At Any Price (Gaming The System) (6 page)

“That little tiny pyramid looks cool,” I conceded.

Her face fell. I’d somehow displeased her. “This is a d-four—a four-sided die. It is perfectly balanced to give me the perfect chance for a completely random one-in-four roll every time.”

“Um. Okay.”

Jenna pulled out an oilcloth and began polishing the shapes. “You don’t get to use cool stuff like this for computer games.”

I sighed. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll come soon. But this test has me so stressed out I can hardly think of anything else but studying and working so I can eat in order to keep myself alive so I can continue to stress about this damn test.”

Because I’d failed it last year. I’d bombed so abysmally that that failure hung over my future like an executioner’s axe. It froze me with fear so that the thought of taking it—and failing it—again made me physically ill inside. Instead, I studied and studied and put off the retakes. The test was offered every month and everything—
everything
—I’d planned for my future rested on that godforsaken test. I hadn’t yet found my confidence, or the courage, to try it again.

But if I didn’t do it, I’d never be a doctor.

Since school and testing usually came pretty easily to me, I’d thought that the MCAT would be the same. How terribly wrong I’d been. I swallowed an icy pebble of fear, willing myself not to think about it.

Alex plopped down beside Jenna and fingered some of the dice in the box, avoiding my eyes. “We get it,” she said, but it was easy to hear the hurt in her voice.

I sighed, sinking down onto the metal folding chair opposite them—I had such fashionable furniture. It was bad, even for a college pad.

“I’m sorry. Really.”

Alex looked up, her eyes hard. “I said we get it.”

Jenna placed a hand on her arm. “Alejandra, calm down please. I’m sure she’ll hang with us again when the test is over.”

I shook my head. “Don’t you two have finals coming up or something? Why aren’t
you
studying?”

They attended nearby California State University in Fullerton, which was on a slightly different schedule than my school, Chapman University. Alex cleared her throat. “Because I’m a communications major and she has such good grades that she opted out of most of her finals, because she’s a fucking brainiac,” she said, jerking her thumb toward Jenna.

Jenna looked up and despite the crap she’d just given me, I could read real empathy in her pale blue eyes. She was stunning, really—like the love child of a Norse goddess and Alexander Skarsgård. “It’s okay, Mia, really. If you ever need help studying or anything, let me know. I could quiz you. I don’t know much about bio, but I know there are some physics-related questions on the test and since that’s my major…”

I sighed, running my hands through my hair and resting my forehead in my palms. “I’m the worst friend ever.”

“No. You’re just stressed out and if you keep this up, you’ll fail just because you’ll be too keyed up to even focus.”

I rubbed my forehead with my thumbs, feeling the beginnings of a stress headache. This day! It felt endless, between the lack of sleep after my late shift, the rushed preparations, the unexpected meeting with a pompous but very hot asshole, the weird gaming session with Fallen and now
this.

Alex got up from the couch and came over to crouch beside my chair.
“Pobrecita,”
she murmured in Spanish, meaning “you poor thing.” She slipped an arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

I sighed again and leaned my head on her shoulder. Then she invited me to eat downstairs with her mom and we pigged out on her awesome enchiladas.

“You leave it to me and Jen,” Alex said. “We’ll find you a hot nerd and then you won’t be able to say ‘no’ to our parties.”

I grinned and swallowed, my throat suddenly tight. I’d met a hot nerd earlier that day and found I didn’t like him much.

Chapter Four

As the next few days rolled on, my mind constantly dwelled on the question of whether it was the right decision to proceed as planned. I was finding it awkward to even force myself to do my weekly DE report. This week’s had been a bland, neutral commentary on some of the lamer quests in the game. But what about next week and the week after? What about after Drake and I slept together? Would I always be worried that he’d be stalking my blog?

I could opt to cut my regular DE report from the blog. Readers would protest that. I received lots of hits, re-blogs and comments on that feature. My blog was my livelihood. It brought in more money through advertisements than my hospital job currently did. Hopefully it would keep paying the rent throughout med school as well.

So, after days of mulling it over, I came to a decision. And while procrastinating making the call to Heath, I happened to log on and find him on the game

*You tell Fragged, “Hey dude, whatcha doing?”

*Fragged tells you, “Killing trolls in the Golden Mountains. This new hidden quest chain is driving me up a tree. Come help me, I need your enchantress. They keep stunning me.”

With a sigh, I complied, running my character over to the nearest magic portal chamber to take her to the location where Heath was tirelessly hacking his way through troll parts to find some small clue to the game’s latest mystery.

*You tell Fragged, “You and everyone else who plays the game. You didn’t try to weasel the secret out of Drake, did you?”

*Fragged tells you, “No. I doubt he’d tell me anything anyway.”

*You tell Fragged, “You sure? You definitely chatted with him for a long time.”

My character was almost to Fragged’s location in the game, at the base of the Golden Mountains, when I got jumped by an aggressive mountain goblin.

*Fragged tells you, “Where are you? I’m up to my asshole in troll guts.”

*You tell Fragged, “I have aggro. Goblin jumped me. I’ll be there in a minute. Oh and by the way, I need you to get in touch with the number two guy in the auction. It’s not going to work with Drake.”

I was just finishing off the mountain goblin, my character at half her full life, when he replied.

*Fragged tells you, “Um. What?”

*You tell Fragged, “Just do it. I’m almost there—shit! Another goblin! Come help me. He has friends and I’m only at half my life.”

I watched as my red health bar—the indicator of my character’s life—started to dwindle. I punched buttons left and right waiting for his Mercenary to show up with his mighty sword so he could stand between me and the bad guys. We spell-casters referred to the big brawny warrior-types as “meat shields” because they stood between us and the monsters while we shot them with magic spells.

*Fragged tells you, “I’m on my way. I strongly disagree, by the way. If you’re going to go through with this, then D. is your best bet. And we probably shouldn’t be texting each other about it in his own fucking game.”

Fragged arrived to save my bacon when I had only a sliver of health left. I backed up, drank a healing potion and punched my highest-level spell, “Bedazzle,” to stun the goblin and his friends. They swayed back and forth with stars in front of their eyes while Heath’s Barbarian Mercenary beat them down one at a time.

“Take that, sucker!” I muttered aloud.

I turned back to my keyboard, quickly typing in my next message to Heath.

*You tell Fragged, “So why do you disagree about calling it off with him and going to the other guy?”

I finished off the second goblin with a lightning bolt and then sent a healing spell to Fragged, who was down to a third of his life.

*Fragged tells you, “Because D. is the best prospect, hands down.”

I gritted my teeth, frustrated.

*You tell Fragged, “Are you saying that because it is in my best interest or because you have DE stars in your eyes? You are hooked on this game and I know that’s what you spent your hours talking to him about—wheedling game secrets out of him.”

*Fragged tells you, “WTF.”

His character, turned to mine and made a rude gesture. In response, I flipped off the screen, though I knew he wouldn’t see it.

*You tell Fragged, “Real mature.”

*Fragged tells you, “I’m not very mature when I’m pissed. If you think, for one minute, that I was putting my own interest ahead of yours, then how can you even call me a friend, Mia?”

*You tell Fragged, “I don’t believe that. I’m sorry. I was mad. Drake pissed me off and it’s not going to work.”

*Fragged tells you, “Stop using his name, goddamn it. Either abbreviate or call me on the phone, and don’t effing insult me.”

With a heavy sigh, I grabbed the phone and called him. He picked up the phone and without a greeting, he said, “Okay, I get it. He came across about as aggressive as a mustang stallion. I have no idea what that was all about but I’m assuring you right now that he’s the far better choice than New York and I’m putting my foot down on this. Now get your ass over to my spot. These trolls are going to take me forever to kill without your help.”

“Heath—”

“No, Mia. If you want to back out with Drake, you are going to have to tell him yourself. I’ll send you his e-mail address. You let him know what you’ve decided.”

I stiffened. “Fine. I will. I can’t blog about his company and his products if I’ve had a personal relationship with him. It just wouldn’t be right.”

Heath snorted on the other end. “No, at least be honest with yourself. He scared the shit out of you because you have never been that into a guy you’ve just met before.”

“Whaaaaat?” And in spite of the fact that I was alone, my cheeks heated, my entire body grew hot and I started to sweat.

It was a good thing I had to focus on killing trolls and saving his Barbarian Mercenary’s smelly loinclothed ass or I would have died of embarrassment.

“We’ve been best friends since eighth grade. Back when you were still interested in guys, before that fucker screwed you up, I could always tell who you were into. It’s been six years since you dated that little prick and you’ve never so much as looked at a guy since. In our little meeting, you were flushed and breathing like you’d just run a marathon. Drake turned you on and that scares the shit out of you.”

My fist closed on the table and my T-shirt was starting to stick to my ribs. His character was running low on life. I prepared my gate spell to take me away from the area and out of harm’s way. I’d tell him I accidentally hit the wrong button instead of healing him.

“You have no idea what’s going on inside my head, so stop trying to figure it out.”

“Doll, when you asked for my help in this auction, you gave me the right to voice my opinion. My work is all over this venture. Quit squawking because you’re losing control.”

I wasted the second to the last troll with a killing enchantment. He could fight the last one by himself—with only a sliver of life left. “I am
not
losing control.”

“Then admit that you want Drake.”

I took a deep breath. “He’d be a conflict of interest.”

“Heal, please? And that’s not what I asked you.”

My finger hovered over the heal button, but I didn’t press it. “Are you bound and determined to humiliate me? Yes, I think he’s hot. Okay? But that was never a requirement. Now if I e-mail him and tell him he’s lost his chance, will you set things up with the New Yorker?”

There was a long silence at the end of the line. “I’ll consider it. A heal any century now would be
great.
”

“Drink a potion,” I snarled. Then I wussed out and shot him a small heal…just enough to let him think he might make it out before I gated out on him.

“Mia, I really think you should think long and hard about Drake.” And then he laughed his typical juvenile boy laugh. “Huh. See what I did there? I said ‘long and hard.’”

“Can you hear me dying of laughter over here?” I hit my gate spell and disappeared.

Ten seconds later, Fragged showed up next to me in ghost form. The troll had finished him off.

“Now who’s laughing, sucker?” I giggled.

“I forgot how bitchy you get when I’m right and you’re wrong. Go write your e-mail then. I’m not playing with you when you’re in one of your moods. But for the record, I think you’re making a big mistake.”

I swallowed my frustration, at last relieved that I apparently had won him over. “Yes, yes. It’s noted.”

So after I hung up, I sat down and wrote it.

Dear Mr. Drake,

I appreciate your interest in my auction and your willingness to lay down a considerable sum to see things come to pass. But since our meeting I’ve had some time to reflect on the matter and I feel that we would not be compatible in this venture. It was clear to me at our meeting that you lack the desire to put me at ease. This was never a requirement and I know you will point that out in your reply, but as the plans for this have solidified, I’ve decided that I need someone who is willing to make those extra efforts. As well, I do not think we would work well together and though it is only for a brief time, I still think it would be in my best interests to go with one of the runners-up in the bidding. I wish you well and thank you again for the opportunity to have met you.

Regards,

Mia Strong

Holding my breath, I pressed “send” and sat back, staring at the blinking cursor on a blank screen. After a few tense moments, I released it, realizing that I was a coward. Heath was right. I hadn’t been this affected by a man in—well—never. And I had no idea why that was the case, but at the very core of this cold feeling inside me was an icy kernel of fear or thrill. It dried my throat, made my palms clammy. I wiped them on my jeans and stood, unwilling to let myself dwell on it.