Page 79 of Don't Hate the Player
JHoops: i know. we got you tho
Beloveandabow: and i got you
JHoops: sleep tight. * <-that’s a kiss
Beloveandabow: come on dude
JHoops: too cheesy? sorry
Beloveandabow: * <-kissing u back
JHoops: yeah wow that sucks we’re not doing that again
Beloveandabow: never
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Emilia, Saturday
A FEW THINGSI am learning at my first ridiculously high-stakes esports championship match:
1.As big as the crowd is, I’m only playing for an audience of four. To emphasize how grounded I am, my parents took my car keys and drove me, Penny, and Matt to the arena this morning. They also took full advantage of my previously unused comp tickets to get seats that are, in my opinion, way too close to the stage for comfort. I made all of them promise not to wave, take flash pictures, or make any noise that I could easily identify as coming out of their mouths, and I sincerely hope they hold up their end of the bargain. I never thought my parents would find out aboutGLO, let alone want to watch me play it, and now that they’re here, it just adds another layer of nervousness to what’s already become the most nerve-racking day of my life. I want them to see me win, but more than that, I want them to understand why I’m here. Matt already understands, obviously, which is why I’ve asked him to be my parents’ and Penny’s gamer translator for the day. Matches move fast, and as nervous as they make me, I want my parents to know what they’re proud of.
2.Bob must have worked some magic on Wizzard, or else put the fear of God in anyone in a position to question why I switched to Unity for the final match. Once I said yes to joining their team and got the full, unabridged story of Muddy’s deception (Unity graciously withheld from my parents that me kissing Jake is what sparked his whole tantrum, for which I am eternally grateful), all I had to do was e-sign some documents. Bob handled the rest and spread a convincing enough tale that no one at the arena seemed surprised or creeped out that I showed up in a blue jersey. Jake and I are both pretty pleased about that—the mystery of the DPS swap gives our first match as teammates a little extra edge.
3.It is so, so much better going into a match with people I actually like on my side. I’m not just talking about Jake (though I did technically shove him in a broom closet and kiss him senseless when he showed up this morning, for luck), but the rest of Unity too. In Round 1, I was petrified to meet the rest of Team Fury and worried they wouldn’t like me even after I’d been playing with them for months; I’ve known most of Unity for a week, and they treat me like their long-lost sister who is also a highly competent digital assassin. I don’t have to prove myself to them at all, which is a big weight off my back considering how awful I’d have felt coming into this match from the opposite side of the stage. Thanks to Unity, all of my current jitters are directed precisely where they’re supposed to be: the match. Nothing else. We have thirty seconds until they call us onstage, and Jake is holding my hand in the wings. I’m feeling nervous and lucky at the same time. Nerucky? Lurvous.
It’s possible I’d be less nervous if Thibault Adige hadn’t crashed our pre-match meeting just a few minutes ago. One second we’re holding hands in a circle while Bob leads us in a focusing chant, and the next,hewas standing at the door with a small army of assistants peeking in from the hallway. It was all standard stuff, and I’m pretty sure he’d stopped by Fury’s green room earlier to say the exact same thing. But shaking the hand that designedGLOwas more than I’d expected from my morning.
“I weesh you all ze best of luck,” Thibault told us. “I ’ave already designed a free champions’ tabard skin to go out in a patch tonight. Eef you win, it will be blue. If it is Fury, red.”
So if Fury wins, we won’t be able to log intoGLOever again without running into someone sporting fabulous red armor in honor of our nemeses. But hey, no pressure.
If—no,when—we win, we’ll get to spend a lot more time with Thibault. Bob says he’ll be organizing the rollout for next year’s tournaments, and even if the winning team doesn’t compete, they get to go with him as ambassadors for the league. All we have to do is make sure those tabards go out blue.
Jake squeezes my hand and brings me back to the moment. I don’t need hand warmers when I have him.
“Ready?” he whispers. From the wings, I see Fury filing out from their side of the stage. All in a row, with Muddy at the end as a surprise. Pretty boring of Byunki to pull the same move twice, but I have the tremendous advantage of not having to care.
“Ready,” I whisper back. I let go of his hand just as the announcer calls for Bob (BTEQ).
The lights and sounds of the arena don’t freeze me this time. I walk out after Ki (KIKI) with more confidence than I’ve had for the entire rest of the tournament. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little thrill when the crowd whooped in shock to see KNOX here, but not even my brand-new Unity portrait (Wizzard took one this morning; they must have rushed Muddy’s too) distracts me from taking my place standing with my team.
Jake, or HOOP as he goes in competition, and P (LMNO) line up next, and for a moment it’s just the ten of us onstage. I keep my gaze straight ahead, refusing to look over and grace Fury with my attention.
“Finalists.” The announcer booms from the speakers like a movie trailer’s voice of God. “Shake hands and take your seats.”
Oh, buddy, I’m not shakingshit. I glance over at Bob, who makes an apologetic face at me. Neither us nor Wizzard wants the drama behind this match to leak. After a beat, Bob sets the example by walking up to Byunki and shaking his hand. Byunki doesn’t even look up to meet his eyes. I’d give a lot of money to find out more about what happened between them; all I know is that they dated and that’s what started this whole rivalry. If Bob can shake his ex’s hand, then surely I can shake my enemy’s without maneuvering into an over-the-shoulder judo toss that sends them flipping into the audience.
Fury doesn’t budge, so it’s up to us to give ground, walk over, and show good sportsmanship to each and every one of those pricks. When I get to Han and Erik, they stare coldly at a spot over my shoulder; Ivan is the only one who looks a little . . . sad? Upset? He always was my favorite. Maybe I was his favorite too.
Muddy I have a problem with, but after seeing Bob and Ki get through him without trouble, I think I can handle him. I’ve never even met the guy and he tried to completely ruin my life over, what, one kiss? A misguided sense of betrayal? Long-standing issues with intimacy, toxic masculinity, and a single-minded pursuit of greed stemming from attachment issues he developed as a child? Running over the reasons he might have betrayed Unity keeps me busy while he has my hand, and by the time I’m done, it’s time to let go.
Except he doesn’t.
I feel Jake bump into me from the side—he was going through the line as mechanically as I was, and now we’re clumped together on the stage, with Muddy holding my hand and Jake close enough to feel both of us breathing.
“Listen to me,” Muddy says through a fake grin. To everyone watching, it looks like he’s merely saying something to his replacement in earshot of his former teammate. There are no rules against that as far as I know. Doesn’t mean I want to find out what he says next.
