Cure for the Common Universe (25 page)

“What are you
talking
about? My mom was an
alcoholic
, but I still—”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she said.

“Everything! It—it—” I was so mad, I could barely control my mouth.

“Just because something goes wrong in your life doesn't mean you get to become the wrong in everyone else's,” Meeki said. “And nothing has gone
that
wrong for you. Being a straight white guy in middle-class America means your life is set on the easiest setting.”

Fezzik cleared his throat. “I think what Meeki is trying to say is that sometimes it's tough for us to recognize our own power, and we exploit the weaknesses of others. It's like . . . if choosing your character's class in
Arcadia
were randomized. Some people would get the warrior class, while others might get stuck with—”

“It's nothing like that,” Meeki interrupted. “Miles is a privileged brat who thinks he can do whatever he wants because his life is so hard. ‘Oh, boo hoo, my parents got divorced. Oh, I
don't get to go on any dates. Oh, someone took my
video games
away.' How do you think it feels being a fat, queer Vietnamese girl? Huh?”

Tears welled in Meeki's eyes. I searched the circle for help. Fezzik had given up. Aurora stayed hidden behind her knees.

I was baffled. “You're talking to me like I'm . . . Scarecrow or something.”

“You're right,” Meeki said. “I'm sorry. You're nothing like Scarecrow.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“You're kind of worse. Because you actually believe you're the good guy. But really you just use us to cheat and earn points so you can go on your precious date.”

“That's the entire point of this place!” I burst out. “We're all trying to earn points!”

Everything went quiet. Zxzord blinked at us from his bunk. Meeki smiled. “You think I'm the only one who thinks you suck?”

“Meeki,”
Fezzik said.

“Fine. I'm not the only one who wishes you were gone.”

I scoffed, but then noticed Fezzik wouldn't meet my eyes. He stared at his giant hands. I peeked through Aurora's folded-up legs and caught her eyes. I had told her so many true things about myself—about airports and loneliness and
Dr. Mario
. But she wasn't stepping in.

“Remember yesterday?” Meeki said. “When Aurora was crying in the Feed?”

“Meeki, don't,” Aurora said between her knees.

“That was because of
you
,” Meeki said. “You said she was a weirdo.”

“No, I didn't!”

“Yeah,” Meeki said. “You did. On the roof. She's tried to escape being weird her whole life, but you just come in here and say whatever you want because you think you deserve to get out of here in four days. How's that working out for you, by the way?”

Before I could respond, Aurora stood up. “May I be excused?”

Fezzik nodded, and she hurried out of the Nest.

Meeki's eyes stayed locked on me. “I won't even mention how you treat Soup.”

“Soup loves me,” I said. I did not sound convincing.

Meeki scoffed. “Soup would love a refrigerator if it could talk to him.”

I couldn't argue with that.

“Everything is always about you, Miles,” she said. “You take up all the space in guild therapy.”

“Is that a fat joke?” I asked.

“No, idiot. With your
voice
. You're disrespectful to everything that happens here. You never listen. And when you talk, it's just so you can earn points.”

I stood so quickly, my chair fell over. “What makes you so perfect, huh? Hitting your brother in the head? Ignoring Fezzik and talking about vibrators and Nutella and all the disgusting stuff none of us want to hear about?”

Meeki stood too, and we met in the middle of the circle almost nose to nose.

“Guys,” Fezzik said, standing with us.

“See?” Meeki said. “Even after I tell you that you take up all the space, you still don't ask about anyone else. You talk so much that the rest of us barely have time to talk about why we're here. I hit my brother in the head with the Wiimote because he said he could smell my ‘girl parts' all over it. But do you give a crap? No, you just care that you go on a stupid date.” She shut her trembling jaw and collected herself. “You think
I
ever get to go on any dates? I don't.
Never
.”

I fell back into my seat, exasperated, and shook my head. Meeki loomed over me.

“You're the biggest addict of us all. You might leave here, Miles, but you're going to leave here the same privileged asshole as when you were committed.”

She sat down and crossed her arms. I was suddenly uncomfortably aware of myself. And not just my man boobs.

Fezzik carefully tried to reignite the warmth in the room. “Arguments like these can be difficult, I think, because we're not properly equipped for them. The more time we spend in a gaming world, the more vulnerable we feel in tough situations, and the more we have to think about things that make us sad, like—”

“I don't get to go on my fucking date!” I yelled.

I was up on my feet again. Fezzik raised his hands like he was ready to restrain me.

“Are you happy?” I said to Meeki. “I should be pulling into Salt Lake right now, but I don't get to fucking go. Because
my dad decided that hanging out with him and my stepmom is more important than playing
Arcadia
with my friends. So I have to come here where the classes suck shit, the bullies are worse than they are in school, and some kid is so obsessed with me that he hides an iPod Touch in my suitcase so I lose a hundred thousand points, and instead of going on a date, I get to listen to some
asshole
who won't get off my fucking back because she thinks I'm a douche bag . . . when really I'm just really, really sad and need video games to pass the days until I can move out of my house.”

There was a glimmer in Meeki's eye. Almost like she understood. Almost like I'd touched on common ground between Link and Dark Link, where our experiences were the same.

The glimmer quickly faded.

“Boo. Hoo.”

I sucked in my breath. “Fezzik,” I said, “can I go die in my bunk, please?”

Fezzik opened his mouth to respond, but then nodded instead.

I climbed the bunk ladder and collapsed into bed.

“Why don't we go to the art room?” Fezzik said to Meeki. “Give him some space.”

They got up. The lights went out. As the Nest door closed, I heard Fezzik say, “Soup hid something in his suitcase? That doesn't sound like him. . . .”

The door clicked shut. The mockingbird sang for six o'clock. One hour until my date with Gravity. I got out of bed just long enough to smash the clock to pieces.

F
or the first time since being committed to V-hab, I lost track of time. The star stickers glowed a sickly green above my bunk. The air conditioner grumbled.

I lay on my bunk for I don't know how long—staring at nothing, feeling nothing, just imagining lovely, beautiful Gravity, lips painted a sensuous red, sitting alone at Mandrake's.

Then I felt the familiar pat of a giant hand. My head rolled to the side. Fezzik smiled. Or at least tried to.

“What time is it?” I asked.

He looked at the shattered clock. “I think it's a little after seven.”

My heart broke. I'd missed it. I had just stood up the loveliest girl I'd ever met.

The star stickers glowed. The universe meant nothing.

“Miles . . .”

“I don't care right now,” I said, pulling the sheet over my head.

Fezzik continued anyway. “There are lots of problems with this facility. I personally don't think G-man understands what it's like to struggle with life so much that
Arcadia
becomes your only escape. Being the Emperor got me through some very dark times. . . .” He gave his head a little shake. “Also, games are meant to be voluntary, and gamified therapy seems to bring out the worst in some.”

We both pretended he wasn't talking about me.

“But that doesn't mean you and I don't need this place. As fun as video games are, they have given us unrealistic expectations about the world.” He went quiet, like he was considering whether or not to tell me something. “I quit games so I could live. But getting turned down by Sue felt like dying.” He breathed deeply. “Miles, why would we ever want to pursue something where, with just a little bit of effort, success was guaranteed? There's a reason we play
Arcadia
instead of
LEGO: Batman
. It's the challenge that won't let us take good things for granted.”

I pushed the sheet off my head. “A little bit of effort? I worked my
ass
off these last few days.”

Fezzik nodded. “That's what I mean by unrealistic expectations. You can't work hard for four days and expect everything to just fall into your lap.”

I rolled and faced the wall. “I could if G-man would let me go.”

“Maybe,” Fezzik said. “But you can't blame him.”

Yes, I could.

“I can't say I approve of how you treated your guildmates this week,” Fezzik said. “But who knows? Maybe a fair maiden—er, young woman would stop you from going back to
Arcadia
. Maybe she would bring out the best in you.”

“She would have,” I said, picking at the wall's gray paint.

Fezzik sighed. “And there she is, just sitting at that restaurant, all alone.”

I turned back over. “Are you trying to make me feel worse?”

Fezzik smiled. “I don't want you to give up on living in the real world just yet.” He held up a cell phone with a
Final Fantasy
case that showed Cloud holding a Buster Sword. “I think you've been knocked down enough. Time for a limit break.”

“Fezzik.” A hearth fire crackled to life in my chest. “Best
Final Fantasy
reference
yet
.”

I sat up and took the phone.

“I already looked up Mandrake's number,” he said. “You just have to press call.”

The button glowed green on the phone's screen. Gravity was one touch away. I adored Fezzik in that moment. The Emperor of
Arcadia
had swooped into real life and saved me at the last possible second.

“I got ya covered,” he said, and blocked me with his giant frame so I couldn't be seen from the Nest door.

I took a deep breath.

I pressed the green button.

It rang.

Contact from beyond the infinite sandbox.

With each ring my heart doubled its speed.

“Mandrake's,” a girl's voice said. I could hear the bustle and clink of a busy restaurant in the background.

“Um, hi.” My voice shook. “This is a really weird question, but is Serena there? Black hair. Sixteen maybe? Sitting at a table alone?”

“Oh yeah,” the hostess said. “I know Serena. She comes in all the time. Let me see if she's here.”

The line muffled and went to hold music.

Fezzik looked over his shoulder. “Deep breaths.”

I took his advice. It didn't help.

Panic swelled. The exit light buzzed. Fezzik's nostrils whistled. What was I going to say? What would be my excuse? Should I tell her about V-hab? I'd been so anxious to call, I had pressed the button before thinking this through.

As if reading my mind, Fezzik said, “Tell her you were injured in a car crash.” He nodded at my shoulder. “It isn't too far from the truth.”

I smiled. The music cut. My heart leapt. The phone crackled and fumbled.

“You still there?” the hostess said.

“Yes,” I said.

“I don't see her. I don't think she's been in here tonight.”

“Oh . . .”

I looked at the phone. Seven fifteen. Fezzik's eyebrows wrinkled.

“You want me to tell her who called if I see her?” the hostess said.

Fezzik heard and shook his head.

“Um, no thanks.”

I hung up.

Fezzik took his phone. “She's just running late. Making herself extra pretty for ya.”

“Yeah, probably,” I said. I hoped.

“I have to go make sure the Burds are set up at the Feed, then I'll come back and we can try again.”

“Thanks, Fezzik.”

He left the Nest.

I sank back into my pillow. I began to play with the idea “what if?” What if Serena wasn't there when I called back? What if she had stood me up? Had she pretended not to have a phone or a Facebook account in order to get away from me at the car wash? What if she never liked me at all and I really was a pathetic loser that she'd taken temporary pity on, and all of my effort this week had been for a girl who didn't give a damn about me?

Then again, she had laughed. A couple of times. That had been real . . . right?

The green glow of the star stickers grew nauseating. I remembered standing alone at the airport the last time my mom had no-showed on me . . . watching the crowds, hoping
each new face would be hers. My insides got that feeling Aurora described as curdled milk and skinned knees.

If I'd been nervous when I'd made that first call, it was nothing compared to when Fezzik returned. Suddenly I was terrified of that phone. It was no longer a matter of what I was going to say to Gravity. It was a matter of whether I'd get to say anything to her ever again.

“Round two,” Fezzik said, handing me the phone.

I pressed the green button.

The phone rang.

He gave me a thumbs-up.

“Mandrake's.”

“Hi. So sorry. Me again. Did Serena make it there yet?”

“Um, let me check.” The hostess sounded annoyed. “It might be a minute. It's really busy.”