Page 77 of Level Up
twenty
captain kirk is climbing a mountain
My first panicky thought,as I scrabble off of Damien’s lap, is to ask him to escape out the window, like we’re teenagers and this is a TV show from the 90s. Of course, that would be absurd, so my next panicky thought is that I should flingmyselfout the window?—
Marie knocks again and I bark back at her with a tetchy,“Just a second! Jesus!”
Way to be totally chill about this, Me.
I shove Damien’s glasses back on his face—crooked, and possibly upside down—and throw his hoodie at him. If nothing else, it might cover up the fact that the front of his jeans is completely distorted. Like, obscenely.What in the motherheckingheckdoes he have going on down there?
No time to worry about that now, because I’ve got a bra to reattach—also crooked—and hair to flatten out—both of ours—and breathing to do—which I keep forgetting about.
“Say that you were just leaving because you need to get home to stream this afternoon,” I tell him in a harsh whisper, even though I’m pretty sure Marie wouldn’t be able to hear me in the living room at a normal volume.
“Okay…” He seems uncertain, but he stands and slips on his hoodie anyway.
“Everything okay?” Marie calls out, and I rush to the door to swing it open far too enthusiastically.
“Everything is awesome!” I tell her with a fake grin, but I wince when I realize I’m quoting the Lego movie. “Um, we were just… Video game stuff. But, uh?—”
“I have to get home for my stream this afternoon,” Damien says when he appears next to me. He sounds far less robotic than I would if I were reciting a script like that.
Marie watches him with razor-like intensity as he tugs on his shoes. “You’re the new gamer friend, I suppose?” she says, and he smiles politely but I can see in his eyes that he hates this as much as I do. Social interactions. Questions from other humans.Person-ing.
“This is Damien,” I say to her, because I think that’s what I’m supposed to do in this situation. I turn towards him. “This is Marie, my sister.”
He gives her a nod in greeting, but she ignores it in favour of narrowing her eyes at me. She is never going to let me live this down.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she says when she looks over at him again. “Audrey’s said so manyinterestingthings about you?—”
“Okay, well, he really has to go,” I cut in, and I start pushing him out the door before he’s even got his jacket all the way on. “We’ll talk later,” I tell him, and he gives me a nod as well before disappearing down the stairs.
“Well?” Marie stares at me once he’s gone. “Are you going to let me in?”
“Why?” The bitterness in my voice is unintentional but unavoidable. “Fine, yes. Come in.” I step aside to let her through, and she stops to slip off the ballet flats she must have put on just to come up the stairs. I resist the knee-jerk impulseto snap at her about what the hell she’s doing here in the first place.
She wanders into the apartment, looking around like she hasn’t just been here a week ago when she needed to escape from Gram blasting ABBA all day. She turns towards the TV once she reaches the living room, and I realize that the speedrun must still be playing—we barely got fifteen minutes into it before we were, uh, side-tracked.
She frowns at the TV and then over at me. “Do you usually get this sweaty and flustered from watching people play video games?”
“Yes,” I say dryly, because I have no good answer for that.
She snorts a laugh at that—an actual goddamnlaugh—and flops onto my couch. I don’t even think she’s laughingatme, I think she just…thinks I’m funny.
I’m going to get a good grade in Sister, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve?—
“I’m sorry for interrupting…whatever was going on here,” she says a moment later. The way she sighs makes me think she’s being sincere. “I just…needed to get out of that house.”
I don’t point out to her that we are technically still in that house.
“It’s fine,” I say with a shrug, dragging my feet over to join her on the couch. “Damien really does have to stream this afternoon. He does it everyday.”
“So, is it, like, his job?” She sounds more curious than condescending.
“Pretty much, yeah. He’s the most popularStones of Ayorstreamer who’s still active,” I tell her. “Though he does some sort of freelancing website stuff on the side? I don’t fully get it, but I think most of his income is from streaming.”
She nods and sinks further into the couch, her attention still on the TV. “And you met because you both like this game?”
