Cure for the Common Universe (24 page)

G-man tapped his fingernails on his desk. “I can't disclose that.”

I laughed. I was seething. I'd earned a million points in record time, and it didn't matter. The system was corrupt. The game had a bug. The moment I won, instead of an explosion of colors with “VICTORY” written in sparkling golden letters, all that lay before me was a desert.

“Electronics are expressly forbidden at Video Horizons,” G-man said. “It's exactly what we're trying to weed out. I hate to say it, Jaxon, but the penalty for breaking those rules is steep.”

“How many points?”

“One hundred thousand.”

“You're fucking kidding me,” I said.

G-man pointed at me. “Language. You want to lose even more?”

A clock hung above G-man's head. 4:58.

I'd performed enough miracles so far. I was not about to quit.

“I got cheated,” I said. “I should be able to make it up. Hold a tournament. Today. Right now. Make it any kind of tournament you want. A fight to the death! I don't care! I'll win, and then I can walk out of here, fair and square.”

G-man grimaced. “Even if I could do that—and I won't, because it wouldn't be fair to the other players—I'm not sure you're ready to leave Video Horizons. I want to make sure you've really grown here.”

“I have!” I said. “Hugely. I've learned tons of new skills. Find me a ukulele. Go look at my cross-stitching! Let's go to the Feed, and I'll make you an amazing tofu scramble!”

G-man gave a pained smile. “And what about socially? Have you made strides in that department?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your dad had some concerns about your lifestyle choices. To send you back after four days, saying you're completely cured . . .”

“You think he won't get his money's worth and will demand a refund.”

“No.” G-man shook his head. “Absolutely not. My focus is to improve kids' lives. Not turn a profit. But that's not the point here. Some of the stories coming from your guild—”

“Like from who? Meeki? The girl who hit her brother with a Wiimote?”

G-man gave me a look. Why did I have to be such a sarcastic dick in our first meeting?

“I'll sue,” I said.

“Excuse me?” he said.

“I was injured. One of the players made my kart crash. My dad's a lawyer. They call him the Mountain.”

“Your dad is a retired salesman,” he said. “And he signed a waiver stating that Video Horizons is not responsible for any injuries you might incur during your activities here. In fact, I specifically remember him telling me you could do with a few dings and scratches.” He rubbed his neck and thought for a moment. “That would be really nice for you, wouldn't it? If I were the bad guy. Some big boss you needed to defeat in the end.”

He was the bad guy. He was standing in the way of the princess. He just didn't know it. Because I'd never told him.

“I have a date!” I said. “In . . .” I checked the clock. “Oh God, one hour and fifty-nine minutes. I met her right before I was committed here. At a car wash. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I made her laugh. I've never done that before. She was the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, let alone talked to, and—and she said I was the funniest person she'd ever met. If Command and Conquer don't drive me home, like, right now, then I'm not going to make it. This girl is probably the only thing that can make me leave video games behind. Otherwise,
I'm going to go home and just start playing again.”

G-man considered me for several moments. “That's an interesting theory,” he said. “A girl to solve your problems.” He stood, punching his hip to get upright, and supported his weight on the back of his chair. “When I started Video Horizons, I made a promise to myself that every patient who entered this facility would leave changed for the better.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “That hasn't happened for you yet, Jaxon. And I think somewhere deep down inside, you know it.”

I didn't say the words on the tip of my tongue. I didn't say them because G-man was still the best chance I had of getting out of there.

I stood and left the office without another word. I needed to figure out an escape.
Immediately.
Earning points was out. Walking home was out. G-man wasn't going to help. I paced Video Horizons' halls, searching for an answer. I needed a hearthstone. I needed a homeward bone. I needed a reset button.

And then I found my answer, shyly peeking around the corner of the hallway. Soup. He wasn't running up and latching on to my love handles like he always did. He was keeping his distance, looking as if I wanted to eat him.

Things clicked into place.

Who wanted me to stay at Video Horizons more than anyone else?

Who had mentioned my ugly-ass Home Depot hat even though I'd never taken it out of my suitcase?

Who had painted me inside a Pokéball?

I ran up to Soup, grabbed him by the wrist, and pulled him down the hallway.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

I didn't answer. We scaled the stairs to G-man's office.

I knocked on the door.

“Come in,” G-man said.

I placed my hand on the door handle. “I lied,” I said to Soup. “You and I live right around the corner from each other. I just didn't want to hang out with you because you're a sniveling little piece of shit.”

His face crumpled, and I opened the office door.

G-man was typing something on his phone.

He glanced up. “What's up, fellas?”

“Tell him,” I said, shoving Soup's shoulder toward the desk.

Soup looked back at me, confused.

“Tell him you planted the iPod Touch in my suitcase so I'd stay.”

G-man set down his phone and intertwined his fingers. “Is that true?” he asked Soup.

Soup looked at me. His eyes glistened. His head sank. He nodded.

G-man narrowed his eyes at Soup. Soup didn't lift his head. I ignored the weird sinking feeling in my chest.

“Sorry I didn't trust you, Miles,” G-man said.

“Totally fine.” I clapped my hands together. “That means I have a million points again. You have to drive me home now. You promised.”

“I don't have to do anything of the sort.”

“Wait, what?”

“Not after hearing what you said to Soup outside my door. I'm still deducting the hundred thousand points, but this time it's for ill treatment of one of your fellow players.”

I felt the blood rush to my face. “He—he sabotaged my game just so he could spend more time with me.”

Soup sniffed and let his head hang.

“What if he did?” G-man said. “Is this how you treat someone who shows you affection? When you strip away all the stories you tell yourself, Miles, you're left with the bare facts of what you did or did not do. I'm keeping you here.”

I searched G-man's watery, sincere eyes. “You were never going to let me out anyway.”

He shrugged. “We'll never know now, will we?”

It took every bit of energy I had not to put my fist through the wall.

G-man pointed to the door. “Go to guild therapy, or I'm calling Command and Conquer in here.”

I nearly tore the door off its hinges. I thundered down the stairs and down the dead fluorescent hall toward the green light of the exit. I kicked the push bar and stepped out into the harsh air of the desert.

I stared past the parking lot, past the dunes. I was trapped in an infinite sandbox, a game that never ended and cheated to keep me in.

What did I do now?

Didilingdingdingdingding. You could stop being such a douche bag, Miles!

Screw you, Navi,
I thought.
I won, and it made zero difference. I don't need you anymore.

I imagined the little fairy sprite's wings drooping. She fluttered across the desert, painting the dunes with fairy dust, and then vanished on the horizon.

The door opened behind me. “You supposed to be in therapy?” Command said.

I didn't turn around.

“You need me to walk you there?” he said. “Or do you think you can find your own way like a big boy?”

Could I make it? If I ran into the desert right then, could I outrun him?

I turned around and went back inside. Command shut the door.

M
eeki's voice echoed down the Nest's stairwell.

“—inspiration. You're just so amazing and so pretty. But you also make me feel like being pretty doesn't matter. You made me realize that a lot of what I get mad about comes from me believing what people say or—”

I opened the door, and Meeki immediately stopped talking. She glared at me. “Well, that moment's ruined.”

The guild circle was set up, but three of the chairs were empty. It was just Meeki, Aurora, and Fezzik. Zxzord was in his bunk.

“Hello, Miles,” Fezzik said. He didn't seem surprised to see me. “Have a seat. Meeki, please continue.”

She kept glaring at me. “I thought you were gone.”

I sat in the circle. “I thought I was too.”

“Well, we're happy to have you,” Fezzik said. “Do you know where Soup is?”

“With G-man.”
The little shit.

I set my elbows on my knees and pressed my palms into my eyes, trying to quiet my brain. I should have been cruising across the desert toward home.

“Meeki?” Fezzik said. “Go ahead and finish.”

“I'll tell her later.”

“Fair enough,” Fezzik said. “Miles?” I didn't lift my head from my hands. “It's Aurora's farewell guild therapy. Once the new players get here, Command is going to drive her home. Is there anything you'd like to say before she goes?”

I looked up. Aurora's strange eyes glistened with tears. This was the girl who'd predicted I would remain at Video Horizons for a very long time.

“Nah.”

“Maybe later,” Fezzik said. He slapped his knees, trying to dispel the awkwardness. “Aurora, do you have any last words for the guild?”

“Just . . . be good.”

“Lovely and simple,” Fezzik said. “Thank you, Aurora. I think I speak for everyone when I say that you've made some incredible growth while you've been here. You've overcome some terrifying obstacles when it comes to how you feel about your appearance, and you've figured out that you deserve better than what your current relationship is offering. We wish you the best on your adventure back in the real world.”

He looked at me and Meeki, both unresponsive, and sighed. “Well, let's talk dopamine. I'm sure you guys are experiencing
some of that after winning the paintball tournament. Heh-heh.”

Nope. All of my dopamine had been slurped right out of my brain by Soup and G-man.

“Video games stimulate the pleasure circuit of the brain,” Fezzik continued, “making gamers feel accomplished even though we aren't actually accomplishing anything. Can anyone speak to this?”

“You are without a doubt the most selfish person I've ever met,” Meeki said.

I rolled my eyes and sat back. She was talking to me, of course. What else would you expect from a name like “mekillyoulongtime”?

“Care to share your feelings, Meeki?” Fezzik said. “Using non-negative, supportive language?”

Aurora brought her feet up onto her chair and folded into herself.

“He thinks he's better than us,” Meeki said. “I wish he had left. We don't need him in the Fury Burds.”

“Meeki,” Fezzik said, “that isn't what I meant by supportive—”

“Really?” I said. “You don't need me? Even though I earned our guild hundreds of thousands of points? You're welcome, by the way. Oh,
and
I broke Scarecrow's nose for you.”

Fezzik gave me a confused look. I didn't care. He could take away every last point I had. It didn't matter anymore.

Meeki locked eyes with me. “Do I
look
like a helpless little
girl who needs a big strong man to step in for me? I've won more fights in the last
year
than you will in your entire
life
.” I glanced at her arms, which were, in fact, larger than mine. “Besides, you didn't break Scarecrow's nose for me. You did that for yourself. You were afraid you were going to lose at Four Square, and hurting him was the perfect excuse to get out of it. If you were disqualified, then losing wouldn't be your fault. And then you could keep pretending you have a snowball's chance in hell with that car wash chick, which, by the way, hate to break it to you, you don't.”

I snorted and turned to Fezzik. He hadn't made so much as a Wookiee sound.

“You're obsessed with this princess in another castle BS,” Meeki said. “It's ingrained in you. The poor innocent girl is just waiting for you to swoop in and give her everything she's ever wanted. You think Gravity cares about you? You guys exchanged, like, a hundred words, and now you're
obsessed
with her? It's creepy.”

I looked at Fezzik again. “Aren't you gonna step in?”

Fezzik breathed in deeply then caught it. “Sometimes an adventurer needs to enter a battle without a protection spell. This could be good for you emotionally, Miles.”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. What did they know about my experience at the car wash? None of them had been there.

Defenseless, without Fezzik as my healer, or Soup as my shield, I refaced Meeki.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I said.

“Miles . . . ,” Fezzik warned.

I threw my scroll at his feet. “Take all the points you want.” I turned back to Meeki. “I'm just trying to go on a date.”

“You don't really care about that girl,” Meeki said. “You don't even know her. You just want to be rewarded even though you're lazy and treat everyone like shit.” She also threw her scroll at Fezzik's feet. “This has nothing to do with Gravity and everything to do with your malnourished sense of self. You hate women.”