on her narrow hips. She was dressed in a pair of fitted
Seven jeans and a pink cashmere sweater. The look screamed classy,
beautiful, and rich and I felt like a total schlub standing next to
her in my skull-patterned baby doll dress.

Chad winced, as
if he'd been caught doing something incredibly wrong. I guess he had
been, in a way. Fraternizing with the enemy and all that. I wondered
what he was about to say before she showed up. Guess now I'd never
know.

"Slumming
it, I see," she added, giving me her infamous princess look of
utter disdain. I so wanted to punch her in the face, but I reminded
myself of what Ms. Reilly said about letting them get to me. Chelsea
wasn't worth it.

"Shut up,
Chelsea," Chad muttered under his breath, so low she probably
couldn't hear him. Still, he
had
said it. Out loud. Hmm. Was
there some dissension in the Hater ranks these days?

"What did
you say?" she demanded.

"I said we
were just talking," Chad mumbled, his face turning a ripe tomato
color.

"Well,
finish up, please," Chelsea ordered. "Now. Billy sent me to
find you. He said you turned off your cell phone."

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She stared at
him, accusingly, as if he'd been caught killing puppy dogs.

"Maybe I
didn't want to be disturbed."

"Oh, yeah,
sure." She laughed, as if what he was saying was totally
ridiculous. "Anyway, we're all going out to Friendly's for
dinner. Everyone who's anyone is going to be there." She threw a
pointed look at me, as if she felt the need to further emphasize that
I wasn't invited and therefore wasn't anybody. "You
have
to come."

"I don't
know," Chad hedged, raking a hand through his blond hair in a
way that nearly left me a soppy puddle on the floor. "I'm really
beat."

Chelsea
laughed--a squeaky chuckle that sounded an-noyingly like tinkling
Christmas bells. "Oh, Chad, you're so funny," she said,
giggling. "For a moment, I actually believed you." She
grabbed him by his hood and started dragging him down the hall. "Come
on, silly," she said, still tugging. "Let's go already."

Chad allowed
himself be dragged, but kept his eyes on me. Just before I turned to
walk away, I saw him mouth the word "Sorry."

I shrugged,
trying not to let the rising disappointment get to me. What did it
matter, anyway? It wasn't like I had some burning desire for Chad
Murray to join the manga club. He wouldn't fit in and everyone would
feel awkward with him sitting there. It was for the best, really.

I headed back
to the library, sitting down at my seat. Everyone turned to look at
me, expectant looks on their faces.