Jane took deep, ragged breaths, on the verge of hyperventilating. She felt like the ceiling was descending onto her. Her vision blurred as her eyes filled with tears. It was always too good to be true. She hunched her head down, between her knees, as numbness coursed through her body.
“What’s wrong?”
Brian had returned.
Wordlessly, she pointed to the phone. Brian picked it up, saw the notification. Frowned.
“Seriously?” he said. “Not again.”
“Again?” Jane whispered. “Again?” She stood up, her voice rising. “How many times has she sexted you? How long have you been seeing her?”
Brian’s expression turned quizzical. “Seeing her?” he asked. “I don’t even know her.” He studied Jane. “Are you okay? Wait, what do you think is happening here?”
Jane held out her hand. “I want to see the whole conversation,” she said. “All of it.”
Brian shrugged. “Sure,” he said. He unlocked the phone and handed it to her. “It’s not what you think, I can promise you that.”
Jane studied the conversation, scowled as she tried to understand comments that failed to flow logically. “What is this?” she asked.
“It’s a group chat,” Brian answered. “Me and the players. It’s how we stay in touch. There’s always some nitwit who shares nudes he just got ahold of, even though I’ve repeatedly told him not to do that. Freakin’ Robbie, I don’t know what we’re gonna do with him.”
“Oh,” Jane said. She felt herself relaxing, but just slightly. “So, somebody sexted him, and he just shared it?”
“Oh, Lord, no,” Brian replied, smirking. “He’s never gotten a legit sext in his life. He’s forwarding a sext that another guy passed on to him. Or girl. Girls will spread them too.”
“Girl?” Jane asked. “I don’t get it. Why would a girl do that to a girl?”
“Beats me,” Brian said. “People are just weird. I try to stay away from all that. It’s ugly, and I don’t wanna have anything to do with it. I tell the guys to keep that stuff only on the slut page, not the group text.”
“Slut page?” Jane exclaimed. “What the heck is that?”
“It’s a private social media page where guys share nudes of girls. It’s sort of like a yearbook, but X-rated.”
“Do you have access to it?” Jane demanded.
“I’ve seen it once or twice,” Brian said. Nonchalant, no defensiveness. Jane sensed he wasn’t trying to hide anything. But she had to probe further.
“Let me see the slut page,” Jane said.
Brian shrugged. “Sure,” he said. He tapped out a text, hit Send, and Jane saw it show up in the group chat, a couple of messages below the sext that had floored her.
Within seconds, someone replied with a link. Brian tapped it, and the phone switched to a social media app. This one was different. Jane had never seen it before.
“What’s this social network called?” Jane asked.
“It’s called Dungeon,” Brian replied. “We can post things on it that we wouldn’t be able to in Vanilla.” He handed the phone to Jane, and she scrolled through the pictures.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. Nude pic after nude pic. The images were neatly categorized by girl, and the accompanying comments were sickening.
Jane suddenly stopped scrolling. Becca. These were the infamous pictures that triggered the visit from law enforcement. She had never seen them before. There Becca was, in various poses, with a sultry expression, the look of an insecure girl desperately trying to please her boyfriend. The pictures hit Jane harder than the others did because she knew what Becca had gone through after they leaked.
“I thought they searched everyone’s phones for this stuff,” Jane said.
“They did,” Brian replied. “But someone from the school administration tipped off the football team, so we were able to wipe our phones before the police showed up.”
Jane’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” Brian said. “The school depends on us too much. We’re a cash cow for them. All those games, the money from ticket sales and merchandise. They’re not gonna bite the hand that feeds them.”
Unbelievable, Jane thought. She scrolled through a few more. “Why don’t you tell them to take the page down?” she asked.
“Jane, there are some things even I can’t make them do, and scrapping this page is one of them. Besides, another one would pop up in no time. You have to understand where these guys are coming from. They’re under insane pressure. My college scholarships are a done deal, and I can take my pick of where I want to go. They’re struggling every game to be recognized by scouts. On the outside, they act all tough, but on the inside, they’re terrified they’ll become nobodies after graduation day. I wish I could take them all with me out of South End, and it breaks my heart that I can’t.”
Jane glanced at some of the comments.
fukn hawt
yea spread dem legz grrl
FINALLY this bitch nakkid!!!!
Jane found it hard to empathize with them. She thought about her assurances to Becca that her nudes would never survive online because she was underage. And yet, here those nudes were, all of them. On a slut page, visible to dozens. And no one was doing anything about it. “I don’t like the fact that you and the others have all these nude pics available to you like this,” Jane said. “You don’t have permission.”
Brian nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I try to remind myself that these are pics of human beings with feelings, and none of this should be taken lightly. People’s lives have gotten messed up over stuff like this. I’ve heard about more than one girl transferring to a different school district.”
Jane thought about Kara, her former best friend. She handed Brian his phone. A thought occurred to her. “What would happen if a picture of me appeared on this page?” she asked. “Would you be less interested in me?”
“No, not at all,” Brian said. He paused, rolled his eyes up to think. “I mean, I don’t think I’d like it either.”
“Why?” Jane pressed. “Why wouldn’t you like it?”
“I don’t know, I just . . . I guess I would feel sad that something so private and intimate like that was shared with a bunch of strangers, and not just with me. It would make me feel less special, I guess. Maybe I’m just prudish that way.”
“Yeah, maybe you are,” Jane shot back.
Brian raised his eyebrows. “You just said you don’t like me having access to all these nudes of girls at our school. So, you’re sensitive about it too.”
Jane winced. “Yeah, but it’s, it’s not the same,” she said. “How come no one judges the boys who share all these pics that they’re not supposed to? Why are only girls slut-shamed?”
Brian sighed. “I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head.
Jane turned toward him. “Well, I’m not planning to sext anyone, including you, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“Good,” Brian said. “Unsolicited nudes are startling and creepy.”
Jane laughed despite herself. How was he so perfect?
She stepped forward, embraced him. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you, too,” Brian whispered back.
What happened next was a blur. They were embracing, then Jane realized they were making out on his bed. No one was in the house but them. His parents would be home late.
They were nuzzling each other, murmuring wordless nothings, and at that moment Jane felt something within her. This time was different. Images from the day flashed in her mind. Brian’s injury on the football field, accompanied by her rising panic. His wide, warm smile when she crushed all the competition in Death Match. His pure honesty and openness when she confronted him about the image. More than ever, she knew he was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And with that realization, all remaining reluctance melted away.
“Brian,” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“I’ve decided that I want you to be my first. Do you understand?”
“You have no idea how I feel about you saying that,” Brian said, stroking her hair, then her neck. “I can’t even describe it. When would you like that to be?”
Sometimes, he was too much of a gentleman. Jane took his hand and guided it along her curves. Gazed into his eyes, smiled sheepishly.
Brian’s jaw dropped open. Now he got it. “Ummm . . . I’ll be right back,” he said. He got up and walked out of the bedroom.
Jane lay there, confused. Had she done something wrong? Had she scared him away with her eagerness? She heard him rummaging around in another room, then saw him return.
Not empty-handed. Protection. She giggled, then asked, “Where did those come from?”
“Dad got them for me. Said he understood that quarterbacks have a different lifestyle.” Brian smiled. “He basically said, do what you need to do, just don’t knock anyone up.”
“That’s hilarious,” Jane said. “You have a cool dad.”
“Thanks.”
Brian was patient. He took his time exploring her body, sprinkling it with dollops of affection. Brian was generous. Her eyes rolled down to behold his head sandwiched between her thighs, and behind it, his muscular back as it flexed with exertion. Brian was attentive, continuously reading her sighs and twitches with expert precision. She was stunned by how smoothly he entered her. Just when it was starting to get good, Brian disengaged. Then reengaged, only to disengage again.
“You know what?” he finally said. “Let’s have a drink, loosen ourselves up.”
He disappeared, then returned with a bottle of wine, which they shared between them. Something about drinking straight from the bottle, then handing it to him, and hearing him sip and gulp, comforted her. Either that or the growing inebriation. When the bottle was finished, she gripped him, caressed the veined, velvety skin, marveled at how something could feel both so hard and so tender at once. This time, to her relief, he did not disengage.
To the world, they were the perfect couple. At the school formal, they drew everyone’s gaze throughout the night. The yearbook photographers asked them to strike various poses with each other. No other couples received such treatment.
Jane still talked with Becca, but she had grown comfortable with Brian’s massive crew. One day, they were all strolling through a park when it started to drizzle. Someone pointed across the street. There was a gap in the chain link fence for the Tasker Networks construction site.
“Let’s go!” he shouted, and the next thing Jane knew, they were entering the sprawling future campus.
Multiple buildings had been completed. Brian pointed at the biggest one. “That one,” he said. They tried the front door, and found it unlocked. Inside, the scent of freshly painted drywall hit their nostrils. They took in the sawdust sprinkled on the uncarpeted floor, the door frames without doors. Not a soul in sight but them.
They headed up the stairs until they reached the rooftop. The rain had lessened significantly, and they took in the view. In the distance, Jane could make out the entrance to Arkade. Squinting, she made out the tag line: “Game On!”
The kids were chattering about Tasker.
“This place is gonna be massive once they finish it.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. You can see everything from here.”
“What is this building even going to be used for?”
“Don’t you know? Cloud stuff. Basically, where our emails will be stored forever, even after we’ve deleted them.”
Everyone laughed. The rain was resuming, but no one wanted to head back inside. Streaks of sunlight struck the rooftop.
“Look, a rainbow!” Jane said, pointing. All heads immediately turned toward the spectacular arc on the horizon.
“Well, whadya know?” Brian exclaimed. “Looks awesome.”
“Come on, guys,” Jane said. She started marching toward the rainbow, and everyone fell in line behind her. “We’re walking on the cloud, toward the rainbow.”
Jane headed all the way to the edge, then turned back and smiled at the others. All smiled back, except one. He was a security guard, and he had emerged from the stairwell while they were preoccupied.
“Oh, shit,” Jane whispered.
The other kids turned around, saw the security guard, and froze. Several tense seconds passed.
The security guard cleared his throat. “This is private property,” he said. “Construction is going on, and it’s not safe. I’ll have to escort all of you off the premises.”
They trudged back to the gap in the fence, the security guard at their rear. Once they were back in the park, they formed a semi-circle and Brian stood before them, as if poised to deliver a lecture.
“Worth it,” he said, and everyone laughed.
Jane loved how unflappable Brian was. It was like nothing could faze him. She knew he loved her to death. That should be enough. She tried not to think about the fact that their lovemaking was lacking. He had started to play romantic ballads on the speaker, baby making music, as if that would help. They always drank beforehand, which seemed to make it easier, but she hated how she felt the following morning. She found herself avoiding physical intimacy, partly because of the hangovers, and partly because she sensed he was avoiding it too. Nothing turned her off more than the subtle awareness that she wasn’t being lusted after.
One night, after the latest subpar copulation, Jane started watching a speed run on her phone. Intrigued by her Death Match sweep, she had started exploring video games. Brian suggested a few hot titles. Instead of jumping into the games, she found herself studying videos of expert play. One title had a single-player mode with a storyline, and she watched speed runs where players attempted to beat the game in the shortest possible amount of time.
“Who taught you how to do that?” Brian asked.
“Do what?” Jane said.
“Study video like that.”
“I don’t know. I guess the best way to learn it is to watch the best in action.”
Brian snuggled close to her. “Our coach makes us watch game video. My teammates don’t like it very much, but I think it’s great. I’ll watch the pros too. You have no idea how much time I’ve spent watching Tom Brady clips.”
At last, after hours of watching video, Jane dipped her toe into the gaming world, exploring the various genres she was now acquainted with: RPG, FPS, RTS, TBS. She quickly realized what she loved and what she loathed. She preferred controlling a single character rather than a horde of minions, so real-time and turn-based strategy were out. She liked matches that were self-contained so that the players would start from scratch each time, as with chess. Long narrative slogs with complex quests required too much of a commitment, so she avoided role-playing games. Also, the storylines bored her with their wooden dialogue and cliched plot points.
She wanted action, not story. And action she got, as she gravitated to games that were not unlike Death Match, the game that started it all. Of course, there were other genres, like puzzle games, but she avoided them. She craved competition with worthy opponents, not mindless distractions that grandmas were into.
As she immersed herself in the gaming world, the rest of her life faded, became secondary. During hangouts after football games with Brian’s team, she noticed that the other boys refused to play if she picked up a controller. Brian was always game, and he was good. He won the initial matches, but Jane soon overtook him as well. On his face would be that same wide smile, as he shook his head in disbelief at her prowess.
Jane started missing football games so she could practice more.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked Brian.
“Absolutely not,” Brian replied. “I’ll play my game, you play yours. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
In class, Jane found it difficult to focus. Her grades were slipping, and her mother, Andrea, became concerned.
“Jane, what’s going on in school?” Andrea asked. “You haven’t had a report card this bad in years.”
“Nothing,” Jane murmured, her nose buried in a social media thread about gameplay.
Andrea sighed, brushed back her jet-black hair, her forehead creased with worry. “Jane, talk to me. What’s going on? Is Brian taking too much of your time?”
“No, he’s busy with his own stuff.”
Andrea fidgeted. “It’s that video game stuff, isn’t it? I’ve seen you playing.”
Jane, irritated, put her tablet down. “Yeah, I’ve been playing a little more. So what?”
“Jane, this is your future. Your grades are your future.”
“I’m doing fine,” Jane snapped.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed. It was Brian.
“Oh my god,” Jane said, as she read the text.
“What is it?” Andrea asked.
“Brian’s in the hospital. Gotta go.” Jane quickly hurried out.
At the hospital, Brian smiled weakly at Jane as she entered the room. “Hey there, beautiful,” he said.
Jane embraced him gently, stroked his short brown hair. “How bad is it?” she asked.
“They said they’re not sure yet. The surgery wasn’t so bad.”
“Surgery?” Jane cupped her hand over her mouth. “You had surgery?”
“Yeah, it was a quick thing, don’t worry about it.” Brian’s eyes had a glazed look. His speech was slower than usual.
“Are you on painkillers?” Jane asked.
“Yeah, but still feeling some pain,” Brian said. He grimaced as he sat up. “Not fun.”
Just then, the room was flooded with Brian’s teammates, who had carpooled to get there. As they spoke to him in hushed tones, Jane studied their faces. She saw concern, but also stress. Brian had carried the team until this point. What would happen now?
Jane felt guilty about not being at the football game. Even though she couldn’t have prevented the injury, she should have at least been there for him. In the weeks that followed, he was discharged with crutches, and she helped him in every way she could. Carried his books, got his food, accompanied him to follow-up medical visits.
The visits were not cheery. The doctor glanced up from the X-rays with a scowl. Took off his glasses, set them onto his desk.
“You’ve been injured in that specific area more than once,” the doctor said. “The impact from last month wasn’t the first time. That’s what puzzles me. The pain from your previous injuries should have been enough to put you out for a while. How did you still keep playing?”
Brian looked down, mumbled, “I don’t know. Just turned out that way, I guess.” Jane knew him well enough to realize he wasn’t being forthcoming. Something was up.
“Well, it’s too bad you didn’t listen to the pain,” the doctor said, as he tapped something into a tablet. “The most recent injury is much worse than it would have been if you’d allowed yourself to heal properly.”
Jane thought back to earlier in the year, when Brian had taken a tumble. She remembered the limp, him sitting on the bench. Then trudging off to the locker room for a couple of minutes, returning. Being ready to play after halftime, the limp magically gone.
Back at home, she pressed him. “Did they give you pills to get rid of the pain?”
Brian studied the floor, said nothing.
Jane pressed him. “Painkillers? Opioids? What did they give you?”
Brian looked up at her, and she was shocked to see his eyes glistening with tears. “Oxy’s. Everybody’s taking them, on the team,” he whispered. “The coach knows. Heck, he encouraged it. Not overtly, but the pressure was always there. So much pressure to win…”
“Jesus Christ,” Jane said, her hands on her hips. “You deliberately blocked out the pain so you wouldn’t know how much you were hurting yourself? The pain is there for a reason!”
“I know, Jane,” Brian said, wiping his eyes. “I know. But when you’re in a close game, you’re not always taking a long-term perspective. You wouldn’t understand it.” He got up. “I’m going to bed.”
At school, the changes were noticeable almost immediately. Brian was still required to attend games. He sat on the bench in a polo and khakis, watching his former world fly by. Behind him, the bleachers showed patches of emptiness for the first time in two years. Fans no longer had a compelling to faithfully attend. At the school dance, Jane and Brian sat quietly, his crutches leaning against the table. Yearbook photographers kept their distance. Everyone kept their distance.
One day, Brian didn’t show up at school. Jane texted him. No reply.
After school, she knocked on his door. No answer. She knocked for a good ten minutes before he finally opened the door.
“Why weren’t you at school?” Jane asked. Seeing his crestfallen face, she asked him what was wrong.
“The school cut me from the team after they saw the most recent medical results,” Brian said. “The doctor said it’s a career-ending injury. His words. All the recruiters from the top colleges have stopped responding to me. They really had me hooked with all their fakeness. They really had me…” Brian’s voice trailed off, and he wept.
Jane took his hand, guided him onto the bed. Cuddled with him, saying nothing. Her presence was enough. All she could do was be there.
Brian no longer showed up at games. The coach had suggested he avoid them, to protect the morale of the team. Not that it made much of a difference. The team was on track to finish the season with more losses than wins. At lunch at school, Brian sat with Jane, as far away from his former tribe as possible. It was too painful for each side to behold the other. In the hallway, classmates who had previously smiled and nodded now looked past them. The one exception was Stacey, who made no effort to hide her smugness. Jane wanted to punch her in the jaw.
On social media, Jane posted new pictures less frequently. The average number of affirmations per post had dropped off a cliff. Most people ignored them, but every once in a while, a comment caught her attention.
team sux now
yea fr rll
why’d brian hafta take our wins away from us srs
After school, Brian went straight home and spent hours in his room. Jane kept him company for as long as she could, but it was hard. She could feel his misery seeping into her psyche.
Jane picked up her phone and called Becca. “Well, it’s about time,” Becca said. “I was thinking you didn’t exist anymore.”
“Haven’t seen you in forever,” Jane said. “How you been?”
“Cut the crap, Jane,” Becca retorted. “I know why you called. Your boyfriend is borderline suicidal, and you wanna know how to cheer him up, right?” Silence. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Okay, here’s what you do. Get him excited about doing something that doesn’t require too much physical movement.”
“But what would that be?”
“Could be anything. He needs an escape, something to make it easier.”
When Jane arrived in Brian’s room that afternoon, she saw him playing Death Match. His opponents were online. She plopped down next to him and started to play too. They were companions in the real world and the game world. Of course, in the latter they were trying to kill each other, but that made it more fun.
Becca texted her a link. Jane tapped it and saw a description of an athletic scholarship. She frowned, but as she perused the details, her excitement mounted. Esports. She had been oblivious that colleges offered scholarships just for playing videogames. She researched a bunch of applications, then sat down with Brian.
“You’re going to enter college on an athletic scholarship,” she said. “Esports athlete.”
Brian lifted his eyebrows, intrigued.
Part 4: https://medium.com/@phenomgamer/game-on-part-4-5e2644acfcbb
