Page 53 of How We Play the Game
Player ZION has been eliminated by Player ZORA.
“My knight in shining armor,” Ivan praises once he’s caught back up to me.
“C’mon, damsel,” I call out to him before taking off to the new safety zone. “We’ve got a match to win.”
Ultimately, the match isn’t ours to win. Ivan gets taken down by a rogue rocket launcher midway through our sprint to the new safety zone, and I wind up placing third after afierce melee battle with a girl I vaguely recognize seeing on my floor before. Still, it’s an improvement from our match earlier this week—both in terms of placement and viewer reaction.
“Thank you guys so much; this was fun,” I say to chat as a flurry of heart emojis pile in at the end of the match.
“Seriously, you’re the best,” Ivan adds. “After Zora. Zora’s the best, then you guys.”
“I thought you said you were lactose intolerant?” I say to Ivan, who looks over at me with confusion. “But today you’re extra cheesy,” I finish, to a barrage of laughing emojis and all-caps messages in the chat.
Ivan rolls his eyes and brushes his hair out of his face in a way that we both know drives his love-stricken fans wild—his own chat says as much. We, along with the rest of the academy, sign off from our respective streams with a final goodbye to our viewers. A weight settles uncomfortably on my shoulders as soon as the red light above my camera blinks off, reality setting in now that I’m no longer on my virtual stage.
“I thought that went pretty well,” Ivan says, appearing beside me in record speed.
“Zora, can we talk?” For someone so tall, Cass is surprisingly good at sneaking up on me. He didn’t used to be, or maybe I never used to let myself get as distracted as I am these days.
“Yeah.” I make sure my headphones are unplugged and roll my chair around to face him. “What’s up?”
“You had that shot on me and you didn’t take it. You gave it tohim.” He gestures toward Ivan with a look of pure disgust. “The Zora I know would never do that.”
“Cass.” I lower my voice. Is he being serious right now? “You know it’s just for the stream.”
“Yeah. That’s worse,” he says. “I can’t do this.”
By now, Kavi and Trieu are out of the game and are tuned into our conversation. It’s rare enough to see Cass on this side of the stage—but to have him look at me like I’m a coiled-up cobra is extra rare.
“What do you mean you can’t do this?” Kavi asks. “We still have a week to go before the final rankings come out.”
It’s been neck and neck between the five of us, but now that Ivan’s truly on my side, I’m not as worried about winning the academy. Top five would be great, top two amazing, but I have my in with Brian Juno regardless of what happens. Or at least that’s what I told myself when Trieu and Kavi pulled in front of Ivan and me in the rankings last week. Which doesn’t make a ton of sense, but the Wizz-Algorithm works in mysterious ways.
“I mean I’m off the team. Leaving the party, whatever. Good luck with the rest of the academy, but I can’t contribute to”—he takes a pause to look at me, then Ivan, then back to me—“whatever this is.”
“Cassius, please—”
“Zora!” a voice calls out before I can say anything else—a voice that makes me rocket out of my seat. Cass hears it too and rolls his eyes.
“See you on the map, guys.” And with that, Cass exits stage right.
“There you are, all of you.” Brian Juno doesn’t have to wait for the crowd of teens onstage to part for him to have a clear path to our cluster of desks.
“Hi, Brian!” My voice is high-pitched enough to summon a pack of dogs as I stand at military-precision-level attention. Ivan’s arm wraps lazily around my shoulders—the weight of him grounding me is comforting, despite my general aversion to touch.
“Fantastic job today,” Brian praises as he approaches us with a childlike bounce to his step. His cheeks are flushed pink like he just got in from a snowstorm. That, or he has rosacea.
My knees threaten to buckle, but Ivan thankfully tightens his grip on me when I wobble slightly. “Thank you so much,” I reply quickly, resisting the urge to jump up and down. Approval!—praise!—from Brian Juno!
“Kavi, Trieu.” Brian nods at them each in turn, and I hear Trieu in particular fail to restrain a thrilled squeak. “Do you mind if I borrow these two for a moment?” The two to which he refers are Ivan and me. “Walk with me.” Brian’s already walking past us, gesturing for us to follow him by curling his index finger. I’ve never walked so fast in my life—practically leaving behind a dust cloud as I race to keep up with him.
We weave through the hall with ease, all of the other academy members parting for Brian like he’s Moses in the Red Sea. I can’t help but preen over the quiet gasps and whispers surrounding us as we head for the closest exit on the right side of the room—leading toward the Wizzard offices we’ve never been allowed to visit. Before, being the center of attention felt like a curse. Dozens of eyes watching my every move, pulling me apart. Today, a rush of pride washes over me as Ivan and I are escorted out of the room by Brian Juno himself. Proof of what I’ve known since I got here—that I have what it takes to make it to the end. To be the best of the best.
“Your streams have been doing excellent numbers,” Brian says as soon as the door to the hall swings closed behind us. “No surprise, our audience loves a good star-crossed lovers story.”
My heart rockets into my throat at the idea thatwemight be the next Wizzard staple couple. Emilia and Jake. Zora and Ivan. I’ve gotta admit, it has a nice ring to it. Ivan shoots me a discreet knowing look, giving me a thumbs-up first before sliding an arm around me again. Without thinking, I lean into his touch. The smell, the warmth, the feel of him making this all the more intoxicating.
“I see a lot of really exciting opportunities for you two. And if you keep up the good work,” Brian says as we turn a corner to a sleek gray hallway—office doors with vaguely familiar names listed on the doors. Wizzard execs, I’m pretty sure. I’m practically vibrating from the high of Brian Juno praise. If I wasn’t so determined to see this through to the end, I might even say I could die happily right in this moment. “Ivan mentioned you might want to throw your hat in the ring for my creative mentorship program this fall?”
