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Cocky Gamer: A Hero Club Novel

Page 13

by Lauren Helms


  He lets out a relieved sigh and leans into me, kissing my temple. He gets chattier the closer we get to the areas he wants to show me. In the end, the night is pleasant, and his grumpy behavior with his teammates is just a fleeting memory.

  The next day is filled with much of the same as the afternoon before. Sex, sightseeing, more sex, and more sightseeing. An hour before we are due to meet his friends for dinner, he gets a call and excuses himself down the hall, leaving me sitting on his bed.

  My eyes wander around his room, and it’s obvious that everything he owns is crammed into this small room. I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like if we lived together someday—if fate brought us together in a more permanent way, and his game stuff mixed in with my surf stuff and all my books I’m obsessive about.

  I mean, how long can a couple really keep up a long-distance relationship before settling down somewhere and making it official? Suddenly, I understand Ben’s worry from last night. Would he move to Hermosa or Culver City? Would I move here? Ugh, do I want to live in Chicago? The city is beautiful, but I’m a beach girl through and through. Would I be able to give all that up for a man? Would I move this soon into a relationship? If Ben asked me to, would I?

  Maybe.

  Just as my thoughts spiral out of control—I mean, I’m one step away from doodling my name plus his on every empty spot in an imaginary notebook—Ben walks back in.

  “Everything good?” I ask, noticing his face is tight.

  “Yeah.” He starts to say more but stops as he sits in his gamer chair.

  “How was it?” I push. The call is clearly bothering him.

  “It was a call about a job I applied for.” His voice is sharp, and I consider leaving it at that, but that’s not who I am. I don’t shy away from awkwardness.

  I straighten. “Okay, so it wasn’t good news?”

  “No, it was.”

  “All right,” I draw out. “Well, something is wrong. Tell me about the job.”

  His jaw tightens then relaxes before he speaks. “It would be a great opportunity for me. It’s too soon to say anything else.”

  I nod and he stares down at the phone in his hands.

  “Well, I’m gonna go get ready for dinner,” I offer. I gather my hair and makeup bag and as I pass, he snatches my hand. Looking down at him, I see the worry in his eyes, but he smiles anyway.

  “I’m sorry for being a dick. I’m just stressed out.”

  “Okay,” I respond.

  “Really. It’s not you.” He pulls me closer to him.

  Leaning down, I kiss him on the nose. “I’m here to talk or listen whenever you need, Ben.” Then I kiss him on the side of his mouth and pull away and walk to his bathroom to get ready.

  I’d love to say the night got easier, but that would be a lie. No, the night was strained, and if Ben’s friends noticed it, they were kind enough not to let on. He was distant and quiet. He held my hand and talked when necessary, but he wasn’t a wonderful date. He let his friends entertain me, and at the end of the night, I felt like I had gained four new girlfriends and lost one boyfriend.

  Maybe I misread this whole relationship. Things between us seem to be going alarmingly well. We’re unable to keep our hands to ourselves when we’re in the same room. We text and call at all hours of the day and night. I know there are times when relationships move fast. Not all adults take years to fall in love and get their happy ending, much like Aubrey and Chance. But I don’t want to rush. And I feel like that’s all I’ve done with Ben since that day outside Melting Moon when I spilled my coffee all over him.

  Was Ben telling me the truth the night before? Does he regret my visit? Was he not ready for me to meet his people? It’s all too much as I lie in bed next to him. His back is to me, and just as I did after his phone call, I feel like he’s shut me out.

  I fly out tomorrow at two in the afternoon. We haven’t talked about the next time we’ll see each other. And as I fall into a restless sleep, I wonder if him dropping me off at the airport tomorrow will be for the last time. I hate to get so damn deep in my head, but damn it, I wanted this too much.

  Like I said, I knew it would hurt.

  13

  Ben

  Kelly doesn’t say much on the drive to the airport. As we got in the Uber outside my apartment, she told me I didn’t have to come to the airport with her, that she could handle sitting in the back of a car by herself. But I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her yet, and I didn’t know when I would see her again. So I climbed in behind her and sat quietly next to her. I was an ass yesterday—to her and the team. I woke up this morning ready to apologize, but her demeanor toward me changed.

  Not that I can blame her. Still, I wanted to redeem what I could and end this visit on a high note, so I did the only thing I knew to make it better.

  I tried waking her up by peppering kisses on her neck, hoping to apologize without any words, but she blew me off. Kelly claimed she had a headache and didn’t sleep well, so I took that as a sign to give her space instead.

  Tail tucked between my legs, I located some pain reliever and a glass of water for her, but that didn’t seem to help either. She lit up a bit when Bernie stopped by to see her. But her mood soured again the minute Bernie left.

  I clearly managed to drive a wedge between us after that call from Gallant Gaming yesterday, now damn if I knew the right way to fix things. I should have just told her exactly what was going on. That seemed like the adult thing to do, but I was holding back out of fear.

  I wanted as much time with Kelly as I could get before it was time for her to leave, but things were strained. Gallant called about flying me out to meet with them, wanting me to meet the team and see the headquarters. Setting up a time to visit soon is their top priority. But I’ve got to look at my schedule and figure out if I want to put all this time and effort into this job. I don’t want to waste their time—and mine—if I’m not actually considering taking the job. Do I really want to live in New York?

  There’s just a lot of shit in my head that I need to work through, and like the stubborn asshole I am, I’ve already decided I need to figure it out all on my own. The car pulls up to the airport at the second terminal, much like it did only two days ago. Slowly, we climb out of the car, and I shoulder her duffel. She’s mad at me, but I don’t let that keep me from grabbing her hand as we weave through the throngs of people milling about.

  There are still no words between us as we arrive at the gates that tell me I can’t go any further. She stops a few paces ahead of me before turning around and facing me. Her face remains blank.

  She isn’t much shorter than my five-nine, the top of her head coming to my chin. Looking down at her, I search her face for something—anything. But she doesn’t look me in the eye.

  “Look, Kel. I’m sorry for the way I acted yesterday.”

  She just looks at me, expecting me to continue. “I’ve got a lot of shit to figure out, and well, I just need some space to do that.”

  “Space,” she repeats slowly.

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s about to be two thousand miles between us. I’d call that space.” She doesn’t smile as she looks down and grips her duffel tight. I don’t know how to respond, so I tilt my head slightly to see if she’s going to say anything more. She doesn’t.

  “My life is about to change drastically, and I need to figure out my plan before it’s too late,” I say, telling her what she already knows.

  “I’m not sure I understand what that all means, but it’s fine. Good thing I’m heading home, then.”

  “No, Kel, it’s not a good thing you’re heading home. Especially not like this.” I sigh and drop my head. “I hate long distance. This seems like it would be so much easier if we didn’t live so far apart. I know I screwed up, okay? I clearly suck at this whole thing, but I’m not ready to let you go.” An announcement for her flight comes over the PA, and she looks over her shoulder toward the gates.

  “Call
me when you get home, yeah?” I lift my hands to her shoulders, gaining her attention. When she finally looks at me, I’m startled by the sadness I see in her eyes.

  “I will,” she mumbles. I pull her into a hug, and at first, she just stands there. But then she drops her duffel, her arms wrapping around me. I lean my head on top of hers and breathe her in. Fuck, this feels like a final goodbye.

  I don’t have it in me to ask her if that’s exactly what this is. I just need to figure out where my life is heading. That includes my career, where I live, and what relationship it entails. I told her from the get-go that long-distance relationships weren’t my jam. If I move even further away, it wouldn’t be fair to either of us to continue down the path.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper into her hair.

  “I know,” I barely hear her mumble.

  “We will figure this out, Kel.”

  She pulls away first, leaning down and scooping up her bag. She gives me a tight-lipped smile and turns and walks away. Not once does she glance over her shoulder at me. And I feel the invisible string that connects us pulling taut and nearly breaking.

  I consider calling out her name but decide that letting her go now will be easier than dragging this on.

  Fuck. What am I saying?

  Is this the end of the road for me and Kelly? Maybe we just need a couple of days to get our heads on straight.

  A couple of days turns into a week. Ten days ago, I dropped my girlfriend off at this same spot, but instead of stopping at the gates, I continue through them. I’m heading to Gallant Gaming for a quick trip. And then from New York, I’m heading to Los Angeles for E3, a yearly convention. Team NoMad was asked by VisionWave, the makers of Call of Battle, to attend as their guests. So this means we do a few signings and meet up with our sponsors. We also get to try out new games and sit through press conferences and such. Maybe it sounds boring, but to a gaming nerd, it’s the hottest place to be every June. Plus, there’s a new gaming system launching at the end of the year, and Team NoMad is on the schedule to try it out. The perks of this job are undeniable. Being part of the number one pro gaming team makes the deal even sweeter.

  My flight to New York is eventless. I’m picked up by the assistant of my contact, Ronnie, at Gallant. He’s a nice guy, overly excited about meeting me, and soon I learn that it’s the whole team that’s excited for my visit. Gallant takes up three floors in an office building that has twenty. The tour I get is in depth, and every single person I meet is friendly and welcoming.

  Over lunch, I meet with several people I’m told I’d be working with. That’s when I realize they aren’t interested in hiring me for the job I applied for, Release Manager. Which I’m fine with, as that job wasn’t exactly what I wanted in the first place. But now they want to hire me as their Online Community Manager—running their social media and blog, and handling community relations. And, damn, that’s not what I’m looking for at all.

  I tell them I’m only on Twitter because I have to be, and they reply that it doesn’t matter. Every tweet I post would garner engagement within minutes of it posting, but then it should be ignored. I tell them I have no experience dealing with social media, and they reply that it isn’t important to do this job.

  They don’t get it. They don’t get that, while I appreciate the fans, they aren’t what drives me to be the best. I love the industry. I love all the ins and outs—being involved from start to finish in the game’s development is where I want to be.

  I tell them this, and they respond that if I take the job as their Online Community Manager, I could make a switch to another department. Eventually.

  I get it. I do. I’m just a pro gamer. My degree in product management doesn’t give them the confidence they need to believe I’d be an asset to their team. My years of experience in a gamer role isn’t enough of a “deep understanding” of how a video game is made. They want to put me in an easy role and see what I’m capable of. They want to use my reach and connections to pull in more fans and customers.

  I spend the day at Gallant. I dig the company—the atmosphere and the people—even if I’m not sold on this position they’re offering.

  They lay out the compensation and benefits package. It’s impressive, I’ll give them that. They tell me the job goes live online in three weeks and needs to be filled before the end of the year. They understand I have obligations to my team until the end of August. I can accept the job and ease into it, not starting full time and in-person until September. I have anywhere from three weeks to two months to make my decision. If I don’t decide to take the job before the job goes up online, I risk losing it. Though, Ronnie made it clear I’d still be at the top of the list.

  I spend my flight to LA looking over the paperwork they gave me. It’s a good deal. I’m just not one I’m sure I want to take. Is it worth moving my life to New York? Is it a job worth ending whatever’s between Kelly and I? This is all the shit I’m going to have to mull over. I don’t want to lose Kelly, but the more I read through the offer, the more I realize how hard the added distance is going to be. I hate this.

  Since Kelly left Chicago, things between us have been strained. We text every day, but not nearly as much as we normally do. A lot of calls are missed. I can’t figure out why I haven’t told her I’m going to be so close to Hermosa. Why have I defaulted into asshole mode? I want to touch her and kiss her, but I’m hesitant. I’m starting to push her away, and I don’t understand why. Ultimately, I decide to get through this busy-ass weekend before talking to Kelly about where we stand. My trip to Gallant is nearly forgotten two days later. It’s been a busy two days, and the trade show is on fire this year. I make it a point to avoid the Gallant Gaming booth. I’m not a coward, it’s just something I don’t want to deal with.

  We’ve got two more days here, and I’m trying to embrace it. I know whatever I’m doing next year will still bring me to E3, but I won’t be here as a gamer. I won’t be here as a coveted guest. I’m okay with that, but I decide to live it up.

  Standing behind a black backdrop in one of the large convention rooms, I take in the scene. The team is getting ready for what has become our annual E3 signing. The large room is packed, but we can’t see the line. The backdrop is long, and we were ushered in only moments ago through an entrance directly behind the fabric wall. I know on the other side of that wall is a large sign with our team’s name and logo. Two long tables stretch in front of it where each of us—Chuck, myself, Bernie, Dex, and Simon—will take a seat. And for the next hour, we’ll meet and greet fans and sign posters, photos, shirts, and game boxes. E3 is mostly only open to industry professionals and media outlets, but there are certain events, such as signings that are open to the public.

  Right as an MC introduces us, I realize I haven’t heard from Kelly in a couple of days. Pulling out my phone, I send her a quick text. I realize she texted me this morning and I never texted her back, and shame overwhelms me.

  Me: Hey. Sorry I missed your text. It’s been a crazy busy week.

  Me: How are you? I miss you.

  “Please welcome Team NoMad!” I hear over the PA and clapping hands and yells ensue. I pocket my phone and follow the rest of my team out to the table. I don’t pull my phone back out of my pocket until we’re ushered through the entrance of a small meeting room we’ve been given as our team’s home base for the duration of the convention.

  “Well, that was fun,” Dex says with a chuckle.

  They all chat about what’s up next, but I’m not paying attention to them when I see my texts were undeliverable. Glancing at the corner of my screen, I see I have zero signal.

  Well, shit.

  “Ben, you want to grab lunch?” I look up at Simon and see he’s the only one left in the room with me.

  Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I say, “Where did everyone else go?”

  Chuckling, Simon slaps my back as he pushes me out of the room and closes the door behind him.

  “Dex has a lunch meeting. Be
rnie’s off to find Link and Ruby for something. That leaves me and you. Let’s get something to eat. I’m fucking starving.”

  “All right,” I mumble. Wow, I totally zoned out and missed all of that.

  Twenty minutes later, we have subs, chips, and drinks and find a table in one of the large makeshift cafeterias.

  “So you visited Gallant a couple of days ago. How’d it go?” Simon says around a bite of his sandwich.

  “The company is fire. Great atmosphere, welcoming team,” I tell him honestly.

  “I sense a but coming.”

  “But… they don’t want me for the job I applied for. They want to hire me as their Online Community Manager.” I take a drink of my orange soda.

  Simon tilts his head. “And that’s not what you’re looking for?”

  “Fuck, no. You know I’m only on Twitter because Rob said I had to pick one social media outlet—marketability or some shit like that,” I grunt. I pushed back on the social media crap. Management wanted me to be on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, and either Twitch or YouTube. I made it clear I’m not interested in making videos or posting pictures about the food I eat for lunch. So I settled on Twitter. The whole team tweets, we have a Facebook page, and Bernie handles our team’s Instagram account along with her personal one. Over the years, I’ve gotten used to Twitter, not minding it at all. But a few 280-character tweets a day work just fine for me.

  “So you’re not gonna take the job?” Simon asks, and I ignore the fact I haven’t actually told the team I’m looking for other work and planning on leaving them.

  I let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know. It seems to be my only option.”

  “What does Kelly think?” he asks as he pops open his bag of pickled-flavored kettle chips.

  I slide my gaze a few tables away. “I haven’t told her.”

  “We’ve been busy. E3 and Comic-Con always suck all the energy out of you,” he offers.

 

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