But why question a good thing, right?
Of course, Kat’s suspicions swirled around in my mind as well. Did FallenOne like me?
I had to admit…I kind of liked him.
*FallenOne tells you, I’ve been thinking about that secret quest thingy you were talking about a few weeks ago. It’s a cool idea.
*You tell FallenOne, They could be already working on something like that. I wouldn’t be surprised.
Him: Neither would I.
Me: Yeah, when these geeky dudes aren’t totally obsessing about women’s bodies, they are pretty smart.
Him: So you think all us geeky types just obsess over women?
Me: Am I wrong?
Him: How is that different than any other guy, though?
Me: Good point. Probably not different. Unless you’re Heath.
***
It only took two more study sessions for Jon to ask me out. It was simply for coffee afterward and “just to get some extra study time in.” Also, it had been after we’d been randomly—or so I’d hoped—paired up during the second session to quiz each other, and he’d deliberately sat next to me in the third.
I hated having to shoot someone down. Especially someone as nice as Jon. And deep down, I asked myself, would it really be that unpleasant if I did go out to coffee with him?
But coffee would lead to drinks. And drinks might lead to going out to a club or dancing or whatever normal people my age did. And then that might lead to “swing by my place afterward.” And then…and then. That was the part that always brought me to a halt.
“I’m sorry. I’m super busy. Meeting a friend in an hour.”
“Okay...” He drew that out, expecting me, perhaps, to fill in the knowledge gap. When I wasn’t forthcoming, he changed tactics. “Oh. I guess I should have asked if you had a boyfriend.”
“I don’t…” His expression visibly brightened. Maybe I should have lied instead? “But, I’m very serious about my studies. I’m on a scholarship, which requires perfect grades. I don’t do much of anything, including dating.”
His eyebrows rose. “Oh. Are you religious?” It was a fair question. Chapman University was a church-related school, after all, and there were quite a few people who attended it based on that affiliation. But not me. I attended based on the nice, fat, full-ride scholarship they’d offered me when I finished high school.
Again, I could have lied about that, but chose not to. “Not particularly, no. It’s just a personal choice.”
Jon blinked, confused, and I gathered my things, ready to shake him off. He followed as I rushed out the door of the library as if I had places to go, things to do, people to see. I did have a lot to do that day—okay, maybe not a lot, but there was a project to finish and laundry to squeeze in there somewhere.
I guess ‘personal choice’ was not an acceptable excuse, because Jon made a good-natured remark about “wearing me down.” I, just as good-naturedly, joked that there were several eligible members of our group—Smiley McDimples, for one—who had seemed interested in him.
Jon was not dissuaded, if the determined look in his eyes was any indication.
Nevertheless, I was able to deter him and continue about my day. Unfortunately, my evening would, in a sense, prove to be more of the same.
While gaming with my friends, I took breaks to run down and change clothes from the washer to the dryer. Proof I wasn’t lying!
Tonight, it was FallenOne’s turn, so we worked on his epic weapon quest, the Staff of Mighty Power. For one of the components, we needed a very special feather from a very rare creature. The Surperfluous Flamingo spawned in the Lost Lagoon. But we had to hack through hordes of hostile hippos, rabid gators, and aggro ostriches by the thousands, killing placeholders over and over again in order to get it to spawn. It took hours.
Long, boring hours. To the point where we were starting to break out the caffeinated drinks and get a little punchy, making jokes and laughing at every little thing.
Fallen had long since offered to give up, but we wouldn’t allow it. We were the stubbornest bunch of ornery mofos on the server, and we weren’t going to give in.
We were going to snatch that rare feather off that fucking flamingo if it was the last thing we did!
It was a hot night in late September, the worst month for heat in Southern California. My studio apartment—as fortuitous a find as it was—lacked air conditioning, and thus I had to rely on box fans in the windows for some relief. It did very little beyond blowing hot air all over me.
Of course, open windows meant I had a direct line to the screeching and howling of my neighbors, who enjoyed loud, raucous sex at any temperature. Warm, cold, hot, dry. Rain or shine. Those two screwed like dogs in perpetual heat.
“God dammit. The neighbors are going at it again,” I finally said after the fourth “Oh God!” in a row.
Kat sighed heavily. “I wish I was having sex right now. I’m jealous.”
“Who doesn’t?” replied Heath.
“That doesn’t mean I’d rather hear my neighbors going on and on about it. Damn. Someone needs to introduce them to online gaming or something.”
“Yeah, because camping a rare spawn is so much more fun than orgasms,” replied Heath.
“Maybe we should do something to pass the time while we do this shitty camp. Obviously not as fun as what Mia’s neighbors are doing…but how about a game? Truth or dare, anyone?” asked Persephone.
“What the hell are you going to dare us to do? Streak through the swamp with no armor on? Can I get a ‘hell no’?” Heath replied.
“Ah, c’mon,” Kat whined. “I’ll go first. What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex? Truth, you have to answer. Dare, you have to fight the next mob solo with no weapon while we all stand back and laugh at you.”
“That’s an easy one,” Heath replied. “Under the bleachers at my high school during a basketball game.”
“What?” I gasped. “Heath? Not even.”
He laughed. “It is, indeed, true.”
I scoffed. “With who?”
“Ah, ah, ah! No cheating,” Kat admonished. “It’s not your turn to ask. Fallen, how do you choose? Answer the question, or do you drop your nunchakus and solo the mob with your fists?”
As usual, Fallen responded via text only. But since he typed so fast, it was easy for him to keep up with us.
Oh, hell. Why not? Truth. Mine is from high school, too. I worked at my uncle’s office my junior year and got propositioned by this chick who also worked there. We did it on the conference table after-hours when no one else was around.
“Oh dayum!” Heath roared, laughing. “Yours is better than mine.”
Hell no, there wasn’t a crowd around for mine! Fallen shot back.
“No, but I bet that made the next conference meeting…interesting. Especially with your uncle sitting there.”
Nope, I just moved boxes around and took care of mail at that job. I never had to sit at in at conference meetings. *She had to, though, so I assume it was awkward for her LOL.
“Huh. Well, I’m sure there was a lot of poking and prodding during those special conference meetings,” Kat said.
Just that one time there, anyway. We got more conventional later on.
Once our teasing died down, Katya spoke again. “Okay, Mia. Spill… or are you soloing with no magic?”
“No magic?! Wait!” I panicked, suddenly having to rearrange my plan, which had been to choose “dare” and burn the mob down with my biggest one-thumper of a nuke spell. I’d been saving it, because the refresh time on the spell made it so I could only cast it once every twenty minutes. “You said no weapon. I won’t use my wand.”
“Magic is your weapon. So given these mobs spawning, I’m going to say that squishy little you will last one, maybe two hits before you go down.”
“Just spill the goods, Mia,” Heath said.
*Fragged tells you, It’s not like you really have a lot to tell, anyway, right?
&nbs
p; *You tell Fragged, Thanks for your support, champ. I’ll remember this.
I also remembered that I didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. “Fine, then. Truth. I don’t have a weird place.”
“So you’ve only ever done it in a bed?” Kat asked, disbelief in her voice.
“I’ve never done it at all,” I replied, folding my arms over my chest, though I knew they couldn’t see me.
FallenOne commented, Wait, what?
“No way,” Kat said. “I don’t believe you.”
“Heath can verify. I don’t date. I don’t hook up...”
“Are you religious?” Kat asked. Wow…second time today that question had been asked.
“Nope. Just haven’t had the desire.” That wasn’t exactly true. I’d just had a bad experience...one I had no desire to talk about. So, I let that stand.
“I can verify,” Heath interjected. “She’s a virgin...as far as I know. I mean, we’ve been friends since we were thirteen and all. On the other hand, she had no idea about my escapade at the basketball game—which I think she even attended. So take my verification for what it’s worth. Though I stand as witness to the fact that she doesn’t date.”
And yet you make fun of all the nerdy game designers who you say can’t get any? Fallen asked.
“There’s a difference between wanting it and not getting it, and not wanting it in the first place. But mostly, that’s all joking on my part. It’s just me being grouchy about all the female skin they think it’s necessary to show.”
Kat asked, “Are you a prude, Mia? Or are you just saving yourself for marriage?”
I sat back with a sigh. Those labels again. Why did there always have to be labels for a woman’s sexual status? Prude. Tease. Slut. They reflected an entire spectrum that described levels of access to a female’s body by any given man.
“’Prude’ is a rude word to use. And I don’t plan on getting married, so that eliminates my saving myself for something that will never happen. But why try to label me based on my sexual status? Why do there always have to be labels instead of respecting personal choices?”
There was a pause, and I could tell that they were all thinking about what I’d said. Finally, Kat cleared her throat. “Yeah, you’re right. ‘Prude’ is as bad as ‘slut.’ I didn’t mean it in a mean way, and I’m sorry. Maybe you can reclaim it and make it yours. Like…I know I’m a slut and I’m not ashamed of it.”
“Maybe, but prude has such a negative connotation. Like if you don’t have sex, you must not like it. How do I know if I like it or not? I’ve never had it!”
Good point, agreed FallenOne.
“So maybe I’ll pick a new label for myself. I’m ‘cheerfully celibate.’”
“There’s a lot to be said for choosing not to get wrapped up in all the baggage that sex can bring,” Kat said, her voice much more serious now. “I was way too young when I started.”
“Me, too,” Heath concurred.
I shook my head. “Seriously, when was all this happening? I had no idea.”
Heath’s dry laugh sounded in my headset. “When you’re a gay teen, you get to be an expert at keeping secrets—at least until you come out of the closet. Then you’re ready to trumpet it to the world!”
“And march naked in gay pride parades?” asked Kat.
Heath laughed. “Or just sit by the sidelines and thoroughly enjoy them!”
“Well, now you all know my sordid secret,” I said.
Nothing sordid or shameful about it. Actually, it’s pretty awesome. Good for you, Mia, FallenOne pitched in.
I smiled and then breathed a sigh of relief. I no longer regretted my candor. Not a single “you don’t know what you’re missing,” like I’d expected. Well…good.
So I was still a virgin… so what? Maybe I’d die an old lady virgin, or maybe I’d try it out once to see what all the fuss was about. But whatever I decided, the decision was mine.
Chapter 9: Aim to Misbehave
In spite of my vanishing spare time, I made an effort to get home to see Mom at least once every two weeks—even if only part of a day. Sometimes my work schedule wasn’t cooperative, though. More than once I traded for a graveyard shift on a Thursday night, went straight to morning class on Friday and then caught a catnap for a few hours before hitting the road.
Since Mom lived in a remote area that was not accessible by train or bus, driving was the only option. I still managed to get some studying in though, even during the drive. A person in my study group turned me on to a free MCAT strategy podcast, and I listened as I drove to absorb more tips on how to pass that damn test.
On a gorgeous Saturday morning, we drove to the Idyllwild farmers market to buy produce. Mom wanted to show me how to make the old family baklava recipe, determined that only the best ingredients would do.
I couldn’t bring myself to ask if this was some kind of frantic handing down of inherited knowledge. Her mom had taught her how to make this same dessert, so I tried to look at this like a natural rite of passage as the next female in line. But my hands shook as I minced the walnuts and pistachios according to her directions. Would this be her last chance to show me? What if she didn’t get better?
“You need to stop throwing me those looks. I’m starting to get self-conscious,” she said without looking at me.
Guiltily, I returned my attention to the chopping board. “What looks? Don’t know what you’re talking about. You look great.”
She gave me a thin smile. “I do look great, if I do say so myself. And I think I could have pulled one over on you… maybe even never told you what was going on. I think a nasty flu would have explained a few bad days, and you would have been none the wiser.”
I frowned and carefully set down my knife. “What do you mean ‘pull one over’ on me? You mean, not tell me that you were sick?”
She shrugged. “I could have waited ‘til I was all better to spill the beans. I don’t like how you’ve been worrying. How you’ve been breaking your back to come home as often as you have. Though… gotta say I love seeing you so much.”
I made a face at her. “As if you could have hidden that from me.”
She bit her bottom lip and an expression clouded her eyes—something a bit like…guilt? Was there something she wasn’t telling me? Faint suspicions I’d been harboring all weekend were on high alert. “You are all right, aren’t you? The doctor says you’re getting better?”
Her bottom lip escaped her teeth, and she moved closer to me, cupping my cheek with her hand. “I am. I promise. You know as much as I do.”
I let out a sigh as she pointed to the chopping board. “That has to be a lot finer if you want the baklava to turn out half decent.”
Grumbling, I picked up the knife and returned to my task, trying very hard not to dart any more concerned glances her way.
This continued until it was time to leave on Sunday afternoon. On my way out, I cast a cursory glance at my mom’s desk as I landed a kiss on her papery cheek. Mom had taken to wearing scarves—to hide her bald head—underneath her straw cowboy hat, paired with big sunglasses. A look somewhere between a faded Hollywood starlet and a well-worn cowgirl.
During my drive home, however, that niggling suspicion finally hit me over the head like a baseball bat. On Mom’s desk, I’d seen multiple bills stacked up—unopened. I knew they were bills because they had the little window envelopes; plus, she immediately shredded junk mail when she received it. If she’d kept and stacked those envelopes, they were important.
I made a mental note to broach the subject with her during our next phone call. She had temporarily shut down the B&B to deal with her health crisis. And I’d been glad of that, as it eased her work burden while she healed. But with no money coming in…how was she paying her regular bills, and on top of that, her medical bills?
These concerns combined with others…I worried about her, all alone up there. I was her only backup at this point. I had to keep an eye out for her.
As I conti
nued to drive, my mind drifted toward the week ahead, a weary exhaustion engulfing me with the thought of beginning the vicious cycle once more. More days of classes, homework, meticulous medical research, working the hospital job, studying for the MCAT retake….
I felt like I was on a neverending hamster wheel, and slowly but surely, it was grinding me down.
I looked forward, with everything that was in me, to our weekly gaming night. Thank God for my online friends.
But even immersion in my favorite game with some of my favorite people was not enough to tear me fully away from all the worries.
Case in point, we were fighting in a huge frozen cavern full of Ice Giants. They’d stomp and drop boulders on us while we chopped at their ankles and slowly brought them down. I usually loved fighting giants because I could use my magic to charm them to fight for me. If the spell worked, a giant under my control would turn on his fellow giants and act as my pet gigantic assassin. For me, fighting giants was a treat.
This time it wasn’t. Usually I could keep three busy by mesmerizing one and charming another to fight the third while my group members attacked the fourth without impediment.
Except I screwed up the order I was supposed to do things, and the giant I was trying to charm instead started to pound me into goo. Once I was no longer keeping the three extraneous giants occupied, they turned on my party members, making guacamole out of them as well.
Such was life. We wiped.
And subsequently, we reappeared as ghosts at our bind point.
Through my headset, I could hear Heath furiously clicking on his keyboard—as if sending messages to the others that he didn’t want me to see. “Guys, this is our third wipe in the Mammoth Ice Caverns. I’m not feeling it tonight. Want to go do something a little easier? We can get back to this next week.”
“Sounds good to me,” agreed Kat without any argument whatsoever. No acknowledgement of my mistakes. No reprimand. I loved my friends.
*FallenOne tells you, You’ve been quiet lately.
Girl Geek: A Gaming The System Prequel Page 9