by K. A. Holt
CHAT INFRACTION
SB10BEN: GAH
SB10BEN: if players know there’s a way to beat the ghosts, it’ll be HUGE, grasshopper
SB10BEN: think about it. if you know there’s a potion you can use so that your avatar will never die, wouldn—
CHAT INFRACTION
0BenwhY: But can you even DO that? It changes one of the . . . what are they? Fun-what rules?
SB10BEN: Fundamental Rules of Sandbox. Yes. True. It changes a truth that ghosts don’t die.
0BenwhY: well can you CHANGE that?
SB10BEN: it’s MY game!
0BenwhY: i thought you said the money guys make you do stuff you hate all the time? like making stupid chat i—
CHAT INFRACTION
0BenwhY: like making you invent THAT
SB10BEN: i know, i know.
SB10BEN: but what if this ghostkiller potion is my revenge?
SB10BEN: what if the money guys don’t know about it and there’s a leak?
0BenwhY: a leak?
SB10BEN: like, what if SOMEONE tests it out in public?
SB10BEN: just, you know, casually melts some ghosts?
SB10BEN: In front of a lot of players?
SB10BEN: On a public server?
SB10BEN: with the handy ghostkiller avatar I created?
SB10BEN: and what if people realize they don’t have to hide in the dark anymore?
SB10BEN: they can play loud music
SB10BEN: and build all night
SB10BEN: and what if all that new knowledge goes viral?
0BenwhY: that’s a lot of what-ifs.
0BenwhY: *what if* YOU get in trouble?
0BenwhY: when the money guys figure out you made this? and leaked it?
0BenwhY: you said nothing is anonomous anymuos GAH anonymous on the internet.
SB10BEN: honestly, i don’t really care. I want Sandbox to be fun again. for me.
SB10BEN: and not just work
SB10BEN: this seems like a good way to do that
SB10BEN: so . . . wanna be my partner in crime?
0BenwhY: UM DUH
SB10BEN: haha.
SB10BEN: ok, it’s your turn to make the potion. Remember the ingredients? All the steps?
SB10BEN: you have to memorize it, ok? don’t ever write it down. No one else can know.
SB10BEN: it’s something players will have to figure out on their own
SB10BEN: they’ll have to . . . wait for it . . . co-llab-o-rate, and list-en
0BenwhY: stop akjflhkgfdl i can hear you singing in my head. never do that again.
0BenwhY: And yes, I remember the ingredients.
SB10BEN:
SB10BEN: OK. Go harvest some fairy tears.
SB10BEN: We’ll see how many tries it takes before you get it right.
SB10BEN: . . .
SB10BEN: Awwwwwwww shiitake mushrooms.
SB10BEN: Can you hang on a second?
SB10BEN: Or, actually, can you go gather up the ingredients while I do a quick work thing? I’ll be right ba—
CHAT INFRACTION
SB10BEN HAS BEEN EJECTED FROM GAME
THIRTY MINUTE RESPAWN COUNTDOWN BEGINS NOW
NOW
0BenwhY: i hate to say it, but . . .
0BenwhY: i finally got your room
0BenwhY: please don’t haunt me
0BenwhY: MOM gave it to me, so you can haunt her if you want
PlanetSafeAce: hello? oh good! you’re here.
PlanetSafeAce: I wasn’t sure you’d be here. After . . .
PlanetSafeAce:
0BenwhY: of course I’m here. this is MY cabin.
0BenwhY: i really need to change the password now
PlanetSafeAce: I’m sorry I made you sad.
PlanetSafeAce: Even though I’ve been telling you I wasn’t a ghost.
0BenwhY: yeah you told me and told me
0BenwhY: and I always knew you couldn’t be him
0BenwhY: i’m not THAT dumb
0BenwhY: but still
0BenwhY: you kept using his avatar
0BenwhY: *why* did you do that?
PlanetSafeAce: I guess I didn’t think you’d think I was interesting or want to talk to me
PlanetSafeAce: if I was *me* me and not me *him*
PlanetSafeAce: and then, you were kind of right earlier . . . I wanted you to figure me out.
PlanetSafeAce: I mean, not like a *game*, but just like you were really paying attention
PlanetSafeAce: bleh. that thought made more sense in my brain . . .
0BenwhY: how did you even get in the cabin in the first place?
PlanetSafeAce: you were in the library after school one day
PlanetSafeAce: I walked up behind you while you were on the computer
PlanetSafeAce: you looked really busy so I didn’t say anything
PlanetSafeAce: and I saw you signing into the cabin
0BenwhY: THAT’S how you hacked in? You just saw me type the password? So low tech!
PlanetSafeAce: Yeah, I’m not a computer genius or anything.
PlanetSafeAce: you were, like, in the cabin chatting with yourself and that made me feel bad
PlanetSafeAce: like no one would play Sandbox with you or something.
0BenwhY: you low-tech hacked into my secret cabin because you felt SORRY for me???
PlanetSafeAce: No!
PlanetSafeAce: Well . . . kind of. Sorry.
PlanetSafeAce: but then I didn’t think you liked me IRL
PlanetSafeAce: especially after I tried to take one for the team
PlanetSafeAce: that’s why I freaked out and didn’t want to use my own avatar
PlanetSafeAce: in case you got mad about the low-tech hacking, too
PlanetSafeAce: and also in case you didn’t want to talk to *me* me.
PlanetSafeAce: anyway, i read a little over your shoulder
PlanetSafeAce: that’s how I figured out you were (not) chatting with your brother
PlanetSafeAce: then i did a little research and figured out who your brother was
0BenwhY: OMG I WAS RIGHT YOU ARE TOTALLY A CREEPER.
PlanetSafeAce: i know, i know. but i really, really wanted you to like me
PlanetSafeAce: and i’m always saying dumb things and acting like a weirdo IRL
PlanetSafeAce: and i wanted a way to sort of . . . *make* you want to talk to me
PlanetSafeAce: especially after I messed everything up by trying to SAVE YOU!
0BenwhY: save me?
PlanetSafeAce: Well . . . you saved me from the poncho thing! And I was trying to return the favor. . . .
PlanetSafeAce: . . . by saving you from the unauthorized Hart Times thing
0BenwhY: how did you even know it was me? who made the unauthorized Hart Times?
PlanetSafeAce: oh come on, how could I NOT know? You were smiling all day.
PlanetSafeAce: Like I’d never seen before
PlanetSafeAce: everyone else seemed so shocked about it, but you were just smiling and quiet
PlanetSafeAce: anyway, you seemed to hate me after that.
PlanetSafeAce: and i thought maybe i could get you to like me *before* you knew it was me
PlanetSafeAce: and i totally see now how that makes no sense
PlanetSafeAce: and how i’m pretty much the definition of an awful person
0BenwhY: is that all?
PlanetSafeAce: I’m not really sure what else you want me to say right now.
PlanetSafeAce: but hopefully you can accept my apology
0BenwhY: YOU USED MY DEAD BROTHER’S AVATAR TO TRICK ME INTO FEELING SAFE.
0BenwhY: omg, now that I really think about it . . . you took the only place I’ve EVER felt safe
0BenwhY: and you ruined it.
0BenwhY: AND you tried to take credit for my awesome unauthorized Hart Times
PlanetSafeAce: I WAS TRYING TO TAKE THE FALL FOR YOU, NOT CREDIT!!!!
PlanetSafeAce: sorry. continue.
0BenwhY: i haven�
��t slept well in days. did you know that?
0BenwhY: you know what you *actually* accomplished?
0BenwhY: you managed to revive my Old Sad, create a New Sad, and mix the two up into a Now Sad.
0BenwhY: and for what?
0BenwhY: did your plan work?
0BenwhY: does it feel like we’re friends now?
0BenwhY: does it feel like I think you’re cool now?
0BenwhY: DOES IT?
PlanetSafeAce HAS EXITED GAME
SCHOOL
I don’t know how I knew
but I knew
even though Jordan
wasn’t on the bus,
he’d be waiting for me
in room 113
under the stairs
before school.
As soon as he sees me,
he crashes into me
like a much bigger Ben Hur,
and we hug it out
and neither one of us says anything
because we don’t need to
and WHEW
I feel so much better
I might puke.
I’m so glad—
and so lucky—
to feel so
NOT
alone.
Anymore.
Once we say bye,
I fly
to my locker
faster than ever
so I can try
really hard
this one time
to not be late
to class,
when
SLAM
the locker next to me
closes to reveal
Ace’s face,
blocking my way
of escape.
I’m really really really sorry,
Ace says.
I sidestep,
start moving,
taking a different,
longer route
to class.
Ace jogs after me.
I pick up the pace.
I know you’re sorry,
I finally say
to the air in front of me,
but I need
some Safe Space from Ace
for a little while,
okay?
Ace catches up,
walking fast
next to me now.
Deal.
Just please don’t hate me, Ben Y.
You can be mad all you want.
But please, please don’t hate me.
Ace’s face is round,
open,
maybe even scared.
I can’t have another Me hate me.
The bell rings.
We are officially late to class.
Siiiigh.
I stop walking.
Ace stops walking.
I face Ace.
Ace faces me.
I kind of want to hate you,
but I don’t hate you.
I’m MAD at you, but . . .
I could never hate you.
And mad is different than hate.
Plus, you’re a Me.
And I’m a You.
And that means
this tiny group
of you and me
is the first We
of yous and mes
I’ve ever been
part of.
Ace smiles,
a lopsided
shy type of smile,
different
than the usual
24-carat-gold
sparkle smile
that comes with a wink
for free.
This is an under-the-mask smile,
a secret grin
from the kid
who cosplays
real life.
I bump Ace’s shoulder.
So, yeah.
I don’t hate you, Ace.
I could never hate you.
But I might need a minute
before we can be friends again.
The sparkle smile is back
as Ace exclaims
AGAIN??
SO WE WERE FRIENDS??
and we both laugh
and it’s kind of loud
and I should’ve known
to never stop moving
in the halls
after the bell
because . . .
to borrow a favorite quote from Jordan:
[fart noise].
AHEM.
The throat-clearing
is behind us.
Ace and I turn around slowly,
like every person
in every horror movie
before they get eaten
by a giant slime blob
or hacked up by a chainsaw.
It’s even worse
than a giant slime blob
or an out-of-control chainsaw though:
It’s Mr. Mann,
slapping his pad of detention slips
whack whack whack
slowly
against his palm.
Well, WELL.
Nice to see you AGAIN,
MX. Ybarra.
ACE.
Would you two like to BLAST OFF with me?
To . . . my OFFICE?
Ace shrugs and says,
No?
Rhetorical question, ACE.
Mr. Mann smiles big and bright.
Fire up your ENGINES, you two.
And set a course for . . .
my OFFICE.
He said my office twice
and ruined his whole bit.
Ace’s fresh-mint whisper
tickles my ear,
and I have to bite my cheek
not to laugh.
MR. MANN’S OFFICE
We need to talk about
a certain . . .
UNAUTHORIZED
and ill-INTENTIONED
anonymous FLYER
that has been the TALK
of the SCHOOL.
He crosses his arms,
looks down his nose,
at both of us.
You KNOW
bullying is in FACT
a vicious ACT
that can happen
to ADULTS
as well as
STUDENTS.
And ZERO-TOLERANCE
means
ZERO-TOLERANCE.
PERIOD.
His lips squinch
into the exact shape
of a cat butt
(just like on the flyer!!!)
before he gives us
whiplash
by smiling
big and bright
and saying:
But FIRST!
Might as well DRESS CODE you BOTH while you’re HERE!
HAVE a seat.
Mr. Mann cheerfully grabs a pen,
gazing at the detention slips
like they’re reflections of himself,
then he looks at me
up and down
in a way
that would get anyone my age
punched directly
in the face.
Stand UP.
I frown.
But you just said to—
My cheeks burn
as I stand.
Hands DOWN.
Fingers STRAIGHT.
He makes a
tsk tsk noise
and shakes his head.
Short shorts, AGAIN?
I mean . . .
they’re just shorts?
My legs are long.
I’m tall.
It’s Florida.
It’s hot all the time forever.
I’m never going to wear jeans.
I don’t say any of that, though.
I stay quiet.
I realize YOU think
your clothes CANNOT
literally HURT anyone,
MX. Ybarra,
but they ARE
LITERALLY
against district
POLICY,
so I guess that means
WEARING them
DOES literally
hurt YOU.
HMMM?
I take the detention slip.
I don’t say anything.
Now Mr. Mann looks Ace
up and down
and down and up
and his lip curls in a way
that I bet he doesn’t even notice
because it’s just a thing
his face does
all the time
when he sees anyone
like us.
I just don’t know where to start!
His mouth opens
like he knows exactly
where to start,
but he doesn’t get a chance
to start anything
because his office door
slams open
with a bang.
Before my head swings
even halfway around,
I hear Ms. J.
THERE you both are!
I TOLD you not to forget these,
but you were so intent
on running that errand for me,
you didn’t hear me.
I might be a terrible reader,
but there’s one thing I can read,
and that’s Ms. J’s face.
She’s looking down at us both
and her eyebrows say,
GET UP AND GO.
I grab Ace’s hand,
grab the two hall passes
from Ms. J’s hand,
and together
we GET UP AND GO.
Because we are the dumbest kids
in the history
of dumb kids,
we don’t actually leave
the front office.
We pretend we’re looking . . .
for something . . .
very important . . .
that Ms. J needs . . .
in the office . . .
and while we look for nothing,
we try our very very best
to hear everything
Ms. J and Mr. Mann
are saying.
Turns out,
we don’t need
to try to hear anything,