Tournament Trouble

by Sylv Chiang

  Roy looks around, then drops his voice. “Okay, but whatcha really doing?”

  I look down at the book.

  Roy flips it open to the T3 sheets. “Ohhh, no way. You little rebel.” He covers his mouth and looks around again. “How’re you going to get there if you’re under watch?”

  “I’m not sure I’m going yet.”

  “But if you were going?”

  I look across the diner. Mom’s taking an order by the windows. I whisper, “I could tell my parents I have to tutor these guys from school for a big math test. If I leave at ten, catch the 38 East bus, then transfer to the 78 North, I’d get to the tournament by ten forty-five. The Cross Ups competition is from eleven to one, so I should be back by one forty-five. Only problem is, if I make top eight, I need to stay longer.”

  “Wow, good luck.”

  “I told you, I’m not sure I’m going.”

  “Listen to yourself. There are flash mobs that happen with less planning than that. You’re going.”

  Roy has a point. My plan is pretty awesome. “Hey, don’t say anything to Mel, okay? I don’t need her ratting me out.”

  “My lips are sealed.” Roy closes the textbook and heads back to the kitchen.

  At lunch the next day, I find Devesh and Hugh in the cafeteria. I pull out my lunch—leftover meatloaf from the diner. Like always, there’s a sticky note on top of the Tupperware container with Chinese writing. I crumple it up and shove it in my jeans pocket before the guys notice.

  Hugh rips open three ketchup packets at once and squirts it over everything on his tray. Then he shovels a forkful of red goop into his mouth.

  “How the heck do you eat that crap?” Devesh asks.

  “Better than your stinky fish curry,” Hugh answers, still chewing.

  Devesh takes a forkful of fish and waves it in front of Hugh’s nose. Then he moans, “Mmmmm,” and slurps it off his fork.

  “You guys are both gross. So, what’s the plan for after school today?”

  “Let’s recap,” Hugh says. “Option one: we go to tutoring and Ty and Flash beat the crap out of us. Option two: we skip tutoring and Mr. E calls our parents.”

  “They’re not going to beat us up, Hughie. There are two of them and three of us,” Devesh says.

  Hugh rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t mean they won’t try.”

  “If we don’t show up, they’re going to think they own us,” Devesh says.

  I shake my head. “How is it that two guys who totally suck at problem solving came up with this plan?”

  We all sigh.

  I say, “What if we ask Mr. E? If we act like we care about Ty and Flash maybe he’ll be so happy we’re getting along that he’ll change his mind.”

  “Maybe.” Hugh doesn’t sound convinced. “But what if he says no? I think it’s better if we don’t go and just say we forgot.”

  “Yeah, we’ll say we didn’t hear him when he said, ‘Same bat-time, same bat-place.’” I mock Mr. Efram’s voice.

  “Okay, so we’ll bolt when the bell rings and meet at the bus stop,” Hugh says.

  “And then what? We just do whatever Ty and Flash tell us to from now on?” Devesh says.

  “Just this one time. I can’t take anyone else being mad at me today,” I say.

  “Fine.” Devesh grumbles. “What’s the plan for Saturday? Want my dad to pick you up?”

  “Yeah, thanks, dude.” Hugh smiles.

  “I mean Jaden, moron. He’s the one competing, and he actually lives near me.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “What if your dad talks to my parents?”

  “Hmm. Never thought of that. My dad does like to chat. So how’re you getting there?”

  “Probably take the bus.”

  “But you’ll still come pick me up, right?” Hugh asks. “What time will you be at my place?”

  My last class is French. Halfway through class I pack up my things and sit at the edge of my seat. At the bell I explode toward the door.

  Madame Frechette blocks the way. “Où vas-tu?”

  “Pardon?” I ask in my best French accent.

  “C’est à ton tour de lever les chaises, Monsieur Stiles.”

  “Pardon?” I look around wildly for a clue to what she might mean.

  “Put up the chairs,” a classmate whispers on her way out the door.

  I run around the class and place each chair on a desk at lightning speed. Then I call, “Au revoir,” over my shoulder and scramble down the hall. Just as I turn the last corner, I smack into something huge and fall backward onto the floor.

  I look up.

  Mr. Efram is staring down at me. “Wow! You are one enthusiastic tutor. I’m not even at the classroom yet and here you are racing to help your peers. Now that is dedication.” He offers me a hand.

  I’m in hit stun. “I . . . uh . . .” The next thing I know, I’m climbing the stairs next to my teacher in the direction of the dreaded math class.

  “Today I thought you guys could review the problem-solving steps again. I think that would be very helpful for Will and Tyrell.”

  “But, I, um . . .” My mind races, but I can’t come up with any logical reason not to follow Mr. Efram to class.

  It’s a warm day, and the upper floor feels a lot warmer than downstairs. At the end of the hall Flash and Ty lean against the wall outside the math classroom wearing their volleyball uniforms and kneepads. When they spot me next to Mr. Efram, Ty straightens up and clenches his fists. Flash sinks to the ground, eyes closed in defeat.

  I slow my pace, falling behind Mr. Efram.

  The teacher enters the classroom, but Ty and Flash wait for me. When I get to the door, Ty leans in close and whispers, “You are so dead.”

  Chapter 14

  The next forty minutes are a blur. Words like understand, strategize, attack, and reflect tumble out of my mouth, but most of what I say makes no sense because my mind is focused on all the ways Ty and Flash could hurt me. I imagine Flash ripping actual lightning bolts out of his hair and throwing them at me.

  My hand isn’t hurting much anymore, so I spend most of the time writing with my head down. Ty and Flash are silent, but they kick me hard under the table whenever Mr. Efram’s back is turned. At one point, Ty draws a hangman and labels it “J-din.” That’s one I hadn’t thought of.

  Finally, Mr. Efram walks over and asks if Ty and Flash understand the steps.

  They lie.

  “Alright, boys. Let’s call it a day.”

  Ty and Flash bolt out of the room, leaving half their stuff on the desks.

  I pack my bag super-slow. It’s warm in here. Is that why I feel like I can hardly breathe? When Mr. Efram turns off the fan by his desk, I take the hint and stand up. I look around wildly for some excuse to stay in this room. “Mr. E, can I . . . help you clean the boards?”

  “No, thanks. It’s too warm in this room. I’d like to head home. Oh, and Jaden, tell your friends they’d better have a good excuse for not being here. I don’t take this kind of behavior lightly.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m sure they have a good reason.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  I stop at the doorway, watching Mr. Efram pack up his briefcase.

  “Is there something you want to say, Jaden?”

  They’re going to kill me now. I swallow. “No, sir.” I head out of the classroom.

  I’m pretty sure Ty and Flash turned right and took the usual route to the main entrance. I turn left and duck into the boys’ bathroom. Maybe if I stay here long enough they’ll give up waiting for me and go home. I lock myself in the last stall and lean against the wall. It takes me a second to realize the tapping sound I hear is coming from my own thumbs. Too bad there’s no cheat I can input to get me out of this situation.

  The bathroom door opens slowly. Through the crack in
the stall door I can just make out two forms coming in. I quietly climb up onto the toilet seat and hold my breath, but I’m sure they can hear the sound of my pounding heart.

  “Jaden?” a voice whispers.

  “It’s us.” I recognize Hugh’s voice, despite the whisper.

  I exhale, climb down from the toilet, and open the stall door with shaky hands.

  “What the hell happened?” Devesh asks.

  As quickly as possible, I tell them the story.

  “We knew something was wrong when you didn’t show.” Hugh whispers like he’s on a spy mission. “We came back to look and saw you in Mr. E’s class, so we waited around the corner.”

  “Did they go home?” I ask.

  Just then, the bathroom door bangs open, answering my question.

  “Well, well, look who’s here: the traitor and his little friends.” Ty crosses the room in two giant steps. “We missed our game because of you, loser.” Ty is up in my face.

  “No, you missed your game because you’re failing math, loser.” Devesh pushes Ty away from me.

  “Oh, so you want to fight?” Ty looks at Devesh.

  “Let’s see what video game moves these guys have,” Flash says.

  “Wait, guys, listen, you don’t understand.” I talk as fast as my thumbs tap. “I wasn’t going to come today. Mr. E saw me on the way out of school and forced me.” I put my arms up like I’m surrendering and start to maneuver myself around Ty and Flash. “Sorry you missed your game. We’re leaving.” My back is to the door now, and I start to back toward it.

  “I don’t think so.” Ty follows me. “We missed our game and now you’re gonna pay.” He raises his arm to throw a punch, but Hugh’s scream distracts him. Devesh grabs Ty from behind, pinning his arms to his side.

  When he sees what Devesh has done to Ty, Hugh tries to grab Flash in the same hold. Flash pushes him off with ease and lunges at Hugh. With another scream, Hugh runs toward a stall, stumbles, and lands on the floor. Flash trips over Hugh, goes head first into the stall, and thunks his head against the toilet.

  Hugh scrambles to his feet and pulls the door shut. “I got him,” he yells, both arms outstretched, pulling the stall door closed.

  I refocus on the target in front of me.

  “Hit him, J.” Devesh is fighting to keep hold of his struggling captive.

  He was going to do it to me. Why not? A million possible moves from Cross Ups run through my head.

  “Think of all the times they copied off us,” Hugh calls.

  “Yeah, and all the dissing, man. Just hit him.” Devesh’s grip loosens as Ty writhes in his arms.

  All of the week’s frustrations pour into my head. I pull back my arm. Then my mom’s words flash into my head. Do you want to turn out like my brother?

  I drop my fist. “I’m not gonna fight.”

  “Well, that’s good news.” The voice comes from behind me. I turn to see Mr. Efram at the door. “What’s going on in here?”

  It’s almost six o’clock by the time I get to the diner. Mom rushes over even though there’s a line of customers waiting for tables.

  “Er zi, where have you been?”

  “Tutoring ran late and there was a bit of a problem.” Mr. Efram said he’s going to call all our parents. I’m not sure how much to tell her.

  “What kind of problem?” She’s whispering now, which is kind of silly since I don’t think any of the customers speak Mandarin.

  “Some of the guys wanted to get in a fight . . .” The beginnings of the angry bull begin to cross Mom’s face. “But nothing happened. Don’t worry.”

  “Go do your homework. I’ll talk to you in a minute.” She breathes in deeply through her nostrils and goes to seat the next customers with a fake smile.

  I slump into my usual booth near the kitchen. Almost immediately, Roy appears. “Your teacher just called and asked for your mom. I took a message since the place is swamped. You need me to lose that message?”

  I smile. “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem. How goes the crazy bus plan for getting to the tournament? You know I could give you a ride over, eh? I’m not working this weekend.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got it covered. Remember, Mel can’t know anything about this.”

  “I get it. You want to take care of everything yourself. It’s time for you to spread your wings and fly. You’re growing up so fast.” He pretends to sob into his dish towel as he heads off to pick up meals from the kitchen.

  A few minutes later, Mom’s shadow looms over my science book. This time I’m really doing homework.

  “Er zi, what do you mean there was a fight?”

  “No fight. It was just a big . . . misunderstanding. The teacher sorted it out. That’s why I was late getting here.”

  “I don’t like to hear you are involved with this kind of thing. Maybe I should tell your teacher you can’t do tutoring anymore.”

  Actually, Mr. Efram decided to cancel the tutoring sessions until he talks to all of our parents. Mom doesn’t need to know that. I feel my alibi slipping away and quickly reply. “No, Mom, it’s okay. Actually, we’re moving tutoring to Saturday mornings now. So I can come straight here after school every day.”

  “The school is open on Saturday?”

  “Uh, yeah. Mr. Efram is coming in to supervise us.”

  “He’s a very dedicated teacher.” She pauses. “Fine. But if there are any more problems, I will call your teacher and say you can’t do this anymore.”

  She believes me, so why don’t I feel happy? All I feel is an ache in the pit of my stomach.

  Chapter 15

  Cali’s face is red and blotchy when we pick her up in front of the hospital.

  “What happened, Xin Yi?” my mom asks.

  “The nurse told my mom”—she takes a wobbly breath—“that she’ll need a wheelchair for at least a few months. That means she can’t come home . . . she wouldn’t even be able to get up the front steps.” Cali inhales. “So my mom called my dad and”—she sobs out the last words—“I have to move in with him.”

  Wow! I totally forgot that Cali even has a dad. Her parents have been split up for as long as I can remember.

  “But you’ll stay with us during the week for school, right?” I ask.

  She shakes her head, squeezing her lips together to control the tears. “It’s too far. I have to transfer to a school in . . . in . . . Montreal.”

  Now I remember Cali going to Montreal a couple of times to see him. But that’s so far.

  “I’ll talk to your mom. Maybe I can convince her to let you keep living with us.” She sounds confident, but her thumbs are tapping the steering wheel like mine do when I’m nervous. Is that an inherited thing?

  “Xie xie, A Yi, but I’m pretty sure her mind is made up. My dad is driving down on the weekend to get me.”

  “Why can’t you just get a wheelchair ramp?” I ask.

  She sighs. “That’s what I said. Then the nurse told us it costs, like, two thousand dollars. Mom hasn’t been working lately, so we can’t afford that.”

  When we get home, me and Cali climb the steep porch steps and sit on her swing, facing each other, knees bent. The toes of our running shoes overlap in the middle.

  I try to imagine life without Cali. My whole life she’s always been right next door.

  “Remember Spy Club?” she asks.

  I look down through the floorboards. I can just make out the old kid-sized table and chairs we picked out of the trash one day and excitedly installed in our clubhouse under the porch. From this secret spot we used to spy on the neighborhood.

  We swing in silence for a while.

  Cali’s voice is shaky when she talks again. “I can’t believe these six steps are ruining my life.”

  When I get to my room, Josh swivels the desk chair
around to face me. “Okay, what do you have going on with this Kn1ght_Rage guy, bro? He keeps sending spam about the Top Tiers Tournament like you’re going to be there. Today it said, ‘Biggest prize pot ever.’”

  I cough. “He probably just wants more people to sign up. I think he messages everyone like that.”

  “Are you sure? Who is this guy, anyway? He uses all these numbers instead of letters. Who does that anymore?”

  Good question. “Don’t know. I only talked to him that one time when I beat him.” I’m not lying.

  “What? You beat him? That guy is godlike. He’s got the highest score for four different games. I looked him up.”

  “Yeah, so?” I flop on my bed and grab my MP3 player from under the Kaigo pillow.

  “Obviously it’s you he wants to see at the tournament. Next year you should totally go. If you win the whole thing, that’s two grand. Crap! Now I wish you could go!”

  I stop short of putting my earbuds in place. “Two thousand dollars? Is that what he said?”

  “Yup. It would take me five months to earn that kind of money from my shifts at Sportworld.”

  Sweet! I was so excited to compete, I hadn’t even thought about prize money.

  “Mr. E called my house,” Hugh says the next morning in the schoolyard. It’s already warm out, and the curls on his forehead are damp. “My dad was waiting for me at the door. Funny thing was, he just wanted to know if I was alright.”

  “That’s weird. You didn’t get punished?” I ask.

  “No. I couldn’t believe it either. He was all, ‘Buddy, you should’ve told me you were having trouble with kids at school.’ Not sure what he thinks he would have done to help.”

  “Lucky you.” Devesh shakes his head. “I am grounded. No T3. Man, I’ve never been grounded before. What the heck am I gonna do all weekend?”

  “If your parents don’t take away your computer, you can watch the live-stream,” Hugh says.

  “I guess. But I totally want to be there. What about you, Jaden? What happened?”