Playing Tyler (10 page)

Professor Jones.

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Then all I did was sign the name of the system administrator, put their street address and cut and paste the university logo and I had something like six of the ten professors actually do it. Which means I can do everything they can do… only better.

So it takes all of maybe five minutes to get in, change my sister's grade to a C, and get out. Three quick little clicks more and all the computer log shows is that I was on Amazon.com and MTV. Should I be risking jail to change my sister's grades? She always looked out for me, let me hide behind her and her cheerleader friends when all the other kids at school would have been happy to stomp all over me. And I owe her for that. She's always loved her freakish little sister, and isn't that worth something?

And besides… this is fun.

I feel good, actually. I go back to my email, open Tyler's latest message and read it again. I've been thinking about it, and Mr Anderson would have nothing to gain by sending one of his employees to jail. My science fair project, SkyPet, is what made Althea and Haranco both notice me. It was so easy to do, to change the drone I bought at the store and make it do what I wanted it to. It was just a matter of plugging the chips into the computer and rearranging the subroutines. So simple it was brilliant. Timed to take pictures every seven seconds, I flew it undetected over the red carpet at the Oscars ceremony, so I could make my demo level for
World of Fire
be a free-play set on the red carpet. I could weave in and around movie stars and limos and it was going to be amazing. It was amazing, actually, writing that level, and showing it off at the demo at the science fair was great.

But something went wrong during SkyPet's first flight. Unfortunately, I planned for a maximum wind speed of up to five miles an hour. I wasn't expecting the thirty-five mile an hour wind gusts. SkyPet was thrown off course and flew over a corner of the Los Angeles Air Force Base, still taking pictures every seven seconds. I sort of ended my report for the fair before that bit, glossing over it by saying that it was blown off-course and I tracked it to where it eventually landed just outside of El Segundo.

World of Fire's
Oscar level went viral, it seemed like the whole world was talking about it and SkyPet. Althea offered me the summer internship, helping them update their Universal Control System. Althea's model is based on having two pilots sitting at the controls and one supervisor, and I didn't really have to do much.

Then Mr Anderson knocked on my door. He wanted me to make a game based on Althea's UCS. But he wanted a single-pilot machine that would then be used to train the pilots for the UCS that Althea was set to sell to the Air Force. He mentioned all these wonderful things about a job with Haranco: the ability to work close to Yale, enough money to be able to cover almost all of Yale's tuition, the chance to graduate from college with four years of relevant work experience to put on my resume, a chance to help my country.

But that's when the job interview became strange. It's like he was reading my face, seeing that my first choice for college wasn't Yale, it was MIT. And working for Althea was great in that it would almost guarantee admission to any school I wanted, but I wanted to design videogames, not work for some branch of the military-industrial complex. He watched me as my mind disengaged from the interview, and he asked my mother if she could get him a glass of water. As soon as Mom left the room, he showed me the pictures.

Pictures from SkyPet's cameras as it flew over the Los Angeles base. He used words like
restricted air space
and
criminal trespass
and
federal offense
. If I worked for Haranco, he could make sure that I avoided prosecution. I was fifteen, it was my first real job interview, and it was an offer that I couldn't refuse.

Cheeks burning, I still can't believe that I forgot to factor in the potential for such high wind gusts. It was stupid.

But I've been thinking a lot about it over the past week and I don't think that Mr Anderson would bring it up again. I mean, he would look even worse than me in court because he
knew
that I violated restricted space and hired me anyway. By turning me in, he would be turning himself in, and he doesn't strike me as the type of guy who would do that just because I sent an email to Tyler. Tyler's promised not to even talk about the sim, so I just don't think it will be that big of a deal. Maybe. Hopefully.

Staring at Tyler's email, I hit reply:

Hey Tyler,

Sorry I haven't written you back…

No, that sounds completely pathetic. I delete and try again:

Hey Tyler,

How are you?

No, I know how he is, he emails me like every day. God! I delete, try again:

Hey Tyler,

How are things going? Got your emails, but I've been busy.

Argh! That makes me sound mean. I'm not going for mean. Why is this so hard?

Tyler,

Have you played the new
Gods of Destruction
yet? I haven't picked it up but I hear that it's good.

-Ani

What if he doesn't like
Gods of Destruction
? I didn't see it at his house and it's still such a stupid thing to write. At least it's conversational, I guess. He's still going to think that I'm a moron. I lick my lips and delete it. God, if I was actually honest he'd never email again. I type:

Tyler,

You don't want to have anything to do with me. Date some cute, nice girl from your school or something. Listen to Mr Anderson and stop emailing me. You'd be better off without getting involved with my terrible, messed-up life. Besides, I've never had a boyfriend before and I would do everything wrong.

I squeeze my lips together as I look at the words. That's what I really should send, isn't it? The truth. But the truth is that I don't want him to stop emailing, not really. I move my fingers over to…

“Miss?” A voice calls from over my shoulder.

I jump. I turn and see a librarian standing over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I'm sorry, but your time on this computer is up, we have other people waiting.”

That was close. “OK, let me just sign out.”

I look back over to the screen. Oh. No.

Blinking on the screen in front of me is a little box:

Your message has been sent!

 

Tyler

Is she here? How would I know? The lobby whirs. Buzzes. Like it's alive. People everywhere. Can't believe a midnight movie is so crowded. Don't these people have jobs that they need to go to in the morning? I shove my hands into the bottom of the pockets of my sweatshirt and wait. I should get some popcorn, maybe. Hungry. Forgot dinner. I forget that a lot. Mom never remembers to ask. We used to sit together, have a regular family meal… I should totally get some popcorn.

My sneakers half-stick to the floor of the lobby. I bump into some guy, mutter sorry and hide my face further in the hood of my sweatshirt. I'm never going to be able to find her here. Too many people. They need to leave. I rush up to the line. Nah, too long. Don't really want popcorn. I want to find SlayerGrrl, Ani.

Such a nice name, Ani. Sounds soft, like her hair, like the skin on the back of her hand.

I head over to my place against the wall, pushing my back in hard until I can feel the cool concrete. Feels good. I watch as the lobby starts to clear. The 11.45 movie's just started. Gearing up for the 12.15am show. Had to get here early. Make sure she's here, can only pull this once.

Palming the ticket in my hand, I turn my head as a group of girls walk into the lobby. Preppies. Not her.

I wait until another big mass of kids come through the doors, and I scan. Rooting through the crowd like a kid set on a hidden cookie jar. Blond guy, brunette, not her, guy, guy… bingo.

I throw my eyes to the floor. My heart leaps into my throat. Let her not see me let her not see me let her not see me.

It's her. I can feel her, like she has some sort of gravity of her own. My eyes are pulled to her. She's why I'm here. Probably never would have had the balls to try and pull this off if she didn't send me that email this morning. Damn.

She looks so good. She's wearing a short corduroy coat and tight jeans and black shirt. Nothing special. But the way she looks in them. It's like she just stole all my air. Now I'm stuck. Can't even breathe. It's gotta be like three hundred degrees in here.

Go, Ty, go. Go now. There's only one movie left. You know which theater it's gonna be in. She doesn't see me. She's with a guy and a girl. He's sort of a goth-looking guy with a crazy-ass mop of black spiked God-only-knows-what on his head and has chains all over his jacket. The other girl has long brown hair, real frizzy. But she must be good to talk to because SlayerGrrl just can't seem to talk to her enough.

How can she not see me? I bang my back into the wall again. Feeling the collision ride through my muscles, giving me strength. Then I push off. I go.

I hand my ticket over and look back over my shoulder, checking to see where she is. In line for popcorn. Cool. That gives me what, like six minutes? Ten? Maybe I should just wait until I know she's in the theater. I mean, maybe that guy she's here with will talk her into sneaking into a different film and she won't even…

Stay focused. I pull some gum out of my pocket and shove a few pieces into my mouth. Focus.

Why do they hang giant reels of film from the wall, really? Are any movies actually shot on film anymore? I thought they all went digital. That's a stupid way to decorate.
Akira
is showing in theater number six.

Following the arrows down the red carpeted halls, I find theater six. I move past it. Need to find the door that leads to…

EMPLOYEES ONLY. Just like CineNerd23 said. I pull my hood up further around my ears and turn the knob.

 

Ani

So despite being a complete waste of time, freshman English did at least introduce me to Seth Castigliano and Maura Sweeny. Maura and I are supposed to work together on a paper about freedom as represented in nineteenth-century French literature. Joy. But the good news is that she's really sweet and introduced me to Seth, one of the officers of the anime club. I work on the nights that the club meets, but Seth now makes sure that I get all the info on any fieldtrips. Like tonight's outing to see
Akira
.

Seth and Maura were nice enough to wait until I got off of work to head over to the theater so I wouldn't have to walk alone. They're both really into
Ghost in the Shell
, Maura even named her cat back home Batou, and it's clear that they're both much more into it than I am, but listening to them talk as we go sorts of sets me at ease. It's nice to be out, with people, doing normal college things. The rest of the club came over early and should be holding some seats for us inside. Seth's a nice guy, a little chubby for the super-goth look he prefers, but he's got an honest smile and is clearly crazy about Maura.

They are both great people, though, and it's nice to have something to do on a Saturday night.

I check my email again for like the sixth time this hour. God, I am such an idiot. I can't believe that message went through to Tyler. Now he's never going to email me again. Which is a good thing, I guess. There's a buzzing as I put the phone back in my pocket; I pull it out, look down.

I don't want another girl. I have nothing to talk about with other girls. I want to get to know YOU. –Tyler

Oh my God, I don't think I can breathe. I look at the ticket in my hand, do I go in? Or do I go find a quiet place to return Tyler's email?

 

 

Tyler

The staircase is narrow. Climb, just climb. The walls are cold, cold running up through my hands, into my heart. Please don't let me get caught.

I take my hand off the wall. Climb. The door to the projection booth is unlabeled. I lick my lips. Wipe the sweat off the top of my forehead with the back of my sleeve. Why did I wear this sweatshirt? Too hot. Gonna get heatstroke or something. I nudge the door open a sliver with my shoe. Can say I'm lost. If they ask. If they're here, then I'm just lost, is all.

“Hello?” I call through the sliver. Can't see anything. Don't really hear anything, either. Thought I would hear the slapping of film against reel. That's the way it sounds on TV. I guess not anymore. I open the door fully. “Hello?” I say again, a little louder.

Nothing. Just the regular purr of a room full of computers. Great. Perfect. The room is not as big as I thought it would be. No windows. No glass walls looking out over the screens. Just four walls and a bunch of computers. I walk over to the monitor and get to work.

Pulling out my phone, I open the email with CineNerd23's instructions. Hurry, Ty, hurry. They'll be back and you'll be caught and it'll all be over.

I bite my bottom lip and type in the codes as fast as I can. Was that a noise on the stairs?

Numb fingertips racing over the keyboard, I type the message. Clanking on the stairs. Heart in my throat and pulsing up through my ears, I wait. Loading… loading…

Can't this thing go any faster? Pulse so loud I think I'm gonna vomit from all the noise, I leap when the screen I need pops up. Thank you, God. I hit enter and run.

Throwing open the heavy old door, I pound down the stairs, each foot slamming into the concrete so that the impact rides up my legs, so that I feel it.

Then I'm in the hall. Breath quick. Did anyone see?