Gamer Girl (23 page)

At the same
time I wished I could just go back. Like in that movie
The Matrix
when the guy takes the blue pill. The one that would let him live out
his life in ignorance, forgetting the harsh truth of reality. After
all, if I didn't know Sir Leo was Chad or if I had never told Chad
that I was me, maybe we could have at least continued our sweet,
innocent video game romance.

But even as I
wished it, I knew it was a stupid thing to want. After all, why would
I want to spend my time with someone who thought I was a loser? A
freak? Someone less than worthy of his attentions?

Though of
course a part of me still did. A very pathetic stupid part.

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I squeezed my
hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms until I drew blood.
I tried to tell myself that at the end of the day, his opinion didn't
matter. I wasn't a freak. I wasn't a loser. I had plenty of new
friends who thought I was talented and interesting and fun and they
chose to spend time with me. The real me--not some stupid virtual
reality version. If Chad Murray wasn't interested in Maddy Starr as a
living, breathing person--someone with strengths and weaknesses,
talents and flaws--that was his choice. And it didn't reflect at all
on the person that I was. Life without Sir Leo, without Fields of
Fantasy, would go on. I'd be fine. In fact, I'd be more than fine. I
didn't need him.

So I dressed,
choosing a bright-colored baby doll dress that said I didn't have a
care in the world. I grabbed my books and my keys, then looked around
for my sketchbook. It wasn't in my room. I must have left it at
school. Thinking back, I remembered working on it in the library
before Ms. Reilly came by, but couldn't remember if I'd grabbed it on
the way out. A small worry tugged at my brain. What if I'd left it in
the library? No one would have walked off with it, would they? My
contest entry was in there. All my original drawings.

I tried to
rationalize away the bubbling panic in my throat. Oh, God. How could
I have been so stupid? What if someone had found them? What if... ?
No. I couldn't even think of that!

I had to get to
school, now!

228

Black Raven
approached me as I jumped off the bus at school, her already normally
white powdered face looking more than a bit pasty.

I squinted my
eyes at her. "What's wrong?" I asked, a feeling of dread
washing over me. For some reason I just knew this had to be about my
drawings.

She didn't say
anything at first, just looked at me with a pained expression. Oh,
God.

"You're
scaring me," I said, shoving my trembling hands in my pockets.

"Uh, I
think you'd better sit down," she replied, grabbing me by the
wrist and dragging me over to a bench. She sat down next to me,
taking both my hands in her own. Her black fingernail polish was half
chipped off, as if she'd picked at each nail. "Did you leave
copies of your contest entry at school yesterday?" she asked.

I suddenly felt
like I was going to throw up. "Um, I think I might have left my
sketchbook in the library at lunch," I told her.

"But those
were copies, right? Not your originals? Or you have copies somewhere?
At home, maybe?"

"Um, no.
Those were my originals," I said. "I was going to copy them
when I was done this weekend. Get Kinko's to bind them into a book."
I caught her eyes in mine, my heart beating a mile a minute. "What's
going on, Blackie?"

She dropped my
gaze, staring down at her lap, swearing under her breath.

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"Blackie?"

"Those
bastards," she whispered. "I'm going to beat their faces
in."

Oh, God, oh,
God, oh, God. "What happened?"

"Maddy,
someone stole your drawings. And they ... well, they added stuff to
them."

I stared at
her, heart wrenching inside my chest. This wasn't happening. It was a
dream. Or something. My drawings. They couldn't be . . .

"Added
stuff... ?" I croaked, unable to summon up much more than that.

"You know,
like ... mustaches. Devil horns. And they . . . well, they hung them
all around school."

I was going to
pass out. Right then, right there. Keel over and let the blackness
take me. If I was lucky maybe I'd hit my head and go into a coma or
something. Anything so I wouldn't have to deal with this nightmare
reality.

"Billy
..." I mouthed. It had to be him. Unless it was Chad. I knew he
didn't want to be with me. I knew he thought I was Freak Girl. But
could he really . . . ?

"Actually,
word on the street--or in the halls, I guess-- was that it was
Chelsea and Lucy," Black Raven informed me. "Amy was in the
bathroom and she heard the twins, Grace and Gemma, giggling about it.
But I'm sure it was on Billy's orders. Those two won't wipe their own
butts without him giving permission first."

I slowly rose
from the bench, my legs wobbling, trying

230

to regain my
composure. Tears slipped from my eyes and splashed down my cheeks. I
wanted to brush them away, but my hands didn't seem to want to work
right.

I couldn't
believe it. My book, with my very personal story line, was not only
ruined, but currently hanging around school for everyone and anyone
to look at. What would people say when they saw Allora blasting the
Billy look-alike with fire from her fingers? What would they think
when they read how through her adventures she ends up the most
popular girl in school? And that wasn't even the worst part. I
realized Chad was going to see those drawings, if he hadn't already,
and recognize himself as Sir Leo. And he'd know about my stupid crush
on him--my pathetic fantasy of making him my real-life boyfriend. It
was beyond humiliating.

Black Raven
looked up at me, sympathy in her eyes. "I'll kick their asses,
Maddy," she swore. "Whatever you want me to do. You just
let me know. I'm here for you."

I nodded numbly
and turned to walk into school. Everything seemed to be moving in
slow motion as I tried to process what I'd just learned. My contest
entry--destroyed. The book I put my heart and soul into--now marked
up and ridiculed and put on display for all the school to see. As I
walked through the front doors, I could immediately feel the stares,
hear the giggles. They were all making fun of me. No surprise there.

I was once
again nothing more than a joke.

My eyes fell on
a small crowd gathered around a locker.

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They were
laughing and pointing. I pushed through them to find my drawing. The
one of Sir Leo and me cuddled up together, watching the waterfall.
Someone had drawn a huge penis on Sir Leo and changed the caption
from "I love you" to "Wow, I'm horny!"

I tore the
drawing from the wall and pushed my way hack out of the crowd, trying
to block out the laughter and jeers. Not ten feet down the hall there
was another scene, similarly doctored up. And another was posted a
few feet from that one.

All my hard
work, all the hours I'd spent perfecting each panel. And in one
evening, two girls who hated me because I didn't live up to their
standards of cool had seen fit to destroy it all, ruining my chance
to win the contest and humiliating me in front of the whole school.

I dropped the
two drawings I'd recovered on the ground. I didn't even want to touch
them anymore.

The dream was
over. The Haters had won. There would be no happy ending for me.

Then, just when
I thought my morning couldn't get any worse, I saw Chad and Billy
down the end of the hall, in the middle of what appeared a heated
conversation. They must have made up from the fight they'd had. Not
surprising, I guessed.

Chad looked up
and saw me.

I turned and
fled.

I know, I know,
not very brave of me. I should have

232

stalked over to
him and punched him in the face. Or spit on him, at the very least.
But I couldn't help it. I no longer felt strong. And I was too
embarrassed to face him now that he'd seen all the romantic drawings
I'd sketched of him. So instead I ran down the hallway like a coward,
out the front doors, past the buses, and across the parking lot. I
stopped when I got to the edge of the school grounds. I gave one last
look at the school, then started walking down the street toward home.

I arrived at
Grandma's house about an hour later, sweaty and exhausted from the
walk.

I noticed Mom's
car in the driveway. Great. She was home from work. Just what I
needed to make my day complete. She was going to kill me for leaving
school.

Whatever. I
didn't even care. I pulled open the screen door and trudged inside.

"I'm, uh,
not feeling well," I shouted, in the direction of the kitchen.
"So I, uh, came home from school. I'll be in my room."

Mom was in
front of me a split second later, her hand on my forehead. How she
cleared the living room that fast was beyond me. Some weird mom
powers, I guess.

"What's
wrong? Is it your head? Your stomach? Do you have cramps? Are you
feverish?"

No, Mom, my
heart is broken, I'm the laughingstock of school, and everything I've
worked for has been destroyed. And the guy I love thinks I'm a loser
freak.

"I just
don't feel good," I said. "I'm going to take a nap."

233

"Maddy,
you look like you're going to cry," Mom said, studying me with
concerned eyes.

"I'm
fine," I managed to choke out past the huge lump in my throat.

There was no
way Mom was buying that.

"Go up to
your room," she instructed. "I'll make some tomato soup and
grilled cheese and be up in a few."

I smiled a
little. Tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches was my favorite
meal ever. When I was younger I use to fake sick just so Mom would
make it. "Okay," I agreed. "Thanks."

I padded up the
stairs and into my room. My computer sat in the corner, mocking me. I
collapsed on my bed without even bothering to take off my shoes,
pulling myself into a ball and hugging my knees to my chest.

Just when I
thought things were finally getting better, life had imploded on me
once again. I couldn't win. I just couldn't win.

Now there would
be no contest entry. I'd be stuck at Hannah Dustin until graduation.
Stuck dealing with the Haters for another two years.

Could life suck
any worse?

My mom pushed
open my bedroom door a few minutes later, armed with a tray of piping
hot soup and perfectly toasted sandwiches. I sat up and she set the
tray over my lap, then took a seat on the edge of the bed. I picked
up my spoon and dunked it in the soup, bringing the steaming liquid
to my mouth.

"Mmm, mmm,
good?" she quipped.

234

"Definitely,"
I said, setting down the spoon and grabbing half the grilled cheese.
Mom had cut off the crusts, just as I used to like it as a kid. Guilt
washed over me as I thought about how ungrateful I'd been over the
last months.

"I'm sorry
I'm such a lousy daughter," I said, taking a bite of sandwich.

Mom surprised
me with a laugh. "What makes you think you're a lousy daughter?"

I rolled my
eyes. "Come on. I've been nothing but a B-I-T-C-H since we sold
the house and moved here and everyone knows it."

"Okay,
fine," Mom admitted with a small smile. "You haven't been
the most pleasant person to be around, it's true. But you need to
give yourself a break, too, you know. You've been through a lot this
year."

"You don't
know the half of it," I muttered, mouth full of cheese.

"Probably
not. But I'm your mother. And I think I know you a little better than
perhaps you give me credit for." She reached over and brushed a
wayward strand of hair from my face. "Obviously moving has been
rough on you. And I feel so bad for making you switch schools in the
middle of the year, leaving all your friends behind." She
sighed. "At the time, I didn't see any other solution. I was so
angry at your father. ..."

"Why? What
did he do? You never told us." Maybe this time I'd finally get
to hear the truth. "Why did you leave him?" Mom considered
the question for a moment. "Your father

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is a wonderful
man in many ways," she said. "He's very fun. Outgoing.
Enthusiastic about whatever he throws himself into. When we were
first together, we had a blast. He was always making me laugh."
She stared off into the distance, remembering. "But after having
two kids, I wanted a stable life for you two. It couldn't be all fun
and games anymore. In a sense, I finally grew up." She picked up
a photo of Dad from my nightstand and studied it. "But your
father never did."

I nodded,
thinking back to all the times recently that Dad had acted more
childish than my eight-year-old sister.

"He let me
down over and over again with his irresponsible choices. It was like
having a third kid instead of a partner." Mom set down the
photo. "Frankly, I grew tired of it."

"Yeah,"
I said, staring down at the ground. As much as I wished to ignore it,
I could see her point. Why would she want to be married to someone
like that?

"It was
hard to make the decision I did. Mainly because I knew it would
affect the two of you so much. It tore me apart to pull you out of
school and see you suffer here. But I didn't feel I had much of a
choice. I couldn't live life as I had been. I just couldn't."

My heart went
out to my mother. She'd been so strong to make a change in her life
to get what she needed. And what had I done in return? Acted like a
brat. Selfishly whining about my own situation, not even thinking
about how hard it had been for her.

"The good
news is," my mother continued, "that I'm happier