SAVE POINT 73
Loading...One Day Earlier...Inserting Nerdish Humor...100%
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Dormouse
They say you're supposed to make your girl omelets or pancakes the next morning...I think. To be frank, this is kinda all new to me, and I'm scrambling—maybe losing my mind a little—trying to orchestrate this like one of those chick flicks for Mimi and still, somehow, play it cool.
Like this isn't a big deal.
Like I'm not out of breath, already sweating before anyone else around in this camp of tents is up. ...Before the sun is freaking up...
How do guys play it cool when this is so fucking hard?
Being 100% honest, this entire magic trick is probably easier with the right tools: an oven, a refrigerator, a toaster...a grocery store or coffee shop. But, out here, I'm tryin' to make a rabbit appear out of thin air. 'Cause I don't have a hat, and it's feeling pretty damn obvious and disheartening right now. So, no, in case you were wondering, there is no toast.
No perfectly sunny-side-up eggs.
And most certainly no stack of fluffy chocolate-chip pancakes, and, yes, I am drooling at that thought.
But my shaking hands just hold a Yoo-Hoo chocolate milk and a silver-wrapped package of Pop-Tarts.
And it's gonna have to work for the moment because apparently these nerds have the diet of unsupervised five year olds. ...Of course, it's the pot calling the kettle black. My own pack consists mostly of Snickers bars and goldfish. 'You're just not yourself when you're hungry.'
...I'm, also, not myself when I'm nervous. My hands tremble noticeably as I duck back in our borrowed yurt. Mimi's still asleep, her cheek smashed into the pillow—it's kinda cute really. And I let out the sigh I've been holding.
You, know, it's less about the food and more about the impression. Every colliding nerve in my body is so afraid that—after a dream-like night like last night—that the freckled girl's just going to roll over and...grimace.
Or make some excuse.
Tell me that it all was a mistake...a one time thing...a fluke. That's what my dry mouth and rabbit-spastic heart are afraid of. That she'll roll over, blinking blearily at me and the food in my outstretched hands and say 'that's—'
"—really sweet of you."
No, that's not my mind.
And, no, it wasn't in a condescending ton—why am I overthinking this right now?!
That's actually what she says. Mimi. In a normal-Mimi, entirely affectionate and appreciative tone a few hours later. The covers rustle as she shifts upward, wiping the sleep out of her eyes with a hand. "Oh my God, I love chocolate milk," she admits, turning the bottle over in her hands. "And Pop-Tarts?!"—is she feigning being impressed or stroking my ego or both?—"Two to share." She rips open the pack, handing one to me.
Grand Dragon, we really are soulmates.
Plus, the Pop-Tarts are strawberry with those little flecks of sprinkles in the white icing; this is a win all around.
"Sooo..." she runs her fingers through her hair, "Last night..."
Her words are so drawn out. Does she want me to finish the sentence? Not finish the sentence? Is she going to finish the—
"Happened," I gulp inconclusively.
And immediately start hiccupping. Because, apparently, I gulped in air as well.
Mimi laughs—a bubbling noise that kicks into snorting as she clutches at her stomach.
"You!" she holds her side, clearly enjoying this and gasping the word between chortled giggle fits, "You are adorable when you're all worked up."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
'Adorable.'
I ponder the word with, admittedly, the hesitance of a grown man...and the understanding of one who's been mistaken for a twelve year old—does that age keep getting younger the more I think about it?
'Adorable.'
The Pop-Tart breaks off in my mouth with a snap, exploding wild strawberry on my tongue which strangely isn't as comforting as it should be right now.
'Adorable?'
Maybe not the worst thing anyone has been called before...
Rumble.
It's not my stomach.
It's the ground under my feet—what? My eyes dart up to Mimi who has her Pop-Tart paused halfway to her lips and a general look of 'what the fuck' that matches mine.
"I'm no seismologist, but that sounded like an earthquake," she murmurs.
And that's it.
The attempted chocolate milk breakfast situation is over and done with and we're throwing off sleeping bag blankets and she's tugging on clothes... Hurriedly we duck out of the tent and nearly run headlong into—
Fanboi.
...Who, by the size of the purple bags under his eyes, looks like he didn't get a wink of sleep last night. He brushes by us hastily, his dreads flying in the wind kicking up, "It is way too early for the world breaking apart—"
"It's noon." Maude's acidic retort comes from near my shoulder. I whip around, blinking at her. Where did the girl come from—
"The world breaking apart?" Mimi blurts, her eyes narrowing as she pushes a strand of hair out of her face.
Fanboi nods, "I'm gonna kill those jerks, starting with SnapeSarcasum_105." Both of his hands clench at his sides as he marches away from us.
I scrabble to keep up, trying to do the same mentally. I trail on his heels, "Fanboi, what's going on—?"
"What's going on is the pumpkin-head villains of the nerd world are pinned starkly against the Frodo Baggins and Eragons and, unfortunately, Darth Vadar and Gollum are winning right now." The guy's face is a mess of wrinkled concern and annoyance.
"I don't get it," Maude jogs behind us, "Someone speak English—"
Fanboi raises one eyebrow, "If you wanna find out why the world is cracking in two, pretty chicky, I suggest you start with the Slytherin-loving crowd—something is seriously wrong with them."
Maude runs a frustrated hand through her silky, blonde hair, thinking, "...Wait...Slytherin. Isn't that like Harry Potter or something? We're talking about..." she pauses, "...a book?"
The beach bum guy looks personally offended, "We're talking about an epic." He turns, incredulously towards Mimi and me, "She doesn't get it?"
"I just told you that," Maude spits back, snapping her gum at him.
Fanboi turns on her like a snake, stooping a little like he's suddenly speaking down to a first-grader. His dreads shake he's so perturbed, "How about this? Will you get this? The normal kids around here are diehard fans of the ITDM book. They hate Joy—that pink-haired bitch—rightfully. They have t-shirts x-ing out her face, okay? It's supposed to be a funny thing. That group over there? They have different t-shirts, look. They basically worship Joy and Prickgada, got it? Something is seriously fucked up in their heads, and, as far as can tell, they're the reason for the crack, massive fissure in the earth deal. It wasn't here when we got here."
"The—" Mimi starts, but she doesn't finish. Because our eyes all follow the end of Fanboi's pointing finger.
And we all see it at the same time.
The guy's not as tripped out as he seems.
A giant, gaping crack zig-zags across the meadow, towards the gloomy mountain range in the distance. It's dark edges greatly contrast the lush, yellow grass waving in the gusting wind. I grit my teeth. I've seen this before—not recently, but I've seen it—
"The source of the earthquake..." Mimi whispers, nearly reverently. I can almost see the cogs in her mind working.
"Were you not listening to a thing I said?!" Fanboi rages, throwing down his hands like he's the only sane one here. "Those jokers are responsible." He points to the group wearing green and black robes in the distance. "They weren't even supposed to be on the bus. No permission slips. They're not in my digital catalog list. I'd trade them all for a million Hufflepuffs and that's saying something." His eyes are wide and serious.
And Mimi, Maude and I look at each other and mouth it at the same time: 'Black magic'.
Holy fuck, this is black magic. The nerds are using creator magic not knowing that, in doing so, they destroy chunks of The Game world—hence the giant crack through the meadow. We've gotta stop them.
"We need to talk to them," I spout like I'm the leader of the team. Determination leaks off my tongue and into my stance. Where is all this fire and drive suddenly coming from? Maybe I got some sort of ego boost from last night? I've got no idea, but I'll take it.
Fanboi waves me and the others off, "By all means, have at it. Just don't expect a warm welcome. They're about as friendly as sabretooth cats on a freezing day—frigid bitches," he murmurs under his breath.
"Will you introduce us?"
I glance up quickly to find Maude back on her game. She twirls a loop of her hair around her finger, giving the man that doe-eyed, damsel-in-distress look that anyone with a set can't really deny...
"As though I want to stick myself in the eye with a needle," Fanboi complains but I see the blonde girl's charm working on him.
"Sure," he mutters finally, giving in and shrugging, "I've got nothing better to do than be chewed out by a group of wannabes. Sounds like a blast. Come on." He waves us half-heartedly forward.
And, per usual, I have no idea what I'm walking into.
I shove the rest of the pop-tart in my mouth, chewing but not tasting.
Well, this day's done a clear and simple 180 since I woke up.