Gamer Girl (4 page)

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I decided to go
with a female elf, giving her long blond hair and sparkling blue
eyes. She had a pouty red mouth, big breasts, and a skinny waist.
About as different as you could get from black-haired, brown-eyed,
flat-chested, real-life me. Which was exactly what I was looking for,
actually. This way I could prance around the virtual world with ease,
masked as an ethereal goddess. And no one online would have any clue
what an ugly duckling hid behind the flawless elfin face.

Now if only I
could send my character to school. All the boys would go wild over
me. That would sure show the Haters (as I now liked to call them).

No, school had
not gotten any better, in case you were wondering. My third week into
Hannah Dustin was just as sucky as my first. I had yet to make a
single friend and each and every day the Haters would go out of their
way to make my life hell. My only consolation was all the inspiration
it was giving me for my art--which had become full of the best
comebacks and revenges on Billy. On paper, I was the most popular
girl in school.

I turned back
to the game, not wanting to think about school. It was time to give
my alter-ego elf goddess a job. I studied the choices presented. She
could be a brave, fearless knight, a holy, healing priest, or a wise
and all-powerful magician. I glanced at the elf. She was so skinny, I
wasn't sure about her wielding some huge sword. And she was certainly
way too sexy to be a priest. That left magician.

Having made all
of my selections, I had to pick a name. I wanted something cooler
than simply Maddy--which al

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ways sounded
more like an anger management problem than a name to me. Finally,
after some thought, I chose Allora-- which was beautiful and exotic
and fit my elf perfectly.

After a
dramatic introduction with sword clashing and spell casting and
rather thrilling music, the game cut to a cartoon scene of Allora,
standing in a small, colorful elfin village. She was dressed in a
low-cut red robe and carrying a big stick. She looked up at me and
smiled, giving me a sly wink, as if she knew I was there, watching,
ready to take control of her destiny. Kind of weird, actually. But at
the same time pretty cool.

I used the
mouse and keyboard, as the instructions stated, to run Allora around
the village. There were thatch-roofed huts, grassy paths, and droopy
weeping willow trees with cartoon faces carved into their trunks. I
bumped into several other characters, dressed in medieval-style gear,
also wandering about. A man in a beige tunic winked at me. A woman in
chain mail waved hello. I stopped, realizing that all of the
characters on-screen were being controlled by real-life people,
logged on from their own computers in their own homes. I watched in
amazement for a moment as the various elves, halflings, and humans
bustled about town, going about their business as if this were their
everyday existence.

Who were these
people? Where did they come from? And what possessed them to take on
a character and play this game? Were they bored? Lonely? Did they
seek adventure? New friends? Or were they just trying to escape real
life for a few hours?

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The whole
concept was so cool. Being part of an online community where people
mingled and made friends with those they'd never met in real life. In
the game, no one had any clue who I was, and they didn't care either.
I wasn't a loser who hadn't made a single friend at her new school. I
was a beautiful elfin princess who was studying to be a mage. And no
one had any idea I once spent a whole day wearing frolicking unicorns
on my chest. Thank God.

I smiled. So
cool. I couldn't wait to thank Dad for getting me the game. In fact,
maybe he was online right now. I scanned his letter to find his
character's name.

RockStarBob.

Oh-kay then.
Not the name I would have picked for a medieval fantasy character,
but whatever. I followed the instructions and typed him a message
using the game's instant messaging feature.

[Allora]
Hey, Dad! I got the game!

[RockStarBob]
Hey, kiddo! I'm glad! How do you like it so far?

[Allora]
Well, I just logged on, so I haven't really done much exploring.
[RockStarBob]
Ah.

[Allora]
Um, do you want to come ... meet me ... I guess?
[RockStarBob]
Um ...
[RockStarBob]
Hang on a sec, hon.
[RockStarBob]
kk, back. Um, I didn't realize you'd be online now. So I started
playing with some friends. We're

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in this big
dungeon, right in the middle of fighting some monsters.

[Allora]
Oh. Okay. Can I come watch you?
[RockStarBob]
Heh. No,
sweetie. You're too low a level. You'd never make it in alive.
[Allora]
Oh.

[RockStarBob]
Um, why don't you play by yourself for a bit and level up? And then
later in the week we can play together. I can meet you after school
on Thursday, around five. Just go to the Elf Tree Cafe, okay? I'll
meet you there.
[Allora]
Okay! Cool. Sounds good. See you
then! Thanks for the game!

[RockStarBob]
You're welcome, kiddo. I think you're going to love it!

"Maddy!
Cake time!" my mother called. Reluctantly, I logged off the game
and trudged downstairs. I guess it was too much to expect my dad
would just he sitting around waiting for me to log on. After all, how
would he know when we were celebrating my birthday? Not like Mom sent
him an Evite. And he did say he'd meet me Thursday. That'd be cool.

At the very
least, it would give me something to look forward to when trying to
survive yet another week of high school.

36

CHAPTER 4

I n what state
of mind is Romeo when we first meet him?"

Monday morning
and I was in English class, sketching in the margins of my notepad
while our teacher drilled us on the finer points of Shakespeare's
Romeo and Juliet.

"Anyone?"
Ms. Reilly asked, looking over the rows of bored students. She ran a
hand through her curly red hair. She was really young for a teacher
and I guessed still under the naive impression that she could
actually make a difference in her students' lives. Of course soon
enough she'd realize her role here was little more than glorified
babysitter and she'd start practicing the method the old-school
teachers favored, like wheeling in a television and letting us watch
the movie version of whatever was on the curriculum that week.

"Come on,
did anyone do this weekend's reading assignment?"

I did, nerd
that I am. Not that I'd needed to. I'd read the play four times over
the last three years and had seen both

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the 1968 movie
and the way-cool Leonardo DiCaprio/Claire Danes modern update. There
was just something about the tragic love story that really spoke to
me.

But that didn't
mean I was going to raise my hand and call attention to myself. I had
enough notoriety at Hannah Dustin High already, thank you very much.

A crumpled
piece of paper bounced onto my desk. I didn't have to turn around to
know Billy and his cronies were responsible. Ever since that first
day in school, when Grandma had told all his friends about his
bed-wetting problem, he'd made it his life's mission to annoy and
embarrass me. And he and his Hater friends were damn good at the job.
I'd had my lunch tray tipped over four times, countless spitballs in
my hair, my locker Super Glued shut, and my clothes stolen from my
gym locker and stuffed down the toilet. All in the span of three
weeks.

While I had
never been the most popular girl back in my old school, at least I
had my circle of friends. Girls to giggle with in the hallways and
boys to pass notes to in class. Now I had no one. Not even my old
friends, who were too wrapped up in their own daily lives to ever
remember to call me back. And when they eventually did, they had new
stories and new inside jokes--ones I didn't know or understand. I'd
hang up the phone after talking to them, feeling even more alone than
before.

Against my
better judgment, I unfolded the paper. Someone had drawn a picture of
a vampire girl that was obviously supposed to be me. The words FREAK
GIRL were printed

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in big block
letters across the page.
Jerks.
I crumpled up the paper in my
fist, my face burning. Laughter erupted from the back of the
classroom. I forced myself not to turn around, even though I wanted
nothing more than to give Billy the finger.

"And what,
pray tell, is so funny, William?" demanded Ms. Redly, suddenly
stopping her lesson. She made her way through the rows of desks until
she reached my nemesis and his gang. I stole a glance. All the boys
had immediately donned poker faces. Innocent angels, the lot of them.

"Nothing,
Ms. Reilly," they chimed.

She turned back
to me. "Were these boys bothering you, Maddy?" she queried.
I squirmed in my seat. Oh, great. This was the last thing I needed.
Teacher intervention.

"No, Ms.
Reilly," I said, silently begging her to go back to her lesson.
Don't make it worse,
I prayed.
Please don't make it worse.

She narrowed
her eyes. Of course she didn't believe me. She held out her hand and
I reluctantly handed over the vampire drawing. After a brief
inspection, she turned back and looked straight at Billy. "Wow,
someone's quite the artist," she remarked pointedly. "Would
you like to tell me who drew this?"

Billy's friends
started laughing. Billy hissed at them to shut up. Ms. Reilly turned
back to me. "Madeline," she said, "did William throw
this at you?"

I grimaced,
realizing my predicament. I didn't want to lie--especially not to Ms.
Reilly, who was cool and interesting

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and tried hard
to he a good teacher. But on the other hand, I wasn't a snitch. And
the last thing I wanted was to piss off Billy even more. It would
only end badly for me.

I made my
decision. "No, I don't know who drew it," I said, sinking
lower into my seat and praying she'd take my answer without pressing
me further.

Ms. Reilly
looked down at me for a moment, silent pity clear in her eyes. Great.
She felt bad for me. Could I get any more pathetic?

"I know
who drew it."

Heads turned to
the opposite side of the room. Matt, the hipster kid I met my first
day here, was madly waving his hand in the air, ignoring Billy's
death look.

"It was
Billy Henderson," he announced, triumph clear in his voice. I
smiled a little. He was the only person I'd seen so far who dared
stand up to the Haters. Probably because he was the only person who
didn't buy into their whole high school royalty thing to begin with.
I decided to make an effort to talk to him later. After all, he
definitely had good-friend potential.

"Shut up,
faggot," Billy retorted, glowering at the tattle-taler.

Ms. Reilly's
head pivoted sharply. "William," she scolded. "Watch
your language."

Billy opened
his mouth to retort, but evidently thought better of it. "Sorry,"
he muttered. I noticed Matt giving him a friendly wave from behind
Ms. Reilly's back, and stifled a giggle.

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"Billy, I
want you to go down to the principal's office and explain your need
to express yourself artistically in class," the teacher ordered.
"Perhaps we could sign you up for after-school art classes or
something."

Now the whole
class was laughing. Billy scowled at the teacher, but didn't object.

The bell rang
then and everyone jumped up, eager to leave so they could go out in
the halls and gossip about the whole thing to their friends. I
gathered my books as quickly as possible, trying to get out of there
before Billy came down the aisle. Also, I wanted to find Matt and
thank him for coming to my rescue.

"Madeline,
could I talk to you for a moment before you leave?" Ms. Reilly
asked. My shoulders slumped. So much for that plan.

"Yeah,
sure," I said, seeing no other option.

Billy pushed by
me to exit, deliberately knocking my
Romeo and Juliet book
from my hands. It fell to the floor and he stamped on it with a dirty
boot, ripping the cover. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he said
loudly. Under his breath he added, "You're so dead, Freak Girl."

I sighed. I
should have known, even though I'd kept my mouth shut and it was Matt
who saw fit to sell him out, that Billy was still going to blame me.

I reached down
and picked my book up off the floor. Ms. Reilly walked over to me and
sat down at the desk beside me.

"I've, um,
really got to get to my next class ..." I tried.

"I'll
write you a pass."

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Sigh. "Okay."
I sank back into my chair.

Ms. Reilly
smoothed out Billy's drawing on the desk, shaking her head. "He's
not a very good artist, is he?" she remarked. "In fact, I
think I've seen kindergarten finger painters with more talent."

I chuckled,
despite myself, and took the drawing from her. It really was pretty
hideous. "Yeah, he has zero sense of composition," I
analyzed. "And his lines are all shaky."

Ms. Reilly
looked pointedly at me. "You, on the other hand, I hear, are
really good. Mr. Thomas was telling me about the manga sketches you
did for him the other day."

I felt my face
heat. The art teacher talked about me to the other teachers? "I'm
okay, I guess," I replied, recrumpling Billy's stupid drawing.
"I mean, it's something I like doing."

"Well, I'd
love to see some of your stuff sometime," Ms. Reilly said. "If
you don't mind showing me. I really love manga."