SAVE POINT 36

Loading One Nerdy Side Mission...& Girl Problems 101...101%

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Dormouse

I'm sweating.

I hate it when I sweat—when I get like this. It's like everything clogs up in my body like a shower drain that's not draining anymore...just a weak, slow spiral that doesn't even do half the job.

...And, usually, this entire fiasco of a situation is just a minor inconvenience on the list of things I can't do today unless—

Damn, it, unless it's in front of Maude.

I lose all motor skills, all ability to use my tongue or voice and, sometimes, it's so bad that my left eye starts twitching.

Uncontrollably.

Yeah, it's weird. ...And I feel like even more of a freak when it's happening, thanks for asking...

...And that whole picture probably makes me look like a stretched out, pale version of a Pablo Picasso cartoon that the girl will barely glance at before definitely wanting to turn it off—one push of a button and a guy like me is zipped into black oblivion with no chance, whatsoever, at redemption. Usually, I just end up standing there, sweating, in front of her like I'm wearing a turtleneck in July and too busy to talk while I'm searching for something else to look at and turning the color of a brilliant, brick, Crayola crayon. That's typically when I start praying to every God I don't know while simultaneously hitting myself mentally over the head with a baseball bat so...

Needless to say, I have a good indication of how this is going to go; the simulation's been run, as they say.

This is a simulation, in and of itself. It's a side mission; I know this, so why is the damn game system so great at messing with my brain???

'Cause Maude looks real.

I can nearly feel the heat coming off her pale skin—so close to my own body as she walks towards me.

Strands of her blonde hair blow backwards, delicately, off her shoulders.

I catch a whiff of her perfume as she breezes straight by my face and takes the place in line right after me.

I think it stops my heart.

And lungs.

Simultaneously.

How am I supposed to compete in field training when I'm holding my breath? ...My face feels both flushed and drained of color. How do other guys do this so easily?

—Act normal in front of their crush?

—Confidently ask them out?

It seems like I'm already miserably failing at both of them...

"Okay, we'll start," the instructor calls, bracing his hands on his hips over a wide-legged stance in front of all of us.

"Wait—"

It's Maude's voice.

I turn.

And melt.

Goddamn this girl!

She's got her hands over her head, slowly wiggling out of her t-shirt, pulling it slowly over her blonde head. Till she stands there, only in a pink sports bra and her black jeans. Her abs are tight and sculped—as I would have expected—and her boobs—

Damn it! This is a personal moment; I don't want to share it with you!

"Everyone at attention," the instructor barks, making my dazed head spin towards him, "We are going to do fight sequences today in partners. I'll group you based on the line here. Maude and Dormouse, you'll be first. Step over here, please."

...His words are the second most terrifying bit of information today.

I have to fight...Maude???

In front of all my classmates?

"Jeez, this side mission just won't take it easy on me," I mutter out of the corner of my mouth to Rosabella before stepping forward, onto the blue mat the instructor had gestured to.

"Choose your weapons," the teacher tells Maude and I, nodding at a wall behind him filled with glinting metal and different size bows. ...But my weapon isn't listed there. I'm not like the majority of the others in this line up. My fingers are my weapon. My brain.

Maude, unfortunately, does find a weapon among the lot. She chooses a light and deadly-looking Katana from the wall, swishing it in front of her to test the weight of it.

I swallow. It looks too sharp.

"You forfeit choice of a weapon?" the instructor's eyes bore into me.

I nod.

Curtly.

Doesn't he know me by now?

"Begin!" the man yells.

And Maude locks freezing, blue eyes with me. Is it hot in here, or is it hot in—

She lunges forward, her blade slicing through the air centimeters from my shoulder. I dodge.

I see her setting up another attack.

My fingers are quicker. I swipe a code box up and begin typing, inserting a black hole under her left foot, hitting 'enter'.

Off balance, she pitches backwards, her leg stuck in the hole in the concrete. Her face scrunches up in shock and utter confusion that gives me an unexpected boost of serotonin.

Who's the tough guy now?!

...But she's quicker to recover than I would have imagined. With a scream of rage, she brings her sword up over her head, swiping it down—

Metal clangs against cement as I jump out of the way.

Thank God for agility 80.

"Aim to disable your opponent only," the instructor warns for the side, "we don't want any accidents..."

My fingers hurry in the air again—

Every expert slash of the girl's sword is met with a glass wall between her blade and me.

One time.

Two times.

Three—

Sweat beads on my forehead. There's too much pressure. Everyone is staring, and Maude's making excellent headway. She's the best swordsman in the class. Strands of blonde hair stick to her forehead too; her lips are pulled in a grim line of determination and frustration.

My glass wall flickers, glitching slightly. I won't be able to hold this shield for much longer—

I need a new tactic.

Swish.

Pain.

In my ankle.

Shocked, I looked down to see my pants-leg sliced open and blood dripping from a cut on the skin there—

"Huh!" Maude shoves me back in the chest with a grunt. For that second, her face is so close—like I could kiss her. Her skin shines from the effort of the fight. Her lips are plump pink—

Then, I fall backwards.

In slow motion.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

My back thuds into the concrete.

Hard.

I hit my head.

Ouch.

Worse, I hit my ego because the little blonde girl stands over me, her huge sword aimed at my neck for a kill shot she can't legally make in this classroom. And I'm on my ass—technically on my back—trapped. Breathing heard against a blade that's conquered modern technology.

Shit.

So much for looking like a badass guy...

"Winner!" the instructor proclaims loudly—his voice screeching in my ears like a siren—"Break! Take a break you two."

And the sword's gone—from my neck. And, instead, a tiny, white hand is extended in its place. Maude's hand. As she looks down at me through her blonde hair falling over her cheeks. The girl wants to help me up? It's...sweet of her.

I way too gladly take that hand.

It's as I expect—firm grip, soft fingers.

I bounce upward, trying to appear like every muscle in my body isn't as completely liquid as they feel.

"Good fight," I try. But she's already turning away with a half-grin and a hand, tucking her hair behind one ear.

I imagine myself doing the same—using my fingers to gently tuck the strands of her long locks carefully behind her ear for her. ...How she'd look, smiling shyly up at me...

...Oh my God, I'm standing here grinning like a numbskull, and she's walked away...

Rosabella is up next to fight. She moves towards me, punching me in the arm softly and nodding at Maude who's now ducked outside of the parking garage to probably cool down. "Go get her, tiger," she encourages.

But, somehow, it only makes my stomach queasier.

Time.

I probably don't have that much time.

Code junkies, like me, know that side missions time out if you don't complete the objective within a certain number of minutes.

...Maybe I can hack into the code and figure out a way to see what kind of time I have to ask Maude out. It could be days! ...or it could be minutes.

I quickly excuse myself from the group of students, ducking into a corner and clandestinely swiping open the code box again. My fingers dance over the air until I tweak it just right—

A watch appears on my wrist.

Cool.

...Except the neon, red letters glowing on the watch's digital face are NOT cool:

0015

15 what? Days? Hours? Minutes? Seconds?

My nervous eyes keep bouncing back to the unmoving number. ...Well, it can't be fifteen seconds, because it would have changed by now—

0014

Minutes.

It's fucking 15 minutes.

My heart jumps to my throat.

I have to ask Maude out—I have to flipping ask her out basically right now??????!

No.

No, I can't do it.

...I can do it.

This is just a stupid game—a simulation. I can do this.

I bite the inside of my cheek and clench my fists at my side, steeling myself like I'm on a spaceship rigged for going to the moon and we're mid take off. Because this is my moment. I can either do this and be a hero in my own eyes, or I can be what I've been used to being my whole life.

A downright chicken.

Freaking Chicken Little.

Constantly scared the sky is falling.

Not today, Chicken Little.

My boots snap over the concrete floor as I move towards the toppled cement beam outside—to follow the girl. I barely can find the breath to stand after ducking underneath it, but, when I do, I see that this is my moment.

Maude stands there.

Outside.

Alone.

Her back towards me and her arms crossed over her chest, looking up at the vast, rotting skeleton of the office building I once called home here.

"So...that's like coding or some shit?"

I start out of my comma and realize she's talking to me—Maude. The girl peeks over her shoulder in my direction. I take the biggest breath I can manage and two steps forward, so we're side by side, staring up at the office building together.

"Yeah, it's pretty simple really," I wheeze, my nerves definitely getting to me and making this more difficult, "It's just like building blocks that you can rearrange to make what you want..."

Make what I want...

And, suddenly, I get a brilliant idea.

I have to ask this girl out, but, right now, this time and place doesn't feel right. ...But my watch is still counting down:

0013

And I only have right now...

What if I change the code of "right now" and make this better?

More romantic?

"...Actually," I start, turning towards the girl as my voice wobbles crazily—am I really doing this? Am I really going to do it?—"I can show you if you want."

She shrugs noncommittally, but not completely uninterested, "Okay. Your name's Dorpus or something, right?"

Dormouse.

I cringe.

"It's actually Dormouse," I correct. She doesn't even know my name? I'd been following her around like a puppy dog ever since we were small!

"Right," she laughs a little, "I'm Maude."

"I know your name," I rush—too quickly—"See?"

And my fingers flash over the air and roses appear.

Pink.

Plush.

A whole cluster of them tied with a ribbon.

And there's a sign right in the middle of the perfect buds, glowing red with tiny sparkles: 'Maude".

"Oh!" Her eyes get a strange glint in them.

Surprise?

...I can't tell if it's a good 'oh' or a what-the-fuck? 'oh'. How do other guys tell this?

0010

0009

My hands start trembling.

My heart is pumping furiously while my mouth is bone dry.

"Uh, actually, Maude, I can code a lot of things like...I can take us to the beach..." My fingers are at it again, working faster than my mouth or brain.

And, suddenly, we're no longer standing in the office courtyard, overgrown with ivy. Our toes are buried in deep, white sand as ocean waves bring frothy surf rolling towards us with crashing, gentle thunder. A beautiful, blue sky spans overhead. Just like I'd imagined. Who got an A+ in coding...yep, this guy...

"Oh my God!" The girl exclaims—clearly excitement and wonder this time.

She rushes towards the water, crouching to run her hands through it, "It's even warm!"

But my eyes dart to my watch.

0007

0006

My breath hitches.

And flowers start to grow upward from the sand, just like I'd input—delicate, white and pink buds opening, forming an archway shape. Then, blocks appear and stack to make an arched column—

0005

Wait—

What am I doing? I'm just asking the girl out.

This isn't a wedding or a proposal.

This isn't—

I've gone to far.

I've taken this too far again. I'm gonna creep her out—I need to backtrack!

0004

"Sorry!" I burst out.

I drop the code.

I hit enter without thinking.

And we're back in the office courtyard, the girl crouching by a pile of rocks that is no longer the ocean. She turns, confused, "What..."

0003

"Maude, I've been wanting to—" I stumble, my hands twisting together in front of me, "I mean, I wanted to for a long time, but I just never had the courage—"

0002

She's staring at me weird. Why is she staring at me weird? I have to get this out. I still have one rose preprogramed in the code. I hit enter again, extending the single flower in one hand towards her with the words I've been wanting to ask forever trembling on my lips—

"Maude, I—"

0001

"Dorrat, you're freaking me out," she blurts, backing away from the extended rose.

And, as I look down, I realize I have a sixth finger.

And there's an eyeball on the finger.

Blinking at her.

Whhhaaaa???

The code—

I hit the wrong button? Of all the times to mess up the minutiae—

0000

***Failure to Complete Objective. Side Mission Failed. Side Mission Aborting...***

NO!

And, just like that, the world goes to black.

And I'm standing back at the Hindu temple with a confused Rosabella squinting into my lowered face.

***Welcome Back to The Game GAME MAKER ROSABELLA & GAME WARDEN DORMOUSE***

***Side Mission Failed; No Points Awarded :( ***

Rosabella blinks at the pop ups that appear between us and my probably devastated face.

"Dormouse?" she prods, "...you okay?"

No.

I'm not fucking okay.

Maude couldn't even remember my name!

"I fucked it up," I whisper, barely audible, "I had one chance, and I fucked it up."