“For the geeks?”
“For that cute one on your phone, obviously.”
Cooper chooses a caramel-colored corduroy jacket over a white shirt and matching boots, and, damn it, Cooper is always so put together. I can create a suit of armor out of sheets of tin and pop-tops, but I can never style myself. I love too many things, too many styles. He looks great and I look like a dude, but I guess that’s all that matters right now.
“Let’s go, bro.” He punches my arm as we check each other out in his floor-length mirror.
“Heh. Here bros nothing.”
“If it’s not Mountain Dew, it’s not tradition, man.” Brody is debating over a spread of two-liter bottles set up inside of Atomix. He taps a red plastic cup against the glass counter with every syllable. “Moun. Tain. Dew. Is. Our. Brew.”
“I’m just sick of it. What’s wrong with black cherry?” The two boys, one I’ve never met, are so preoccupied with their dispute they don’t notice Cooper and me standing in the doorway. I’m having my own debate: stick this out and see it through, or run. Fast. Cooper must notice my trepidation, so, naturally, he shoves me into the room.
“Ahem!” he coughs out as I stumble forward.
“Hey, man, you’re Why’s guy, right?” Brody smiles and opens the Dew.
“Uh, yeah. Yep. Right.” My eyes dart around the shop. I can barely look at him. My head is sweating underneath the beanie. The mess of hair tucked inside only intensifies the heat. I can feel Cooper staring at me. They’re all staring at me.
“I’m Cooper. Cameron’s brother.”
“Ah, nice. Lincoln. I’m the DM.” Brody’s friend shakes Cooper’s hand, and then sticks it out for me to take. It’s a great hand, a handsome hand. Broad, and twice the size of mine. I can’t stop thinking of his hand reaching out and palming my entire face. In a good way? A really good way.
“Hello?” Lincoln waves his perfect hand in front of my eyes, and I finally snap back to reality.
“Yeah, hi. Hey. ’Sup?” I shake his callused hand and hope that mine feels sufficiently manly. “Cameron.”
“Don’t worry, there are never any dragons on the first day,” Lincoln says, picking up on my nervous vibes. His smile spreads across his face; his cheeks are two round, soft peaches. He’s trying to break the ice, but I just end up melting. It takes all of my resolve to not tilt my head to the side and flutter my eyelashes. I straighten up and crack my knuckles just to distract myself. “We’re just waiting on Why. He’s always late. You guys can set up if you need to.” He points to the folding table, then starts pulling little figurines out of his bag.
Lincoln is not what I expected to find in Atomix tonight. Sure, he fits the role perfectly: a SCHRÖDINGER’S CAT IS ALIVE T-shirt, pleated khakis, and boat shoes. Everything about him screams omega-level nerd, but I can’t take my eyes off him. I thought I might make some new friends today, but I never imagined I’d meet one with that kind of potential. Forget Brody; forget Internet trolls; forget everything, because: Lincoln. Sandy-blond, peach-faced Lincoln.
Cooper and I pick out two seats at the long table set up for us and try to go through the motions of getting ready. Neither of us have any clue what we actually need to set up. We shuffle our character sheets around and line up our dice. Cooper asks if he can use mine: sure, whatever. My eyes are fixed on Lincoln’s face, Lincoln’s body. He’s much taller than me, and he is bigger, softer. He has this great unmissable presence in the room. A hug from him could smother me, and aren’t those the best kinds of hugs?
“You’re drooling, Cam,” Cooper mumbles under his breath.
“Shut up.”
“You’re being obvious—that’s all I’m saying.” Cooper rolls the sparkly purple die, and it lands on a ten.
“Hail, hail, the gang’s all here!” Brody’s voice booms across the store as Why finally joins the rest of us.
“I wouldn’t leave you mageless—never fear,” Why jokes.
“Hey, Why!” I call to him. Now that he’s actually here, I feel more comfortable—excited even—and grateful he invited me. I don’t care if it’s only because he thinks I’m a dude. “This is Cooper, my brother.” They exchange handshakes, and I swear I see Cooper blush. Great, now we’re both swooning.
“I’m so glad you came; it’s gonna be a blast. Promise.” Why’s overstuffed spiral notebook spills out on the table in front of him. The cover is creased and worn; I wonder how many characters are crammed into those pages.
“Dew? Dew?” Brody offers each of us a cup of the carbonated yellow drink. “Dew?”
“Make mine a double,” Cooper jokes.
“Heh, good call.” Brody actually laughs at Cooper, and I see him relax a bit.
“Is that…? No, it can’t be.” Lincoln points to my pile of stats and papers.
“What?” I look at all the other books laid out on the lopsided folding table. Oh shit, we messed up. “Did we bring the wrong book?” I hold up Dad’s handbook.
“It is! It’s a first edition!”
“Holy shit, let me see it!” Brody grabs the book right out of my hands, cracks it open, and starts flying through the pages.
“Careful, man. That’s vintage,” Lincoln scolds him, and takes the handbook from him.
“Where on this planet earth did you score that?” Why asks.
“It was my dad’s.”
“Oh, for real?! You two are gonna slay us all, aren’t you?” Why smiles.
“Slaying is what I’m best at,” Cooper boasts. Why coughs, trying to hold in a mouthful of soda.
“Do we have to start over? What book are you guys using?” I ask the table.
“Three point five.” Brody holds up his book. It’s brown, printed to look like some ancient, gilded, leather-bound volume.
“No, we’re using five,” Lincoln corrects him, holding up his own copy. His features an enormous demon swathed in flames on the glossy hardcover. My version seems rinky-dink in comparison.
“I told you, I don’t want to play unless it’s three. Three point five was my compromise.” Brody folds his arms and practically pouts. I can’t believe I was intimidated by him. He’s such a baby.
“So we’re screwed?” Cooper asks.
“Psh, Lincoln’ll make it work.” Why takes our character sheets and passes them along to our Dungeon Master. Brody reluctantly forks his over too. Lincoln is flipping through the papers while I watch his overgrown blond hair fall around his soft face. He rubs his chin and reads carefully. Why keeps rolling one of his dice anxiously.
I glance around the table. Could these be my people? My new Eugene crew? The way Why bounces in his seat reminds me of Liv with her endless energy. I think she’d like him. She would call me crazy for my insta-crush on Lincoln. But that’s why I have Cooper. To validate all my swoony feelings, because he gets them twice as much as I do. And there’s Brody, I guess. I don’t know what to do about him. Where are all the girls?
“It’s great that you’re here.” Why leans in. “I’ve really missed playing.”
“Can I be honest?” I huddle in, whispering in my tenor voice. Why nods. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Try to remember that it’s just a game. You’ll be fine.” He snickers. “Oh man, I’m almost jealous—you never forget your first time.”
“Ha!” Lincoln’s voice rumbles the table. I worry that he heard me and Why and is laughing at my inexperience. He keeps laughing to himself as he gathers his hair into a short ponytail. He looks a little nuts, laughing and rubbing his hands together maniacally. He’s got plans for us.
“What’s that thing?” Cooper asks while Lincoln sets up a folded paper screen in front of all his books and dice and pens.
“This is where the magic happens.” Lincoln waggles his eyebrows. “I get to be a little sneaky, don’t want to spoil all your fun.”
“Shut up, Brody,” Why interjects. Cooper smiles and relaxes a bit, relieved to have someone stick up for him.
“Let’s begin, shall we?” Lincoln straightens up in his seat. The rest of us lean forward on the edges of ours.
* * *
“We’ll start at the Brass Talon, a dimly lit stone bunker of a tavern with a long brass bar and cheap drinks. Clover, Wizzy, you are at the bar waiting on two pints of mead, each of which will surely be bigger than your heads combined. You’re in for a long night of getting wrecked after escaping from the dungeons at Elkmire Castle.” Lincoln is looking at me and Why. I’m playing Clover, so Wizzy must be Why’s character.
I love the story and the way Lincoln tells it. I let out a laugh, but in an instant all the joy drains out of me. The sound of my own girlish giggling is a dead giveaway. Cooper, covering with lightning speed, fakes a loud sneeze, calling attention away from me.
“Sorry,” he sniffles. “Damn allergies.”
“Here, dude.” Why offers Cooper an honest-to-goodness handkerchief from his pocket. Coop’s face flashes red, and not from hay fever. Distraction achieved. How do boys sound when they laugh? Not like me, that’s for sure.
“What about the rest of us?” Brody asks.
“I’ll get there,” Lincoln continues. “Clover, you were locked up for thievin’, and Wizzy, you should’ve known—under drow rule, halflings aren’t allowed to practice wizardry. No matter, though—you both managed to escape.”
“Oh God.” Cooper groans at the rhyme. Why and I bust up, me laughing with my mouth closed.
“I love it,” Why says.
“You would, you dork,” Brody scolds. “Let’s get on with it.”
“Fine, fine. Clover, roll a perception check for me,” Lincoln tells me. I pick up my d20, unsure about what he wants me to do.
“Just roll it and add your wisdom modifier.” Brody points out what he’s talking about on my sheet. He’s actually being…helpful. Lincoln and I both roll dice, his behind the screen. I can’t see what his lands on, but mine lands on a seventeen.
“Okay, then! You’re having a grand time with your friend, but you can’t help feeling distracted by the barkeep’s golden pocket-watch chain.”
“I want it.”
“Yes, yes you do.” Lincoln turns to Cooper and Brody. “Now, the two of you are seated in a far corner of the Brass Talon. Brody, your character is here to get some answers about the crown of Valzyr. As you know, it was lost in battle against the orc army that has been plaguing your homeland, and you want it back. The drow are terribly close to being removed from power, and you do not want to see that happen. To you or your people.”
“What?” Cooper asks, confused by the backstory.
“Just go with it,” Brody laughs.
“Roll a perception check for me, Tiffani.”
“You play a girl?” I ask without thinking. It goes against everything I know about Brody. That he hates our kind. It doesn’t make any sort of sense that he would want to play one.
“Yeah, a dumb one.” He smirks, and rolls his d20. Okay, maybe I wasn’t wrong. I tug my hat back down around my ears and study the ceiling tiles. No matter how much it feels like I’m fitting in, I know I don’t. He rolls a measly five, but Lincoln must’ve rolled even worse.
“Suddenly there is some kind of commotion at the bar. You look up and notice that a halfling has spilled an entire tankard of mead. The barkeep is pissed.”
“Do I see this too?” Cooper asks.
“Oh yeah, everyone sees this. But, Tiffani? You notice one of the halflings scurrying around. It appears he’s trying to clean up the mess, but you look up just in time to see him steal the barkeep’s pocket watch.”
“Hmm.” Brody ponders the situation.
“Roll a dexterity check, Clover,” Lincoln instructs.
“Fifteen.”
“Is that with your bonus?”
“Whoops, it’s actually seventeen.”
“Much better. Okay, Clover, your distraction worked, and you manage to get the watch off of the barkeep. You are out a whole pint of mead, though. Tiffani, you’re impressed with Clover’s skills. He might be of use to you.”
* * *
The rest of the adventure plays out over the next two hours, with Brody’s character inviting me and Why to join their discussion of the whereabouts of the crown of Valzyr. We all decide to team up and help Tiffani, even though I’m not sure my character would really do that. But I’m not about to rock the boat in my first game. Cooper eventually finds his footing near the end of the session when he gets us all thrown out of the tavern instead of arrested. Brody cleans up the cups and table while we wind down.
“You were killer. On point.” Why smiles. “Both of you.”
“Weren’t they?” Lincoln puts his arm around Why, and I’m instantly jealous, even though the gesture seems purely friendly. Why must notice my discomfort, and nudges Lincoln off him.
“You’ll come again, right?”
“That stupid bitch!” Brody screams at his phone. He slams it down on the counter and paces back and forth, his face practically purple. “What’s wrong with her? I mean, what the fuck?” he rages.
“Brina?” Why asks him, squinting.
“Of course Brina. Who else would straight-up torture me like this? Look what she posted. Look!” Brody holds his phone up for us all to see. It’s a picture of a girl wearing a Batman shirt, sitting on a couch with a boy. They both have video game controllers in their hands. The girl is looking at the boy, rather than the game they are playing.
“What am I missing?” Lincoln asks what we’re all thinking.
“She’s just a fucking poser. She needs to stop flaunting all this—”
“Chill out, she’s allowed to post whatever she—” Lincoln steps in, but Brody cuts him off as soon as he starts.
“I’m so sick of fucking fake girls. What’s their malfunction? Every single one, always pretending to be into my stuff. And for what? To use me.”
“It’s not like you two ever actually dated,” Why offers.
“Exactly my point! I didn’t want to be her fucking friend.” He spits out the word with disgust. “She knew what I wanted, and she was a fake and she played me. Girls are useless.” Brody pinches the bridge of his nose, and I’m transported to my first day at Atomix. When he made that same face at me, in my doughnut dress, when I didn’t know who Dazzler was. My hands shake, and I shove them back in my pockets. I take one deep breath after another, trying to hold it together. Waiting for someone, anyone, to tell him he’s wrong, to tell him to shut up. No one does. Not even Cooper.
In a fit, Brody swipes at a pile of comics on the counter and storms off into the staff room. Spider-Gwen looks up at me from the floor, useless, and I have to get out of here.
“Let’s go, Coop,” I whisper, and he leads the way without question.
“See you next time?” Why asks me as the cool night air hits my face. I shrug my shoulders and keep on walking.
“He didn’t notice, I promise.” Cooper tries to reassure me on the way back home. He drives fast, and I let the wind screw up my matted hair. I need the air; I need to breathe.
“I know he didn’t.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.” Of course I don’t want to talk about it. What would I even say? I knew what I was getting into. I know Brody is an asshole. No, I’m not this Brina girl, but I could have been. Easily. I’ve had guy friends pissed at me when I didn’t want them to be boyfriends. I don’t understand it. What’s wrong with being just friends? They had no problem including boy-Cameron, but girl-Cam is a useless, fake bitch. I need to get out of these clothes. They don’t help anything. I’m not changing any lives or minds with my clandestine protest. What’s t
he point? I can use the handbook and come up with costume ideas on my own. I don’t need to be distracted by stupid games anyway.
“What about for just thirty seconds?” he begs me as we pull into the driveway. He sets the timer on his phone and, eyebrow arched, holds it up.
“No, Snap. Go to bed.” I slam the car door, walk straight up to the loft, and watch Cooper make his way to the house from the window. I don’t start crying until he’s inside.
I sob and undress, Brody’s voice ringing in my head. I ball up Cooper’s clothes and hurl them into a corner. I stare them down. It’s dark. So damn dark. I open my inbox and read fifteen of those emails just to reinforce that he’s right. They’re all right.
ScottW10K left a comment on your photo:
This is what fucking bugs the shit out of me with all these dumbass cosplay idiots. This isn’t even creative. Creative would be creating something new. This bitch gets an award for what? Gender swapping fucking Final Fantasy. WOW. Good job. Congrats on being able to fucking trace the lines of someone else’s hard work. At least her tits aren’t fucking on parade like 100% of the other cosplay whores.
It’s all just bull fucking shit. I grew up being shunned and left out and being made a fool of by females. Getting ripped apart for not liking football or fucking pop music. I know these bitches, I can sniff one out from miles away. And now I’m pissed the fuck off by these twats capitalizing off of the attention of nerds because being a geek is suddenly cool. This bitch here is no different.
The floor is cold, and chills radiate from my back to my arms and legs. I’m dotted with goose bumps, my face wet with tears. The ceiling is covered in glowing patterns that shift when the wind rustles the trees. Dancing shapes, dark shadows, begging me to translate them into fabric. Inspired, I let myself get mad—no, angry. Livid.
“How dare you,” I yell at all the anons in my head. Leave us alone. Leave me alone. You have no idea what you’re talking about! I don’t bother finding something else to wear. I sit down at my sewing table and get to work in my underwear.
Chaotic Good Page 6