by Sam Maggs
Alex trailed Cat as she dove and dodged to the front of the crowd of people taking photos of the cosplayers. There was a Dark Spider, a retro Miss Paradigm, and a Captain Patriot (the version with a beard). As they were striking a very impressive power pose, Cat stopped at the edge of the crowd. She was collecting herself. Ah, Alex thought with an internal sigh. We’re going for strategic adorableness today.
Cat stepped forward, her hands behind her back and her head down a little. She looked up at the cosplayers through her eyelashes. Even though he was still a bit irritated, Alex found himself holding in a laugh as he unlocked his phone. Cat had never been shy for a day in her life, but she put on the act pretty well.
“Um, hi, excuse me?” Cat’s voice was barely audible over the crowd. “Can we—can I get a picture with you? Please?”
Captain Patriot broke his power pose to look over at Cat and smiled. “Why, of course, dear citizen! Anything for the sweet children of this great nation!”
“Oh, gosh, thank you so … so much,” Cat said, her head still down. Alex felt like he was somewhere between a wave of horrible secondhand embarrassment for his sister and a massive laugh attack about his sister. This was a good plan. Alex was big enough to admit that. He just wished his sister would ask his opinion about these things every once in a while before launching herself headlong into them.
Still, this was happening, so Alex shouldered his way to Cat’s old spot at the front of the crowd and held up his phone. This was his cue.
Cat got into place between Dark Spider and Miss Paradigm as Alex hit PLAY on his music app. The first notes of an epic guitar riff piped out of his phone’s speaker. Alex cranked the volume up. He’d never heard of “Eye of the Tiger” before it came up on the Quest list, but he was a little bit obsessed with it now. He’d listened to it more than one hundred times. It was really good pump-up music for doing his math homework. He’d just hit that REPEAT button and the song would play over and over again until he didn’t even really hear it anymore. He had gotten particularly excited when he and Cat and their parents were watching a movie together and the familiar melody blasted through a superhero training montage. (Alex’s parents had been shocked to discover he knew every word.)
And apparently, so did everyone else, at least in this crowd. The song did exactly what the twins had expected it to—the second the crowd recognized the bop, they all started to dance along. Cat started to dance with them. It wasn’t long before the Vigilante League cosplayers were jamming to it, too. Alex opened his camera app and hit RECORD just in time for Cat to start singing the chorus—and nobody cannot sing the chorus to “Eye of the Tiger.” It just kind of happens.
Alex watched the dance party through his phone’s camera, mouthing the lyrics as they played. This was thirty-seven points! This was huge! This was Dangermaker huge!
But—wait. Something wasn’t right. Were they … getting the lyrics wrong? Alex listened. The Vigilante League didn’t know the lyrics to the song very well. They were getting them wrong!
Alex’s hand started to shake. He grabbed his wrist with his other hand so as not to ruin the video. It was the itch. The wrong feeling. It was flooding his entire body. How could they be getting it wrong? It wasn’t hard. The song wasn’t difficult. And the Quest item said to sing the song. Not to sing something that kind of sounded like the song a little bit but was actually something else entirely. Why weren’t they getting it right?
Alex waved one hand to get Cat’s attention. They’re not singing it right, Alex mouthed, keeping quiet so as not to interrupt the video.
Cat frowned but kept dancing. What?! she mouthed back.
“They’re not—” Alex stopped the recording and threw his phone back into his bag. “Forget it. We got it.”
Cat stood there for a second as the music shut off. The watching crowd let out a disappointed “Awww” and started to disperse around them. Alex watched Cat thank the cosplayers in a hurry before rushing back over to him. She was never going to understand this. Alex could feel himself spiraling.
“What is going on with you?!” Cat demanded. See, thought Alex. I knew she wouldn’t get it.
“There’s nothing going on with me.”
“You turned the music off while we were getting the clip!” Cat swung her hands in the direction of the cosplayers, getting them caught in her cape. “If you’d kept it going, we could have even probably gotten bonus marks for style! Why’d you do that?!”
Alex just stared at his sister. Did she not know they had gotten it wrong? He figured if he explained it to her slowly, maybe he could make her understand.
“They weren’t singing it right,” he said, shaking his head. “They were ruining it.”
“It doesn’t matter what they were singing!” Cat shot back.
It didn’t matter? It didn’t matter? Of course it mattered! “Yes, it does!” Alex exploded. “Yes, it does! We’ll never get full marks if they got it wrong, and if you hadn’t just barged in there without asking me first—”
“Asking you first?” Cat repeated in disbelief. “Why would I ask you first?”
“You never ask me first,” Alex responded.
“Exactly! So why would I now? We got the points! It’s fine!”
“It’s not fine, Cat, I wish you would stop saying that—” Alex stopped suddenly. Something was prickling at the back of his neck. He didn’t get distracted often, so when he did, it usually meant there was something really wrong. He spun around.
A few of the people from the crowd who’d been videoing the “Eye of the Tiger” dance party were now videoing them. Alex froze in place.
Cat peered around her brother’s head. “Excuse me? A little privacy here?”
The gawkers stood there for a second, unsure of how to react to this very loud, extremely brash, costumed twelve-year-old.
“I said beat it, you creeps! I know a con staff member! You want me to call James M. on the phone right now because I will—”
That was enough to get the small crowd to disperse. Alex had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He fished his cell phone back out of his bag and opened social media.
And sure enough, right there under the #VigilanteLeague hashtag: “kids in Vigilante League video have GeekiCon meltdown!” And reposted on another account: “This is why you shouldn’t bring your kids to GeekiCon.” And again: “Nerd throws a tantrum over Vigilante League stunt.” Great.
Just great.
At least Cat had stopped the privacy snatchers before they’d gotten anything else. And the distraction had served to snap Alex out of his sneaky itch spiral. That was good. Probably.
Alex reported the video (they were kids being filmed without permission—definitely against the rules) before locking his phone and tucking it into his pocket, determined to forget about the trolls online. It wouldn’t last; the video had to get taken down. He reached out and grabbed one of Cat’s hands, pulling her to the side of the aisle.
“Hey. Thank you for stopping that,” Alex said, looking his sister in the eye.
“No problem.” Cat shook his appreciation off like what she’d done really was nothing, when Alex knew he could never have done as much. “Listen,” Cat added hesitantly. “Maybe I should have asked you before jumping into that. Maybe we could have prepared them with lyric sheets or something. I didn’t even think about it and I’m sorry.”
Alex looked down at the floor. “Thanks, Cat. I’m sorry I … lost control.”
“Hey,” Cat said strongly, shaking her brother through their still-clasped hands. “No. Don’t say stuff like that. The Quest is stressful and GeekiCon is a lot. We’re having an adventure. I still have our Hall M passes. And we’re definitely and absolutely totally going to get through this. Okay?”
“Yeah.” Alex looked up and smiled. He felt more determined than ever to prove to the entire world that they could do this. “And we’re going to win.”
9. Convince three Vigilante League cosplayers to sing “Eye of the Tiger” with
you. (37 points)
9
Fi
“Nerd throws a tantrum over Vigilante League stunt!” Okay, first of all, Fi thought as she tried her best to rush through the crush of smelly, sweaty bodies, only I get to call my brother a nerd. Though Fi was pretty riled up over the blatant invasion of privacy her younger siblings had just been involved in, one sort of good thing had come of it: As Fi had scrolled past the video of the twins singing their favorite TV show theme song in front of a large crowd (Ducky McFowl, obviously) and had found the “meltdown” video (moments before it was wiped from the internet after a storm of enraged parents demanded it), she’d noticed something. Right over the twins’ heads in the video of their argument (of course they would even manage to embarrass her online) was a giant inflatable sheep. Fi had seen that sheep hanging in the air over the convention floor, and she was zooming back toward it as fast as she could.
Well, like, way slower than she could, frankly. Yes, she’d made varsity soccer, and she was only in the ninth grade. But she could only go as fast as this con would let her.
For every slow walker she swerved around and every impromptu photo shoot she narrowly avoided ruining, Fi reminded herself of why she was doing this. Dodge an elbow—Ethan might notice me. Avoid collision with a gigantic backpack—on the for-sure chaperoned camping trip. Shove through another long line—which Mom and Dad will let me go on.
And suddenly, like a beacon of hope, there was the inflatable sheep, in the not-too-distant distance. It was just a few more aisles ahead. Fi kept her eyes on the sheep as she surged forward. The twins were there and so was her future. Just two more aisles to go. Just one—
Wham. Fi had made the worst mistake you can make at GeekiCon—she’d stopped watching the crowd directly in front of her and had slammed into another attendee. Fi’d been moving so fast that the collision landed her straight on her butt.
“Watch where you’re going—” said the stranger.
“Oh, I’m so sorry—” started Fi.
Both Fi and the person she’d smacked into started talking at the same time. Fi stopped mid-accusation while rubbing her head when she saw a hand with rainbow-painted nails outstretched in front of her. Fi followed the line of the hand up its arm, past the bright-blue printed shirt, to land on the face of its owner. A face with heavy eyeliner and bright-orange lips topped off with a shock of purple hair. A face Fi recognized.
Rowan Reyes. Fi was shocked to see she’d actually run into someone she actually knew.
Mortifying.
Completely horrifying.
If Rowan told anyone at their school that she’d seen Fi here this weekend—
But then, Fi remembered, nobody going on the totally chaperoned camping trip even knew Rowan. She was their class loner, always wearing stuff like boys’ suits from thrift shops and dyeing her hair random colors, usually skateboarding around with giant headphones on instead of talking to people. Though the hair color thing was pretty cute and the purple did suit her. Her parents were Filipino, and Fi heard she even spoke fluent Tagalog. Rowan had just started school this past year—Fi’d heard a rumor that Rowan had been in a cult before this.
And she certainly looked the part now. Rowan was wearing a denim vest over her blue button-down and a fanny pack shaped like a stuffed bear—both of which, Fi realized in abject sadness, she recognized from Star Worlds. I mean, sure, Rowan looked better in the vest than, like, 90 percent of the other costumed dorks here. But still. Would Fi never be free of this weirdness?
Well, she wasn’t going to be rude for no reason. Fi grabbed the offered hand, and Rowan helped haul Fi to her feet.
“Oh, dude,” Rowan said surprised. “Fiorella, right? From third period.”
“Fi,” she answered quickly. Nobody called her by her full name except teachers. “Yeah, third period. Rowan?”
“Yeah.” The girl smiled, yanking off her ever-present headphones and resting them around her neck. “So rad to see you here. This is the best place on Earth, isn’t it? All your people in one place. I didn’t think you were into this stuff.”
Oh no, thought Fi in a panic. “Oh, I’m definitely not,” she said, wanting to correct Rowan before the wrong word started to get around. “I’m babysitting my sister and brother. I’d never be into something like Star Worlds; I actually have friends.”
Fi realized she’d probably been unnecessarily harsh in her rush to retain the appearance of coolness. She tried so hard to be different from the rest of her family, to be cool. But Fi saw Rowan’s expression change in an instant, regardless.
“Right,” Rowan said dryly, dropping Fi’s hand like it was on fire. “At least I’m not cosplaying a Real Housewife of San Diego.”
Fi looked down at her mother’s coffee-stained leopard shirt. Suddenly she wasn’t so sorry for being harsh. “This is my mom’s shirt, actually, and even if she does have terrible Slovakian style, she’s still kind of nerd famous!” Take that, nerd.
“Riiiight,” Rowan said, the sarcasm dripping off every extended syllable. Rowan started to look around Fi, searching for an easy way to join the crowd around her and move on.
“I swear,” Fi shot back, indignant. “You can Google her. She and my dad invented Ducky McFowl.”
Now that got Rowan’s attention. Her eyes snapped back to focus on Fi through her purple bangs. “No way.” Rowan got out her phone, and Fi could see her immediately opening her internet browser.
Fi smirked. “Yes way. So—” Suddenly, behind Rowan’s bent head, Fi saw the inflatable sheep hanging in the air again. They were almost directly beneath it. But … “Shoot. Shoot, shoot!”
“Dude.” Rowan was still deep in her phone. “Your mom’s Anna Gallo? She’s, like, a cult hero; I love that show; what the heck—?”
“I gotta go,” Fi said in a rush. There were no twins here. No twins to be found. No twins of any kind anywhere in any sort of proximity to here. Fi was still totally screwed. And she’d gotten so distracted and forgotten …
“Wait, where?” Rowan asked, tucking her phone into her vest pocket.
Fi groaned. She didn’t have time for this. “I told you, I’m babysitting two monstrous nerds, and I can’t find them anywhere, and my parents are going to kill me, and if I’m dead they’re never going to let me go to Kumeyaay Lake—”
Rowan snorted. It was totally gross and not even a little bit cute. “You’re going to that? I heard it isn’t even going to be chaperoned—”
“Yes, it is!” Fi snapped back while unlocking her phone. Back to desperately combing social media.
“You need to chill—”
Fi kept frantically scrolling through her feed and groaned. “Why are they on this ridiculous quest—?”
“Quest?” Rowan repeated. “Look here.” Rowan grabbed Fi’s chin between two of her fingers and lifted her face away from her phone. Fi’s heart beat a little faster, and her neck felt hot where Rowan’s thumb rested. Fi jerked her chin out from between Rowan’s fingers. She barely even knew this girl. Why was she acting like they were anywhere near friendly enough to touch like that? “I’ll help you find your sister and brother, and in return you can introduce me to your super-cool mom. Okay? I wanna work in animation one day.”
Fi paused for a second. She stared into Rowan’s dorky but totally earnest face. The sooner she found the twins, Fi reasoned, the sooner she could leave this place and get back to planning her trip. And Rowan did seem to know her way around the con …
“Okay.” Fi nodded as Rowan’s hand dropped away. “You help me, I’ll help you, and this day can end. And I can get back to Ethan.”
“You got it, Leoparda,” Rowan cracked. “Who’s Ethan?”
“Who’s Leoparda?” Cat countered.
“She was on this cartoon in the eighties—” Rowan stopped herself. “It doesn’t matter. Give me your phone; let’s get looking.”
21. How many people can you get to sing your favorite TV show theme song at once? (39 points)
10
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Cat
If there was such a thing as a torture chamber in the middle of GeekiCon, this would have been it. Cat and her brother were hanging out at the LEGO pit. Alex knelt next to it, but Cat was knee-deep in the tiny little bricks, laying low for the time being. Her brother was happier than she’d probably ever seen him in their entire lives—she could have disappeared and he wouldn’t have noticed for hours, for sure. Alex loooooved LEGOs. But every time Cat took a step in the LEGO pit, at least three of the little bricks got wedged into her hand-decorated shoes, and under her feet, and oh my gosh, it hurt so much.
“Cat!” Alex yelled over the din of the crowd and of clinking LEGOs. “Check it out!”
Cat looked over. They’d been hiding out in the pit, trying to avoid attention from James M. and from Fi and from their parents and from Team Dangermaker and from online trolls … There was a lot going on. Still, Cat smiled when she saw that Alex had come across someone making a life-sized replica of the Wormhole device.
“Now—ow!—that’s pretty—ouch, shoot—cool!” Cat said, her words punctuated by LEGO pain as she shuffled gingerly over to her brother.
“I know,” said Alex, still staring at the guy’s sculpture in progress. “Look at the way his pattern with the orange bricks is so detailed and realistic—”
Cat wasn’t really listening—she yanked her phone out of her purse and was opening the Quest app again to scroll through their remaining items.
“We still have a lot left,” she interrupted Alex mid-thought. “We gotta get going.”
“In a minute.” Alex waved Cat off, still focused on the LEGOs.
“Or now?” Cat urged him. Didn’t he realize they had a ton more Quest items to get through? Cat was getting more and more hyped up the longer she looked at the list. They had a long way to go before the end of the day, and some of these items were hard. Like ridiculously, epically hard. The longer they waited, the worse things were going to get! Cat could feel their potential future win slipping through her fingers—right into Team Dangermaker’s lap!