Gamer Girl (3 page)

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Authors: Mari Mancusi

Tags: #Divorce, #Science & Technology, #Sports & Recreation, #Cartoons and comics, #Fantasy games, #People & Places, #Comic Books; Strips; Etc, #Massachusetts, #Schools, #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Love & Romance, #Comics & Graphic Novels, #United States, #Children of divorced parents, #Games, #Marriage & Divorce, #Fiction, #School & Education, #Role playing, #Family, #General, #New Experience, #High schools, #Moving; Household

BOOK: Gamer Girl
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"Hey,
Cait," I said.

"Mads!"
she cried. "How's it going? Oh, wait--hang on. ..." I could
hear her talking in the background. "Okay, sorry," she
said. "How did your first day go?"

"Oh, my
God, it was horrible!" I moaned. "First, Grandma

22

made me wear
this shirt that had unicorns on it, and then--"

"Sorry,
Mads, hang on one more time." More muffled conversation and
giggles. Then she came back on the line. "Sorry. Me and Ashley
are at J.P. Licks and we're trying to figure out ice-cream flavors."

A pang of
loneliness shot through me. I should have been there with them.
Eating ice cream and giggling. Probably flirting with Jon, that guy
behind the counter we all had crushes on. But no! I was stuck in the
middle of nowhere in a house that was more like a museum, after the
worst day of school in my entire life.

"It's
okay," I replied. A total lie. "I'll wait."

"Actually,
can I just call you back later?" Caitlin asked. "Like,
tonight or something? Or, um, tomorrow morning?"

"Sure,"
I said glumly.

"Cool.
Later, gator." And with that, the phone disconnected, before I
even had a chance to say good-bye. And somehow I knew in my heart
she'd forget to call me back later. I was out of Boston. Out of their
lives. Forgotten already.

I was totally
and utterly alone.

A knock sounded
on my door. I tried to ignore it, but Mom was never much for
respecting space. She barged in and sat down on the side of my bed,
studying me with pitying eyes. I rolled over to face the wall so she
couldn't see I'd been crying.

"Bad first
day?" she asked, sympathetically.

"Why do
you care?"

"Maddy, of
course I care. Don't be like that."

23

"If you
cared, you wouldn't have dragged us here to the middle of nowhere and
let Grandma humiliate me." I quickly related what had
transpired.

Mom let out a
sigh. "I'm sorry about that, Maddy," she said, reaching
over to touch me on the shoulder. I jerked away. "I didn't
realize she'd take it upon herself to dress you and bring you to
school. But she does mean well."

"Um,
great. That makes me feel so much better."

"She's old
and she doesn't understand. But she has a good heart."

I rolled over
to face her. "Mom, she embarrassed me in front of the whole
school and I wore embroidered unicorns all day!"

Mom sighed
again. "I'll have a talk with her," she said. "It
won't happen again, I promise."

"Don't you
see? It's too late! The damage is done."

"Don't
overreact. I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad."

"You
weren't there. You don't know."

"What do
you want me to do, Maddy?" Mom asked, defensiveness creeping
into her voice.

That was easy.
"Don't make me go back there. Let me go to my old school."

Mom shook her
head. "That's not possible."

Please. It
wasn't possible only because she was too selfish. Because she decided
to take off on my dad and refuse to try to work things out. And we
all had to suffer for it.

"I'll wake
up early and take the commuter train in," I suggested. "I
don't mind."

24

"It's not
the commute. Your old school costs a lot of money. I can't afford the
tuition."

I gave up.
"Fine. Whatever," I growled. "Maddy ..."

"I'm
tired. I want to take a nap." I turned back on my side. I knew I
was being childish, but at the moment, I didn't care. "Go ruin
someone else's life for a while."

Mom sat there,
unmoving. I could feel her stare at my back. Then she slowly got up
and left the room.

Once she was
gone, I rose from my bed and pulled my sketchbook out of my bag. I
sat down at my desk and started drawing. It was the only thing,
sometimes, that could pull me out of a bad mood. When I picked up a
pen, it was like I entered an alternate universe. All of life's
problems faded to the background and I lost myself in my art.

I was
especially fond of Japanese-style art and had been creating my own
manga. A graphic novel, if you will. I'd been writing a fantastical
story about a girl who gets sucked into an alternate reality and has
to fight demons and monsters. But today I found it hard to work on.
Maybe because my own demons kept coming to the surface. And so I
turned the page and started sketching a scene from school. Walking
into school with Grandma, wearing the unicorn shirt. Billy mouthing
off, me looking mortified.

I sighed,
staring down at the drawing. I really should have done something.
Told him off. Kicked his ass. Showed him he couldn't intimidate me.
But no, I was a coward. A stupid coward.

25

Inspired, I
ripped off a new sheet of paper and sketched how the scene should
have gone. This time, instead of me slumping my shoulders and playing
the coward, I stood up to Billy. Pushed him back. Told him to leave
me the hell alone. I drew in the other kids' faces. Impressed. Awed.
They'd never seen anyone stand up to Billy before. I was their hero.

I laughed as I
looked down at my drawing. It was silly, for sure. But in a weird way
it made me feel a tiny bit better.

26

CHAPTER 3

THIS ONE'S from
your father."

My mother
shoved the brightly colored box at me as if it were a hot potato she
was anxious to be rid of. Not surprising, I guess. Since their
divorce, she treated most of Dad's stuff in this manner. You should
have seen the yard sale she held the day after he moved out. The
shoppers were shocked to be handed expensive parting gifts as they
left the brown-stone--"just for stopping by." Dad was
pretty surprised, when he came back to collect his stuff and found
out it'd all been sold or given away to people who Mom said obviously
needed it more.

I accepted the
gift from her, shaking it gently as I sat back down on Grandma's
shag-carpeted living room floor, anxious to figure out what was
inside the haphazardly taped-together box. Despite being born
gift-wrap challenged, Dad always came through with the best presents
ever. And he never cheated either, asking what I wanted before
heading to the store like some clueless grown-ups did. He just
instinctively

27

seemed to know
exactly what I'd want before I knew that "what" even
existed.

"Open it!"
urged my younger sister, Emily, from her crossed-legged position next
to Grandma on the couch. At age eight, she had naturally curly,
white-blond hair and naturally zero patience for anything that didn't
directly involve her. In fact, I was pretty surprised she'd made it
this long through the gift-opening portion of my sixteenth birthday
celebration. No doubt Mom had bribed her with promises of ice cream
and chocolate cake for when we were through. For ice cream and
chocolate cake, Emily would have sat through a reading of the
Constitution. Backward and with debates on each amendment in between.

"Come
on!"
Emily shouted, sounding more annoyed this time. "And don't do
that thing where you slowly tear off each piece of tape to save the
wrapping paper."

"Now,
Emily. There's nothing wrong with recycling the paper," Grandma
scolded her. "Wrapping paper doesn't just grow on trees, you
know."

Actually I was
pretty sure it did--at least indirectly-- but there was no need to
get into that kind of debate with Grandma. Mom would only get annoyed
and then we'd have to have that talk again about how lucky we were to
have Grandma to stay with after we had to sell the house because of
the divorce. Oh, yes, so very lucky.

To satisfy
Emily, I made a great show of tearing through the paper, crumpling it
into a ball, and throwing it at her. After dodging her return throw,
I looked down at my present.

28

I squinted at
the box for a moment and then broke out into a wide smile when I
recognized what it was. "Fields of Fantasy!" I said,
reading the name emblazoned on the box. "All right!"

My mom groaned.
"A video game? He sent you a video game? After I told him time
and time again that you needed socks and underwear?"

"I have
plenty
of underwear, Mom," I muttered, turning over the
box to read the back. Not to mention that even if I were down to my
last pair, I had zero desire for my father to be the one wandering
through Vicky Secrets, selecting new ones. I mean, what if he got me,
like, a thong or something? I would literally be required to die of
embarrassment right then and there and that would be the end of it.

"But
still! A video game?" Mom scowled. "Well, that just goes to
show you, your father
has
never and
will
never grow up.
He's always messing around with those computer games. Now he's
recruiting you, I guess."

It was about
time, too, I thought but didn't say. I'd begged Dad to let me play
Fields of Fantasy since he got the game himself a year ago. But he
kept insisting I wasn't old enough to join an online gaming community
like this. Too many foul-mouthed, inappropriate adult players, he
said, and wouldn't relent, even after I informed him I'd already
heard every swear under the sun in high school. Finally, he promised,
after weeks of my whining, that once I turned sixteen he'd let me
play. But I figured he'd long forgotten and had no idea he'd buy me
my own copy. What a great birthday present.

29

I noticed a
card had fallen from the gift. I tore it open and read Dad's note.

DEAR MADDY,

OKAY, KIDDO! I
PROMISED YOU THE GAME AND HERE IT IS! ONCE YOU CREATE A CHARACTER WE
CAN PLAY TOGETHER. THIS WAY, EVEN THOUGH WE DON'T LIVE IN THE SAME
HOUSE ANYMORE, WE CAN STILL HANG OUT VIRTUALLY WHENEVER WE WANT!!!

SO GO AHEAD
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?

INSTALL THE
GAME ON YOUR AND MEET ME IN THE FIELDS OF FANTASY!

LOVE,

DAD (AKA
ROCKSTARBOB)

"Wow,
that's so cool," I remarked, trying to peel off the sticky tape
holding the box closed. "I need to check this out now."
Yup, once again Dad managed to come through with the most original,
most rocking present. And what a great idea--to find a way to meet up
online. He must have missed me as much as I missed him.

"You have
ten minutes," Mom told me. "Then it's time for cake."
She rose from her seat, signaling that the present-opening portion of
our evening had ended. Guess she really
wasn't
trying to trick
me when she swore up and down that she hadn't bought me an iPod for
my birthday or signed me up for driver's ed. Doomed to exist another
year being the only sophomore alive who was still sporting a
practically antique

30

Discman. And
there sure wasn't a new car in the driveway either.

Don't get me
wrong. I wasn't one of those spoiled
My Super Sweet 16
kids
you saw on MTV. I knew money was tight and the last thing I wanted to
do was make Mom feel bad for not being able to provide for us. The
woman worked two jobs, just to keep us in clothes and shoes. But at
the same time I couldn't help but be a little resentful. After all,
if she hadn't ditched Dad, there'd be plenty of money for high-end
electronics. Not to mention a house we didn't have to share with
Grandma. Back in my hometown. With my friends.

Actually, make
that my former friends. As in the ones who didn't even bother to show
up for my birthday party. I'd IMed both Caitlin and Ashley a week ago
to invite them and they swore they'd be here. But then about a half
hour before the party, they both texted me--Caitlin couldn't get a
ride. Ashley was "sick."

Yeah, right.
How convenient. Especially when I went on Facebook and saw there was
a big party at David Silverman's house tonight. Traitors. But, hey, I
probably would have ditched my own party for that, so I couldn't
really blame them. I just wished they'd had the guts to tell me the
truth.

I sighed and
scrambled to my feet, stepping over piles of discarded wrapping
paper, pink sweaters from Old Navy that I'd never wear, the Barbie
from Grandma, who failed to realize that I was no longer eight, and
the designer clothes for Barbie from Emily, who
was
eight and
obviously plotted to

31

steal both doll
and wardrobe as soon as my back was turned and thus make even
my
birthday all about her.

After throwing
out a generic thank-you, I headed upstairs to my bedroom and switched
on my computer, slipped the game disc into the CD drive, and started
the install. The computer was a divorce gift from Dad, though Mom
preferred to refer to it as a bribe, saying it was way too high end
to simply do homework on. I was glad to have it now, though. Fields
of Fantasy had some demanding system requirements.

As I waited for
the disc to install, I skimmed through the instructions. It was an
adventure game, a sort of Dungeons & Dragons meets
Lord of the
Rings
type thing. You played online, creating a character to
fight monsters and win treasure. I'd watched Dad play for hours--he
was totally addicted--and it always looked like such fun. I was
thrilled to finally have a chance to become a gamer girl myself. Not
to mention it would be great to get some quality alone time with
Dad--something that rarely happened even during our weekend visits,
mostly because Emily was endlessly demanding something to steal Dad's
attention away from me.

My computer
chirped at me, confirming the game had been loaded and was ready to
play. I clicked on the desktop icon and logged on.

The program
launched and stopped at a player selection screen, prompting me to
design my new character. There were lots of different-looking types
to choose from. Some were human, while others were random
species--elves, half-lings, orcs, even undead creatures.

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