Page 7 of The Stolen Tribute
“What?” I looked at my boss.
My boss’s face was white. He pointed to the television on the far wall. The news had my photo on it. It was the one that I used for my Zexian Tribute application, not even one of my better ones. Underneath it said,DO YOU KNOW THIS GIRL? – USA TRIBUTE FILE CORRUPTED.
My jaw dropped.
The newscaster said the AI returned my info, but the file was corrupted, and so the official organization hadn’t been able to trace me properly via social security number. All they knew was I lived in California. A state-wide search was beginning.
“What the hell?”
Everyone in the café pulled out their phones and started making calls.
“Wait! Wait!” I shouted.
My boss grabbed me and shoved me into the back room.
I gasped for air, unable to comprehend what was going on. In my locker, I could hear my cellphone vibrating louder than a Hitachi magic wand.
“You applied?” My boss asked.
I shrugged. “As a joke! I thought it would be funny to share when I was streaming one day that I didn’t get picked.”
“Well, you did.” My boss deadpanned. “Goddamn, where am I going to find another dependable opener like you?”
That was what he was worried about? What about me? I was the one who the entire country was looking for to throw onto a rocket and marry an alien.
Someone was pounding on the door.
“What now?” I squeaked. “There’s a crazy mob out there looking for me.”
My boss sighed and held me by my shoulders. “Go out the back door, and good luck. Thank you for your service.” He saluted me with surprising seriousness.
“Thanks,” I breathed.
I took off my apron, grabbed my bag from my locker, and ran as fast as I could.
I didn’t stop running until I got to my apartment.
Thankfully, no one was there waiting to kick my door down. Though, I bet it wouldn’t take long now.
I fumbled with the lock, threw open the door, and locked it behind me. Sliding to the ground, it took me a few minutes to catch my breath. I was a gamer, not an athlete.
I pulled my buzzing phone out of my purse. I ignored the countless calls from family, old exes, my dentist (honestly?), anyone, and everyone who knew my face. There was only one person I wanted to talk to. Sue.
It was three AM in Melbourne, but I had to talk to her. I punched in her cellphone number and hit send. After a billion long-distance warnings, it started to ring. A moment later, she picked up.
“Kylie? Are you ok? You never like … call call! What happened?” Sue stammered.
“Sue, I wanted you to be the first to know. I did it. I applied as a joke, and now, well,” I swallowed hard. “I’m the Tribute for America.”
If Sue were anyone else, I would have thought that would have been the end of our friendship then and there, but Sue wasn’t like that.
In fact, the first thing out of her mouth was. “Oh my god, what about your sponsors?”
I laughed. Gaming. That was my true love, not some Zexian brute.
I glanced at my phone. Three missed calls from my agent. “I’m pretty sure they already know. Even Dr. Bernstein, my dentist, called me,” I said.
“What are you going to do?” Sue asked.
