Arena (15 page)

He took another step toward me, and his voice rose with it. “There aren't any 1-ups or chances to continue. It's actual death. Do you understand?”

His voice practically vibrated down the walls as he towered over me. I swallowed thick. Wow, I'd really pissed him off.

He shook me.

“Do. You. Understand?”

For the love of God, shut up.

I kissed him.

There. That shut him up.

But, wait—hello there, soft lips. Wow, he tasted sweet, too, like he'd just sipped a sports drink. I sank into him, the kiss, everything. His arms slid around my waist, and the sudden warmth from his closeness was a bucket of cold water.

What was I doing?

I broke the kiss, but remained close, so his breaths tickled my nose. He stared down at my mouth, blinking, as if trying to process what had just happened. Was the kiss that unexpected, or had he felt something? He tilted his head and closed in, tentatively. My heart thrummed in my ears as his lips lingered over mine, featherlight touches, like he was debating whether to taste something that was both incredibly pleasurable and potentially toxic. Oh, he'd definitely felt something.

He pulled back, closed his eyes, and sighed.

Damn.

“Are you really that desperate to hide?” he asked. “You can't face it, can you? You have a problem.”

I did not have a problem. I couldn't sleep. That was all.

“You think it's such a problem? Here.” I chucked the pills out the door. The package landed ten feet away and skipped a few steps down the hall. “They're yours. Now I'll never sleep. Happy?”

“Why would I be happy to see you like this?”

“I don't give two shits what you feel about me,” I said, pushing the words through my teeth. Once they'd left my mouth, my chest went hollow, as if I'd just given up my heart to go with the soul I'd long kissed good-bye. “My life is my business. Get out of my bunk.”

He didn't move.

“Get out.”

I shoved him.

He reeled back, eyes wide. His fingers lingered over where I'd hit. Then he scowled, left the room, scooped up the package of pills in the hall, and disappeared. The door whooshed shut behind him.

I sank to the floor, pulled my legs to my chest, and pressed my face against my knees. Why was Rooke being such an asshole? Nathan wouldn't have done that to me. He would have popped the pills and gone for the ride. My eyes burned, and my heart ached like an open, bloody wound. Shit, I missed him.

Now, Nathan was nothing more than a statistic. A statistic no one knew about except the gamers themselves. A victim of the minefield that
was the life of a virtual gamer. Drugs. Alcohol. Obsession. Mental illness. All shrouded in darkness by a world faker than the arena itself.

Time passed as I sat on the floor. Maybe minutes, maybe hours. I sobbed against my knees until my crying fit descended into nothing more than dry heaves.

I pushed up to my feet, dragged myself to the bed, and collapsed across it. As the foam mattress morphed around my form, it was the only comfort of the moment. My face felt swollen and sore. My eyes burned from the dryness, completely drained of tears. For the rest of the afternoon, I lay there alone, drifting between reality and a sleepless sleep.

—

At dinner, I plunked down at the table with a mug of coffee in my hand and eyed the food on Hannah's plate with a curled lip. Salmon, brown rice, and an apple. Fuck food. Fuck it all.

“Are you okay?” Hannah gasped. “You look exhausted.”

With her eyes wide and eyebrows raised, I knew she was saying it out of concern, and I knew exactly what she was looking at. My reflection in the mirror left no doubt. Baggy, swollen eyes and a droopy face. I really did look awful.

I narrowed my gaze at Rooke, sitting at the other end of the table, in his usual spot across from Derek. He didn't notice or feel the weight of my glare, no matter how much I lasered my eyes into him.

“I'm fine,” I grumbled. “Just didn't sleep.”

“Maybe you should eat,” she suggested. “It might give you some energy.”

I scowled at first, then snatched the apple off her tray. Hannah opened her mouth to protest but snapped it shut when she saw the look in my eyes. The bittersweet taste swirled in my mouth as I chewed. Apple skin. Blah.

I stared straight ahead at the wall behind Hannah. She chewed her dinner, softly, as if even the crunching of her teeth would piss me off. Probably not so wrong. At some point, Lily appeared, saw my face, and sat in silence with us.

That evening we had a television interview, to be aired around midnight.
One of those late-night talk shows. I avoided Clarence until we left for the studio. Last thing I needed was a speech about how tired I looked. How could you possibly appear on TV like that? On the ride over, I kept my head down as much as I could, or rested it in my hands and feigned a headache. It wasn't much of a stretch.

“Didn't get enough sleep?” the makeup artist chimed as she layered concealer under my eyes.

I sat slumped in the chair, not even bothering to straighten up for her as she worked. “I had a rough day.”

She smirked. “Oh, you kids. Partying. Drinking 'til the morning hours. Life's tough, huh?”

I ground my teeth together. What did she know? People saw what my life was in the magazines and thought they knew me inside and out.

Honey, here's your wake-up call.

I nodded at her, simulating a sympathetic tone. “Yeah. I guess you're right. My life's not that tough. Waking up at the crack of dawn to train, lift weights, and run for hours every day. Then I spend my weekends surrounded by death. Blood and guts smeared everywhere. Do you know what it smells like when you cut open someone's stomach, and their digestive juices spill out all over your feet?”

She blanched, and her cheeks puffed out as if she was about to vomit.

I smiled and nodded at her makeup brush. “You wanna trade?”

She left. Someone else finished my makeup. In silence.

After hair and makeup, the stage director lined us up backstage while the host introduced the night's topic to the cameras and the crowd.

“Video games. Once a child's plaything. Once blamed in part for the obesity epidemic that plagued our country decades ago. Now, eSports are the fastest rising trend in history. Thanks to advancements in virtual reality, participants have to be in top physical and mental condition as the games place extreme demands on both body and mind. Tonight, you'll be meeting one of the hottest teams in the country. But first, we'll look into the history of gaming, how the Virtual Gaming League formed, and why these games have become so popular. Let's just say, we've come a long way from Pong.”

Behind stage, Hannah nudged me. “You ever play Pong?” she murmured.

I glanced back at her. “A remake of it, yeah. Not on the original system.”

“Of course not,” she scoffed. “Who has an original system anymore?”

“I'd give my right foot to play on one, though.”

“I know. Wait, right foot? Isn't the saying, you'd give up your right
hand
?”

“If I gave up my hand, there'd be no way to play.” I thumbed an invisible controller in my hands to demonstrate. She laughed.

After the introduction and history of the VGL played in a comical animation for both the audience and the people at home, the host raised his voice. “And now let's meet one of the top teams of the RAGE tournaments: Defiance.”

The stage director shoved me forward.

I led the way onto the stage. The blazing studio lights stabbed ice picks through my brain. I waved to the audience and smiled through gritted teeth. Practiced. Perfect. Between it and the mountain of makeup on my face, no one would know.

I sat closest to the host's desk. Hannah sat beside me, followed by everyone else. Rooke sat at the complete opposite end, but somehow, it wasn't far enough. Hell, it wouldn't be far enough if they put his chair in the parking lot. Yeah, I was still just a teensy bit mad at him over the sleeping-pills incident hours earlier.

The host greeted us from behind his desk. “Hello. Welcome.”

“Thanks for having us,” I said as I sat in my chair and crossed my legs.

“Of course.” He smiled and focused his attention on me. “I'm sure most people know by now, but congratulations on being named the team's captain, the first female one in history.”

Applause came from the audience, along with a whistle and a few catcalls. I smiled and waved to them again.

“Thank you.”

“That has to be quite the honor. There are probably hundreds, maybe even thousands of young female gamers watching this at home.” He motioned toward the camera. “Now you're their role model.”

My expression fell, and my stomach went right along with it. I glanced at the camera. Were there little-girl gamers looking up to me now? Oh, hello swirling stomach. So glad you could make another cameo appearance.

I clicked my fingernails on the arm of the chair and shifted my weight as I thought to myself. I offered a meek smile, letting the audience see something real. “You know, I never thought about that.”

The host laughed. “Look at her, so modest.”

“Give her a sword,” his cohost chimed in from across the stage, next to the band. “Maybe she'll be more comfortable.”

The host nodded at him. “Yeah, but then I'd be the uncomfortable one.”

The audience laughed along with the host. I joined them, façade back in place despite my churning stomach.

The host motioned toward the camera again. “So explain to our viewers at home who might be unfamiliar with the RAGE tournaments how a team that lost can still be in the competition?”

I perked up. Gaming history was about the only history I enjoyed. “Double-elimination tournaments are standard format for most divisions in the VGL. When video game tournaments first began, this style of tournament eventually became the norm so that teams who traveled hundreds, or even thousands, of miles to compete could lose more than once before they were sent home.”

“I see.”

I continued. “In the VGL, the Death Match divides the tournament field into two halves: those who lose and those who don't. The undefeated teams play each other until only one remains. The same goes for those in the losing bracket. Then, the champion of the defeated teams and the champion of the undefeated play each other for the title.”

The host nodded as he thought that over. “Then, you still have a chance to come back.”

I grinned, sly and cunning. The warrior. “We will come back.”

The audience clapped wildly. At least the fans were still with us. Some wavered between the most popular teams, but the diehards would always be with us. Probably. Unlike the sponsors.

“So,” the host began, tapping his knuckles on his desk as a grin filled his face, “apparently, there's a little romance on the team?”

Kill me now. It was going so well. The audience erupted in a jumble of applause and cheers. I laughed and feigned innocence.

“Oh, you mean these two,” I said, motioning to Lily and Hannah.

The host waved his hand. “No, no. I'm talking about this.”

He swiveled in his chair to the screen behind him. The
Pro Gamer Weekly
cover flashed across it. At the sight of my head resting against Rooke's chest, my stomach twisted so hard, my lips and toes nearly followed suit.

The crowd exploded into ooohs, jeers, and whistles. Even a
whoop
called out from the back corner.

Whoop? Really?

On stage, Hannah pressed her lips together to hide her smile. Derek playfully punched Rooke in the shoulder. I wasn't sure either of them was acting.

I looked down the row to Rooke, passing the buck to him. The host leaned forward in his desk and raised his voice. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Rooke paused for a second, then said, “I'll let the lady answer.”

The host laughed. “Smart man.” He turned back to me. “Well, Kali?”

I blinked and sighed inwardly. With the endless hours I'd spent training in the virtual world to become pro, I never realized how much I'd have to fake in reality. Was it worth it? Of course it was. If it meant I got to play the sport I loved, I was willing to do anything. Even this.

I turned to the audience and offered my best smile. “My feelings for him are as real as in any world.”

The audience applauded feverishly. Good. They bought it.

Hannah leaned toward me, and murmured, “Nice.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I replied through my teeth.

The host turned to the cameras. “Well, that's all we have time for tonight. I'd like to thank my guests, team Defiance, for joining us. I'm going to close with the VGL motto: Go virtual or go home. Good night, everybody.”

After the stage lights clicked off, and I shook hands with the host, I trudged toward backstage, tracing lines in the floor with my gaze. Were young gamers really looking up to me now? What kind of role model was I? One in the tabloids every week. Drinking. Partying. Popping pills.

“Kali.” Hannah grabbed my arm and yanked me back. I looked up at her, blinking. “You're walking in a trance.”

“I just have a lot on my mind.”

That was the understatement of my life. I couldn't get a decent night's sleep. My teammate had died, and nobody cared. My love life had become grade-A gossip for everyone else's amusement. On top of it all, I was suddenly a role model for young gamers? Me. A role model. Like a bathtub and a toaster, those two things should never be put together.

Hannah sighed as she looked over my face. “I feel like I'm asking all the time now if you're okay. I'm worried about you. What do you need?”

“Space,” I told her, walking away. “I need space.”

I knew what I needed even more than that. I needed an escape. But no drug or amount of alcohol would calm me. I had only one thing. The only place that had ever brought me peace.