Page 28 of sWitch

“You’re not going to beat us in time.”

“Everyone’s going to see you for who you are.”

Her V for Valin witch avatar with long pink hair swayed her hips on the screen as players milled around her. The chat bubbles were from two different gamers: Pretty in Purple and Girth Certificate.

Obviously, they were low life, asshole trolls.

But what were they talking about?

Why were they heckling Fauna, and why’d she put up with it? She wasn’t just putting up with it—she was online playing V for Valin all the damn time… Were these dick-heads harassing her for all those hours I watched her green,online nowdot? It didn’t make any sense. Something was missing, something I’d almost gotten her to admit to me in the mall.

Maybe that colorful RPG game held more answers than I’d previously thought.

I tossed my take out bag into the treehouse and followed after it.

“Dude, right in my food,” the garbled voice of my brother greeted me. He was leaning in the corner, our solar twinkle lights glimmering as he tossed his pizza crust into the cardboard delivery box.

“That twin magic strikes again,” I said, grabbing my bag and unwrapping a taco. “Seems we had the same idea.”

Trevor pulled a taco from my bag and took a bite. “We didn’t get full on caviar and mushroom bites as kids—sure as fuck won’t survive off them as adults.”

I took a slice of pepperoni. “Has anyone seen you yet?”

“Nope, came in through the back.”

“Same.”

We ate in silence for a while, the crickets outside chirping as various cooks and servers filtered in through the lot beneath us. “So, is Fauna still coming?”

Trevor buttoned the top of his light blue collared shirt. He always hated having the top button so tight around his neck. He was dressed up tonight, and so was I. I’d worn a white button down shirt, slacks, and a sports coat. My tattoos, save for the ones on my neck and hands, were concealed. The silver loops and studs from my piercings were back at my apartment, sitting in a dish by my bathroom sink.

My twin raised an eyebrow at my getup. “Why so…preppy?”

My throat suddenly felt tight. “Did we both forget to bring sodas?”

Trevor reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flask. When I reached for it, he pulled it away. “Who are you trying to impress by being so square? Not Dad, I hope.”

“Like I could compete with you if I tried,” I argued. “You’re the golden child. The chosen one.”

Trevor scoffed. “You’re so dense sometimes.”

I took a long, burning gulp of bourbon and passed him his flask back. “Hey, we should probably talk about… I need to tell you something.”

My twin held up his finger as he fished his phone out of his pocket. “Hold that thought—she’s here.”

“Fauna?”

“What? No, Mary Jane.”

“Why is Mary Jane here?”

“She’s your date, dumbass.” Trevor climbed down the ladder, and I followed after him.

“Oh, ok, let me check and see if I have a text fromyourgirlfriend—oh, wait, she doesn’t text, because she has a flip-phone from 2007.”

Trevor chuckled. “She’s an odd bird.”

“Why the hell is Mary Jane texting you?”

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