Gauntlet

by Holly Jennings

  “You’re being too hard on yourself. You’re going to make mistakes. It’s learning from them that matters. Life’s not black-and-white.”

  I sat down on his bed and dropped my head into my hands. There was no way this was really happening. It must have been a dream, or a simulation, like the game. Come on, Tamachi himself had brought me into that meeting with the VGL . . .

  “Holy shit,” I gasped, rising from the bed. “That’s why Tamachi brought me with him to the VGL. It wasn’t for my opinion on the game. It was to show them he’d roped me into this.” I started pacing around his room and smacked the side of my head with my open palm. “I’m so stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid.”

  His words were distant as all my senses filled with rage. How could they do this to my team? Were they really more worried about money and ratings than us? I punched the wall, hit a stud, and cried out when the jolt of pain shot up my forearm.

  “Fucking stud.” I punched the wall again with my other hand. “See? I can’t even punch the wall right.”

  Rooke grabbed my wrists. “Stop.”

  “I’ll hurt myself if I want to.”

  “No. I won’t let you.”

  My temper flared, and I reeled.

  “You won’t let me?” I roared.

  In a blink, he spun me around, locked his arms over mine, and crushed my back against his chest. I struggled against him, locked in his vise grip. After a minute of failed escape attempts, I glared up at him, breathing hard.

  “I’m so close to punching you in the dick.”

  He glanced down at my pinned upper half and chuckled. “I can see that.”

  I squirmed against him, snarling. “I swear to God, I hope you’re wearing a cup.”

  He gripped me tighter. “Drop the bullshit, Kali. If it was reversed, you wouldn’t let me do this, either.”

  I snorted at him and ignored the fact that he was probably right.

  He pulled me toward his bathroom. I kicked my legs.

  “Let me go.”

  “Break my arms.”

  I went rag-doll limp against him like a three-year-old child, dragging my feet as he dragged me. He cursed my name under his breath, but kept going. He pulled me through the bathroom and into the shower, turned it on, and held me under the stream. Water cascaded down. He kept me there, under the water, his front pressed against my back.

  My hair plastered against my face, my clothes against my skin. The stream flowed over me and down the drain, and my emotions went with it. I turned to jelly in his arms and slumped against him. Water seeped into my eyes and back out. I stood there with him, listening to the raindrop prickling of the stream hitting the tile.

  I knew what he was doing, holding me under the water like this. He was pulling me into the present moment, reminding me that nothing can stop the flow of water. It doesn’t resist. It doesn’t protest. It just glides around whatever is in its path and continues on its way.

  “This doesn’t fix anything,” I said. My voice sounded tired and defeated.

  “Nothing’s really broken.”

  With his chest pressed so tightly against my back, his voice sounded as if it was reverberating straight through me.

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “You said yourself that things need to get better in the industry and that I’m the one to bring it about. Every time I try, it slaps me in the face.”

  “The industry is broken. You’re not. You’re perfect. Just being yourself is more than enough. The VGL knows that. Why do you think they’re trying so hard to stop you? They wouldn’t do this if you didn’t pose a threat to them. They’re afraid of you.”

  “They’re afraid of the truth. Not me. I’m one person, and I’m not enough.”

  “You’re enough the moment you realize you’re already enough. You’re strong enough and skilled enough to deal with this.”

  “I can’t. It’s too big.”

  “The whole is too big. Just work at it one piece at a time. Change one person. One team. One tournament.” He took a breath deep enough that his chest expanded against my back. “How do you build a wall?”

  I thought it over.

  “Program a drone to do it for you.”

  He sighed, and his arm tightened around my waist.

  “No.” His voice was stern. “How do you build a wall?”

  Now it was my turn to sigh.

  “One brick at a time.”

  I turned to face him. The front of his clothes were spotted with water, and some of his hair was damp from the shower. He’d never gone completely under the stream but had gotten some backsplash from holding me there. He looked like he’d been standing on a curb’s edge and had a puddle sprayed up on him from a passing cab.

  “Don’t try to be anything more than yourself,” he said, taking my face in his hands. “Just be Kali Ling. That’s all you can be. And really, that’s all you need.”

  I let out a breath that came from deep within and left me feeling a little more fulfilled on the inside. Not completely better, but a little closer to center than I had been.

  Rooke rested his hands on my shoulders and looked over my expression.

  “Better?” he asked.

  Mostly. The VGL could do whatever they wanted to me. I’d still have the things that mattered. I had my team—my friends—and the determination to make things the best for them. Rooke had always been something more than a friend, though. He’d been everything from a confidant to a pain in the ass, and usually exactly what I needed in my life. And I was finally ready for it to be something more again.

  I met his gaze.

  “Yes, but we have another problem.”

  “What?”

  “Your clothes are all wet.”

  His jaw set, and his eyes darkened. His expression went from serious and concerned to something far more primal. I knew that look, and I liked it.

  I gripped his shirt and tugged him farther into the shower.

  “Oops. Now they’re more.”

  My hand trailed down his shirt, flicking buttons open, one after the other. He watched my eyes the entire time. I spread his shirt wide as the water slipped down, flowing through the recesses in his chest and stomach. I pressed my lips to his chest, tasting skin and water, inhaling the scent of him.

  I pulled my own shirt off and pressed against him, until we were skin to skin and nothing else. He grabbed my chin and tilted my head up until our eyes met. I gave him one look, of ferocity and need. One look was all he needed.

  He swept me into his arms and slammed me against the shower wall. A moan escaped my mouth as my back hit and my legs instinctively wrapped around him. He ravished my neck as he pinned me there. More clothes came off, some sticking, too heavy and slick from the water. It fueled us. Made us desperate for each other.

  Things got rough.

  He took me there, pinned against the wall, under the shower’s stream. He pressed into me, deeper every time. Our lips brushed together, whispering things between gasps. We shared everything. How good it felt, how much we needed each other, why we were so stupid sometimes to deny that what we had could be beautiful.

  When we’d finished, both shaking and sated, clinging to each other as the water poured down over us, he kissed my forehead and murmured against my skin.

  “See? Water really does make things better.”

  CHAPTER 18

  “The VGL is trying to kick us out.”

  I met with everyone in the training room, including Dr. Renner. Everyone stared at me, blinking, like they couldn’t quite process my words. Rooke stood behind everyone else, leaning against the wall. Since he already knew what was going on, he was the only person in the room unsurprised by the news.

  “Someone forwarded me a string of e-mails,” I continued. “All the harassment by the media, everything
we’ve faced inside the games, it’s all specifically designed to knock us out of the tournament and ruin our reputation as a team.”

  Everyone exchanged looks with each other. Derek looked a little more certain than the others, given he’d already suspected something was going on with the pods. The girls weren’t entirely buying it.

  “You really think they’re targeting just us?” Hannah asked. “I mean, the paparazzi has had a field day with us, but that’s what they do.”

  “Lily saw the machine from her childhood nightmares inside the game,” I pointed out. “That’s awfully specific. Plus, Rooke faced his own death.”

  Everyone looked at Lily and Rooke. They both nodded.

  Hannah turned back to me. “But why would they try to kick us out?”

  I cleared my throat. “Apparently, I cost them a lot of money.”

  Dr. Renner took a step forward to address the group. “It’s like the football-concussion controversy at the turn of the century. Ever since Kali spoke out, research into virtual reality and addiction has tripled. Most studies have shown that the pods and programs the VGL was using were detrimental to psychological health. Suddenly, the VGL has to explain why ratings and money have been more important than the players’ safety. They’re scrambling, and they’re trying to punish her for it.”

  I knew Dr. Renner was saying that for the rest of the team, but her words hit home. I sat down on the mats and hugged my knees to my chest. This was all happening because of me. The rest of the team didn’t deserve it, didn’t ask for it, and now their careers and reputations were being destroyed simply because of my actions.

  I hugged myself tighter, feeling the tears sneaking up.

  Hannah knelt in front of me.

  “Kali,” she said softly, stroking my arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “I fucked up for you guys. I never thought when I spoke out that it would affect the rest of you this much. I was trying to do what was right for Nathan. But this isn’t just about me and what I think is right. These are your careers, your dreams, and I’m ruining them.”

  She smiled. “You’re not ruining—”

  “Yes, I am. It’s not just me who’s being punished. It’s the team. What they do to you guys, they do to me. They hurt any of you, and it hurts me.” I buried my face in my knees. “I know I screw up a lot, and it must not seem like it sometimes, but you guys are more important to me than anything. And now to think that they’re screwing over all of you because of something I did—”

  My voice caught against the growing lump in my throat. Hannah wrapped her arms around me. I lifted my head to meet her eyes, and she rested her forehead against mine.

  “It’s not just you they’re going up against. It’s all of us.”

  I sniffled, rubbed my nose, and pushed back the tears. “So, what do we do? How do we take on something as big as this?”

  She smiled again.

  “Simple. We win anyway.”

  I laughed. It would be the solution to everything. Our sponsors would be ecstatic, if we’d even need them anymore. We’d have our choice. With that hundred-million grand prize, we’d never be reliant on anyone else again to keep us afloat. And there was a chance that a victory that sweet might win back the hearts of the crowd.

  Hannah offered her hand. I took it and pushed up to my feet.

  “Dr. Renner, I’m asking you to work with each of us individually to uncover our fears and how to face them.” In the corner, Dr. Renner nodded in agreement. “Hopefully, it’ll help us get through the rest of the matches.”

  Derek stepped forward and crossed his arms. “But that’s only half the problem. If their plan was to break our reputation through the media, they’ve done it. We’re the most hated team in the league right now.”

  “That’s true,” Hannah said, turning to me. “What do you want me to do about that? I don’t think designer clothes and showing skin are going to change people’s opinions about us.”

  I had no idea what to do at this point. Celebrities facing scandals and controversies was nothing new, and oftentimes, they rebounded and came back even stronger than before. But this was different. I had entire corporations working against me, controlling the media and what was printed about us. Anything we did could be twisted, misconstrued, and made ten times worse.

  “I think it’s best if we try to stay out of the spotlight as much as possible. It won’t fix anything, but it won’t give them any new fodder, either.”

  Derek didn’t look sure. “That’s not really enough—”

  “It’s all we can do for now.” I sighed. “Let me think about it, okay?”

  Reluctantly, they all agreed.

  Later that day, I met with Dr. Renner. While sessions with the doc were never a bad idea, I’d mostly been thinking about the team’s opening up about what scared them. But as I sat down across from her for my own session, I realized I would be opening up as well, and I wasn’t sure there was much to tell.

  “So, can you tell me what you fear most, Kali?” Dr. Renner asked, as she made a few notes on her tablet.

  I stared down at my feet. “I . . . don’t know. I’m afraid of losing the tournament and not being able to fund the team.”

  She nodded. “Okay, anything else?”

  “Letting down my friends?” I tried.

  “That’s not really what I’m looking for. It has to be things that can actually manifest in a virtual world. Otherwise, how will they use it against you?” She tapped a fingernail against her tablet a few times. “How about childhood fears?”

  “Nope. My dad says I used to ask him to check the closet for monsters, so I could have something to wrestle.”

  My answer was rewarded with a rare burst of laughter from Dr. Renner.

  “How do you treat fears?” I asked.

  “Usually through desensitization.” She smiled. “Ironically, most therapists use virtual reality to help people conquer a phobia. If someone is terrified of heights, for example, it’s much easier for them to stand on top of a building when they know it’s not real. After enough sessions, the patient gains confidence, and it transfers over well to the real world.”

  Dr. Renner studied me for a minute and adjusted her glasses.

  “You really love your team,” she said. “I think more than you even realize.”

  My heart swelled at the thought. “Of course. I mean, we live together. Train together. Our lives and careers are so interconnected, if we didn’t love each other, this wouldn’t really work.”

  “And you’d do anything not to see them hurt.”

  “Well, of course not—”

  My voice cut off in my throat even though my mouth dropped open. The hair stood up on the back of my neck.

  “You think I’m going to see them hurt inside the game,” I concluded.

  Dr. Renner pressed her lips together. “I think it’s a possibility.”

  The air in my lungs went tight. “I can’t. I can’t deal with that.”

  Dr. Renner made a calming motion with her hand. “You see them hurt inside the game all the time. You fight to the death right beside them. That’s what you do every week.”

  I started pacing around in front of my chair. “This is different. If it’s about my fear, Tamachi will find a way to make it so much worse than that. You know it.”

  “Kali. Sit. Down.”

  She didn’t just say the words. She commanded it in such a fierce and uncharacteristic way, I immediately sat.

  “If you can’t calm down,” she began, “you’re letting them win. You realize that, right?”

  I took a breath and realized it, but it did nothing to quell my racing heartbeat. “What do I do?”

  Her lips curved into a smile so wide it took up half her face. “You already have the tools. You’re ahead of the rest of your teammates by miles. You meditate. You practice han
dling your emotions and letting go all the time.”

  Not with this. I hadn’t been meditating nearly as much lately, unless the nightly Baguazhang sessions with Rooke counted. Maybe they did. The deep concentration required by the art was close enough.

  “How’s it going with the rest of the team?” I asked. She gave me a stern look. “I know you can’t tell me about their actual sessions, but how are they doing with talking about their fears?”

  She nodded. “Well, actually. Most people aren’t very in tune with their fears. At least, not their truest ones. Most will admit that they fear spiders or heights, for example. Few will dig deeper and talk about a fear of failure or not living a full life. Issues like those can take several sessions to root out. But the team is already looking at it that way. I think it’s because of the game. It’s already on their mind, and they’re quick to put their fears out there, so they can figure out how to win.”

  I had to grin. “That sounds like my team.”

  “They’re approaching this with a ‘bring it on’ type of attitude. I think you’re rubbing off on them. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.”

  I chuckled. Whether it was a good thing or not, during the matchups, their fearlessness showed. After the next matchup, I sat in my office, watching highlights from the previous night on the television screen.

  Inside the game, Hannah hurried down an empty street, racing toward the enemy’s flag. The power cut out to the streetlights and lanterns surrounding her, plunging the street into darkness. Hannah gasped and ground to a halt. I could practically hear her heart beating through her armor. Darkness. This was her fear. Only the glow of her battle-axe gave any indication where she stood. Watching this as a highlight after the fact made me realize how cool this looked to the audience.