First Song

by Blaise Corvin

  A lightbulb went off in Noah’s head, and he suddenly had insight into how to deal with nosy adults commenting on his love life…or lack thereof. He smiled broadly as he turned around. Krystal’s eyes met his and her cheeks colored before she bent to her own drink. She said, “Maybe you can help me with my part of the project at my house again. I won’t even get mad if you’re glued to your phone the whole time.”

  A shadow fell on Noah, and a low voice said, "Does this mean you two are dating?"

  Jamal, Noah thought, irritated. I thought I lost him. He rolled his eyes at Krystal as if to say, "See what I have to deal with?" and turned around to face Jamal, the six-foot-eight, star basketball player of the Washington High School Cheetahs. Up close, Jamal’s freckles were visible on his dark skin. Some snow had fallen on his dreds and hadn’t melted yet. The young man really was insanely athletic. He’d probably run here just like Noah had.

  Noah sighed and said, "We’re just friends, Jamal. Now, what can I do for you?"

  The basketball player shrugged his broad shoulders, making the thick jacket he wore open, flashing the military top that he usually used as a light coat. "Can we talk, Henson?"

  Krystal’s eyes narrowed, and she not-so-subtly turned her glass, grinding it against the table. Noah felt tired. This wasn't the first time he wished he’d found a way to level his Charisma stat over the past nine years. Maybe if he had, Jamal would have left him alone since football season. The guy was stubborn. Noah pointed at Krystal. "We're talking,” he said neutrally.

  "Alone," Jamal insisted.

  Krystal objected, "Your team is good enough, Jamal. Can't you guys win a championship without Noah? Didn't he do enough for you when you played quarterback?"

  The tall young black man frowned, pushing a finger down onto the table as he spoke. "We lost at state by a touchdown. One touchdown."

  Noah made a face and took a sip of his milkshake, enjoying the thick, malty goodness. "Not my fault, man. Your halfback didn’t listen to me and veered off script."

  Jamal leaned forward and stared Noah down. "I don't know how you do what you do, Henson, but it's a gift. Dad always said you can't keep gifts to yourself; they belong to the world. This is my last year, man. I need a sports scholarship to get into college and so do a bunch of other guys. The money Mom gets from the military after Pop was gone isn't cutting it. Help a brother out. Also, look, you might as well join the team. Just a few minutes ago, you proved to a heck of a lot of people how fast you are."

  Noah sighed. Jamal's financial situation wasn’t news to him. I am planning to pay for his college anonymously already, sheesh. His Charisma stat helped warn him to keep his approach subtle since Jamal was clearly on edge, but Noah had had enough of the cat and mouse. He said, "The scholarship you are talking about go out to students in junior year. If you were going to win that one, it would have been then, not now. Something will still probably come up, though. You’re one of the best players in the state.”

  Before Jamal could say another word, a large hand gripped the senior’s shoulder. Noah followed the hand up to its owner’s face and nodded to Johnny, his best friend. Despite only being a freshman, Johnny was the only guy both taller and wider than Jamal in their entire high school. He pulled the basketball player a step back from Noah's table as easily as opening a door.

  "There a problem, buddy?" the big freshman asked Noah with a pleasant tone, maintaining his grip on Jamal’s shoulder.

  Noah sipped his milkshake some more, waving at Johnny that everything was fine. The truth was he was beginning to strongly regret having used [Harmony] to help the football team. He said, "Jamal here wants me to help out with basketball team plays and do my chess pieces thing even though I told him I was done after the football season."

  Jamal rolled his eyes, shrugging Johnny's hand off. "Why be like this, Henson? I mean, you can help, and it doesn’t hurt anyone. You’d be helping your school and your friends. Instead, you’re doing what? Hanging out with your totally-not-a-girlfriend and messing with group projects you’re probably already finished? Is this fun for you, casually showing off how fast you are and then refusing to do sports?”

  Ouch, Noah thought. That kind of hit close to home. He carefully did not look at Krystal. Things were already awkward enough. Noah’s Charisma helped him think of a couple counterarguments to Jamal's statement. If he’d really wanted to, he probably could have used the full force of his stats to be aggressive and attack the other guy’s pride too, which would be devastating, but would make him an enemy and might even start a fight. Jamal had been being pushy and annoying lately, but Noah couldn’t hold the concerns about his team or his future against him. This was also partially Noah’s own fault for helping out before using [Harmony] without thinking through the consequences.

  There were two paths he could take here. Jamal was not a bad guy, he was actually one of the most popular guys in school for a reason, so venting any frustration was off the table. Instead, Noah decided to just level with the big athlete. They weren’t close friends, but he and Jamal had always respected each other.

  Honey over vinegar, Noah, he reminded himself. His Charisma was best used with a subtle hand, too. "Dude. Let's be real. You've been stalking me for two weeks, and I've made it very clear I want to be left alone. I've got nothing against you or the team. In fact, helping out in the fall should have made that clear. But now you're acting like I owe you something, not even just the team, but you personally."

  Jamal’s chest rose, his hands tightening. Johnny looked concerned, but Noah slightly shook his head. He ruefully thought, I guess I led with vinegar after all. Noah knew that the words had probably stung. Jamal was extremely proud, and proud of his father. His dad had served as a Marine and had died overseas, but had always made it very clear how proud of his son he was. Jamal had a fiercely independent streak and a strong core of decency that Noah planned to exploit.

  Time for the honey. It was time to just be honest. In a softer tone, Noah said, "I like you, Jamal. Heck, I even look up to you, and not just ‘cause you're a few inches taller than me. You work hard like no one I know—"

  A small hand with blue nail polish pushed Noah's shoulder. "Ahem."

  "Besides Krystal who is really good at helping me with my homework and is very pretty," he added quickly. "But seriously, because of you, I feel like if I work hard enough, I can make anything happen. Michigan was stupid to not give you that scholarship, but that’s not my fault, and it’s not my job to fix it. This is my life, and the only person I have to answer to is me. Let’s stop the nagging, please."

  Jamal's anger visibly deflated, the bravado he'd built up gone.

  Noah pressed, "You're a leader, both naturally and because you work your butt off. People need you.” He let the compliment hang in the air before he delivered the sucker punch he’d been working towards. “If you don’t get a scholarship, why don't you join the military?"

  Of course Noah already knew that Jamal would get a scholarship, courtesy of one of Noah’s many shell companies—and he really did deserve one. Jamal worked hard at everything, and kept very respectable grades while still playing practically every sport he could, still somehow keeping a social life on top of that. Noah was betting that reminding the proud young man that not getting a scholarship was not the end of the world would put their conflict to rest. Jamal had even told Noah before that he’d wanted to be a Marine like his father before he’d gotten into sports in middle school.

  Hopefully, if Noah had hit the right buttons, the conflict would end. He also hoped that if everyone knew even Jamal couldn’t convince him to plan sports strategies anymore, they’d all leave him alone.

  The basketball player opened his mouth like he’d say something, but shut it. He studied Noah as if looking at a stranger for the first time. The tall young man paused before shaking his head. He evenly said, "You're an interesting guy, Henson,” before turning to walk away. His posture was different now, and he stood like he normally did—back s
traight and proud. Jamal really was a natural leader, unlike Noah.

  The surrounding tables started their chatter again, but Krystal, Johnny, and Noah watched Jamal walk out of the diner in silence. With [Listen], Noah could hear the high school senior’s breath catch outside, as if the guy had something caught in his throat. Jamal muttered under his breath at first, but then clearly said, "Oorah, Pops. I guess it's Semper Fi for me. Mom is not gonna be happy." He chuckled.

  Noah turned off [Listen], suddenly feeling like he was intruding,

  Back in the diner, silenced passed between Noah and his friends for a few moments before Johnny raised an eyebrow and lifted his palms up, backing away like Noah was cursed. "You're a drama magnet, bro."

  Noah put a hand to his chest like he’d been wounded. "Is that why you hang around me so much, then?"

  His friend ignored the jibe. "Wanna watch us do some holo gaming later? Adventures on Corinthia got a new expansion pack. My paladin just upgraded his armor. We’re still top hundred, but it’s more fun now that Dragonx42 doesn’t focus on rankings anymore. I think Shiek Freak had it right to just explore and do cool quests. That game is huge."

  Noah shook his head. "Can't. Gotta prep for the talent show tomorrow."

  Johnny set his legs wide in a v-stance and rocked out to an air guitar. "Later, brains."

  “Later, brawns.”

  Noah turned to grab his milkshake and absently took another sip. He mentally sighed in relief that he could stop dodging Jamal at school now. Then he pulled out his phone and opened his favorite real estate app. “There you go again,” sighed Krystal. “Are you going to check out now?”

  Noah lifted his eyes and thought furiously. He was normally completely focused and devoted on his mission, to prepare humanity for the Shift, but he also knew he needed to allow himself breaks or he’d burn out. Not only that, but maintaining relationships and building new ones was part of his mission. Of course, these were all great ways to rationalize the fact that he really just wanted to hang out with his friends for a little while.

  “Nah, it can wait,” he said and put the phone away. “Want to order something? It’s been a while since we got burgers here. I’ll buy.”

  Krystal grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter 15

  Dinner for the Henson family was Chinese take-out, a weekly family tradition. Noah and Clark busily attacked their food while Lana worked on her tablet. Noah's mom pressed the end-conversation button and raised her eyebrow at her son as he slurped up the broth of his wonton soup. Her look said, ‘I know you're about to say that slurping in China is considered polite, but this is my house and you play by my rules.’

  Noah set down the bowl. "Sorry."

  "Thank you," said Lana. "So, I just got pinged by Eileen Connolly, confirming she just accepted her new position as the mayor. Exciting news.”

  Something in his mom’s overly friendly tone tickled Noah’s sixth sense. “Uh huh,” he replied cautiously.

  Lana continued, her voice picking up more artificial sweetness that confirmed Noah’s suspicion. He had a good idea of what was coming and reminded himself to act accordingly. She said, “Well, she also had some even more exciting news! You can imagine my surprise when she said you and Krystal were seen together at Lucy’s earlier today with your own booth.”

  With a luminous smile, Lana let the implication hang in the air of the dining room. Noah's father stopped eating his General Tso’s chicken and set the bowl down next to his plate of white rice. He adjusted his cheap, owlish glasses and leaned over his dinner, barely noticing when Lana helpfully pulled his tie to the side, out of his food.

  His face grave, Clark spoke with the most serious tone his son had ever heard, "Spill."

  Noah set aside his own chopstick and thought carefully about his response. In his first life, he had never had to face his parents getting involved with his social life for one simple fact, he’d never had one. The most difficult challenge he faced in his new life had been staying consistent with how someone his age would actually react to things. Being smart and wise for his age was okay, but going too extreme would be creepy. Even with his Charisma stat, Noah had failed a few times in his early attempts to sound like a normal teenager.

  Sometimes he came across too cartoony, other times too reserved. It had been a difficult balancing act, one he had to refine and tread carefully over time. Ironically, just being himself had seemed to help a lot. Sometimes he had to remind himself that everyone is a little weird, and other teens were all over the place as people. Being “a teen” would never work, because teens were all different.

  As for his parents, he just didn’t want to hurt their feelings. If there is anything I’ve learned about my parents in my new life it's that they love finding ways to embarrass me. They must get a lot out of it. Unfortunately for them, I don’t get embarrassed easily.

  Noah recalled the books on adolescent psychology and his own previous life. His Charisma stat tickled the back of his head, reminding him of another important factor. Before, I probably robbed them of moments like this. Mom and Dad seem to really enjoy teasing me. This realization led him to the best option, to acknowledge what was happening but deflect a little.

  "Uh,” he said, trying his best to sound caught off guard. He blurted, “It's not a big deal."

  "Honey?" Clark asked his wife, trying his best to look genuinely confused, Noah noticed the faint smile.

  Oh, you rotten scoundrel, Noah thought. He does enjoy this. You suck, Dad! Despite his irritation with his parents that at their core, they seemed to be such goofballs, he was happy that he’d chosen this path. Noah didn’t always have opportunities to share moments like this one with them, and he’d never forget how they’d sacrificed themselves, selling their lives for him in his past life. He could put up with their terrible sense of humor and corny personalities—he knew of the loyalty that lay beneath it, even when he’d been a depressed, antisocial misfit.

  Clark continued, "Does Noah sound like he's spilling right now? Or maybe he already spilled, and our son is so smart that he learned how to speak with his mouth closed."

  Noah figured the most melodramatic thing he could do in that moment was to let his face fall into his hands, hiding behind them sheepishly. He peeked through his fingers and watched in fake-horror as his mom played along, her expression innocent, chin resting on the knuckles of her hand. Even though he was hamming it up, his mother’s smug grin still made Noah feel a little nervous.

  "No, dear,” she replied. “He sure didn’t explain to us why he was sitting alone with a pretty girl. A very pretty girl. In fact, it sounds like Noah is ashamed to tell his wonderful parents who clothe and feed him that he might be interested in someone. I mean, this is Krystal Connolly. They’ve been spending a lot of time together.” Then Lana threw head back dramatically, her face pained, “Think about what all our friends will say when they hear how this son of mine shows his thanks to us! You told me to give up on him, but I, his mother, believed in him! Our little genius has feelings just like every other kid out there—"

  Noah did his best to suppress a smile. He was starting to get a kick out of watching how corny and lame his parents could sink. Apparently there was no end in sight. He had to be careful not to break his act. I don’t think I can hold my frown anymore. Noah pushed his chair back from the table, stood up abruptly, and announced defiantly, “I’m going to my room!" He set the chair down, pushed it in, and walked to the stairs without another word.

  His parents booed playfully at his response.

  Noah was halfway up the stairs when [Listen] picked up his mom and dad whispering merrily, "Noah and Krystal sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G," before quietly laughing.

  Oh my God. Seriously. I’m actually getting embarrassed for them now. "Gosh! Grow up!" he yelled down the stairs with as much indignity as possible, but couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice. That was a good touch, he thought approvingly, then mentally muttered, Dorks.


  ***

  Hours later in his room, Noah turned on his computer and punched a fifty-letter password into his keyboard, recalled easily with his level five [Memory Palace]. The skill had limited usefulness since he only had one room in his mind per level. This complex password had taken one of the mundane skill’s rooms, but with a lot of space to spare. Although he couldn’t hold a lot of information with [Memory Palace], it synergized perfectly with [Hacking], allowing Noah to store and perfectly recall important related information. After a few more clicks with his mouse, followed by peak-level typing speed, Noah stared at an encrypted message. A few more minutes passed before he was able to decrypt it with his [Cipher] skill. The message was in French, one of the many languages he was completely fluent in.

  He translated, "They're on to us. Get out."

  A chill ran through Noah's spine, blood draining from his face. The message had come from the small, but powerful group of hacker friends, Anonymoose. His own [Hacking] ability was level five, and he couldn’t raise it anymore. Functionally, this meant he was great, but would never be amazing, and the group of talented hackers could simply do things he couldn’t.

  After establishing contact with them through the video game Adventures on Corinthia, it still hadn’t been easy to gain their trust. [Charisma] didn’t affect people over the internet. He had to be in person with someone in order for it to take full effect.

  They probably only trusted me because they recognized I'm just as, if not more, paranoid than all of them combined.

  Upon joining the group, even the notoriously reclusive and private members of Anonymoose had obviously thought Noah was a little strange. He had created overly redundant security measures to prevent any of his activities from being leaked. Still, he suspected that if any of the other hackers in the group had really wanted to, they could have penetrated Noah’s systems.