Page 46 of Don't Hate the Player
“Okay,” Jake says quietly, then lifts Pythia’s hand to cast a bolt of magic almost directly at my Pharaoh’s face. “Almost” is the operative word, because when I spin to avoid it, I see another player, whose level is way too low to be in this server turned to stone behind me. It’s probably some Diamond player’s alt. They must have forgotten they’re outmatched by almost everyone else in the map. That attack has a seven-second countdown, so Jake and I re-toggle our sprint and move out of range before they crack out of their casing.
“Thanks,” I say. “Where were we?”
“We were talking about me,” Jake says, “which is weird for me.”
“I wish you were nicer to yourself,” I reply.
“Hey, Em?” he asks, changing the subject while stifling another yawn. The yawn snaps me out of the fallen-in feeling I’d had on the exploration map and reminds me that I’m not standing at the edge of the world with Jake Hooper; I’m slouching in my pajamas with a cold mug of Café Bustelo and six hours until I have to be up for school. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“I saw you on my first day at Hillford. I wanted to say hi to you, but I didn’t know if you would have wanted me to.”
That’s not really a question, but I know what he’s asking. At this hour of the night, our last four combined brain cells have definitely fallen in sync.
“I wanted you to. Or I would have wanted—Okay, maybe not fully in context because then the whole tournament thing would have been even weirder to deal with, but in a vacuum, and speaking solely on theconceptof you saying hi on the first day of school—”
“You really wouldn’t have minded?”
I honestly don’t know the answer to that. Now that Jake’s here being sleepy and delightful on voice chat, it seems like it should be obvious, but realistically I don’t know how I would have reacted to seeing him at school before the tournament. Half of me would have liked it very much. If he talked to me then the same way he’s talking to me now, I don’t think I would have had any other option.
Then again, if Jake had just rolled up to me and started talking about games, I would have had to shut him down fast. I’d never be able to talk to him like this if I pegged him as a threat from the start. Knowing that I would have done that makes me hate myself a little more.
When I started building up these walls around my gaming life and my real life, I told myself I was doing it so I could have everything I wanted. I hadn’t considered that the separation meant there were other things, better things, that I’d miss out on. Penny is one thing; she understands one half and is trying to learn a new language to decode the other, but Jake doesn’t have to translate. He gets all of it, straight out the gate. That’s why everything with him feels so easy.
I was missing Jake before I even met him at the tournament.
“Actually it could have blown everything up if you did,” I answer honestly and surprise myself by staying honest: “But I wouldn’t mind.”
“I won’t blow anything up.”
The red highlight appears again, this time on the bottom of my screen. That player who we turned to stone earlier is back; I just can’t see where. I know Jake sees the danger glow too, because his Pythia blesses me with a defense boost and whirls around to face the maze we both emerged from.
“I know you won’t. Thank you,” I say as I navigate Pharaoh in front of Pythia. She’s a great healer, but Wizzard tempered her powers by giving her a smaller amount of health compared to other characters. If Jake drops, he’ll be kicked back to the waiting room, and what can I say? I like exploring this map with him.
“Wait, I want to try something. I don’t play with Pharaohs a lot,” Jake says quickly. “Shoot into the maze to draw him out; make sure you miss.”
Sir, KNOX does not miss. “Why? I could paralyze him with a clean shot.” Our hidden enemy is playing Nero, an alien character weak to Jake’s poisonous Pythia.
“Trust me,” Jake says. I can hear his smile through the audio.
“Fine, but don’t go telling your team I have a bad eye,” I mutter and level a shot into the bushes. Nero emerges and comes straight for us brandishing a shiny galactic sword that is, in the words of Wizzard’s legal team, definitely not a lightsaber.
“Keep shooting and missing. He’s going to come for you.”
“Are you sacrificing me?” I almost yell. “I thought we were cool!”
“We are cool, hold your ground,” Jake says quietly. When Nero is two steps away from me, Jake calls out another attack: “Boost my magic, go!”
I still think he’s being a little bossy, but let’s see what his thotty snake can do. I hit my key for Pharaoh to buff Jake and watch as Pythia slams her staff into the ground to generate a bubble of sickly green magic around us both. The other player charges right into it and loses a quarter of their health with a stun on top. How do you like that poison damage multiplier, bro?
I’m impressed. The timing on that was absolutely perfect.
“Nice ability!” I observe. I’m too tired to bother with this Nero any further, so I take advantage of the stun to open a portal back to the spawn point. “Hop in here. This guy’s annoying me.”
“Sure.”
One purpley swoosh of magic later, Jake and I are back on the plaza. Some of the players from before are still around, but they’re all crowded in smaller groups and dropping emotes in a pattern I recognize as some elaborate RP argument. Jake and I may as well be computer-generated nonplayer characters, total NPCs in the backdrop of whatever scene they’re playing out.
