“Hey, geek-breath!”

Finn Callahan saw the fast-moving soda just a second before it slammed into the glass window in front of him. It had been aimed at him, but he’d had just enough time to duck.

The Styrofoam cup hit the large windowpane and exploded, fizzing all over the red beard and roaring face of Magnus Maxite, the Breaker of Worlds.

Or rather, it splashed all over the window as the cardboard cut-out of Magnus Maxite was currently behind the window of the GameShop store where the twenty-two-year-old Finn worked. The Breaker of Worlds kept on snarling his cartoon-anime snarl, not appearing to mind the insult, but for Finn outside, it was the last straw.

“Hey!” He turned on his heel and saw the group of boys near the street, flipping him off and shouting abuse.

Welcome to Elsport. Finn sighed as he felt one of his hands curl into a fist at his side, the other still holding the burrito that he’d just bought for lunch—the soda-sogged, ruined burrito now.

“You got something to say? Come over here and say it!” Finn shouted and was met by another howl of laughter, along with the hot sting of shame. The largest of the boys mimicked his call, to be followed by more screeches and cackles.

Finn knew that there were too many of them. He’d been in tumbles and fights before in the foster homes and care homes he’d grown up in—it was unavoidable—but that had only ever escalated to one-on-one wrestling matches before a foster parent or group warden rushed in to break it up. This was one versus eight, with no warden to rush in and stop anyone from doing something they’d all regret.

It’s not like I’m much of a fighter anyway. Finn glared hard at the gang and knew he wasn’t going to do anything. Another wave of shame ran up his spine, making his cheeks burn under his tangle of dark hair.

“Finn!” A new voice arrived in the bluster of cold wind that echoed down the Elsport side street. The voice came from Finn’s boss and GameShop owner, Sam Robertson—or Sam-uel, as he preferred to be called. Finn suppressed a sigh.

“What have I told you about antagonizing that lot? Just ignore them, damn it!” Samuel said in exasperation, his own portly features flushing red over the spiffy blue vest that he insisted all workers at the GameShop wear.

The shirt sucks. Finn thought. And so does Sam-uel!

“It wasn’t my fault,” Finn said, holding up his drenched burrito as bits of jalapeno, hot sauce, and spinach leaf fell on the sidewalk.

“Ugh, gods!” The boss threw him a disgusted look. Samuel was a heavyset man, with glasses and a ponytail stretching the last bit of life from his receding hairline. You’d have thought that a cool job like owning an independent video game store, stacked full of exciting things for people to play, would make you pretty chill. That wasn’t the case.

“Just get all this cleaned up, and I don’t want any more trouble!” Samuel hissed impatiently. “I don’t have to tell you how lucky you are that I took you on without any references!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Finn felt his embarrassment turn into hot anger, but Sam-uel just groaned once more, turned, and flounced back inside, where the customers were doing their best to not gawk at the proceedings outside.

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“Yeah, I know what it means,” Finn grumbled as he did his best to wrap the burrito back in its paper and shuffled toward the door as the catcalls from the group of boys followed.

Finn was a foster kid. He and his sister Esther had spent their childhood in half a dozen private and group homes across Middle America before winding up in Elsport. Admittedly, that had been a few years ago, and they had managed to leave all that behind, for the most part. The small, coastal-nowhere town still felt temporary to him, though.

Which is why I don’t have any decent job references, Finn thought as he tramped into the shop, and why those kids outside are taking a keen interest in the new guy with dark hair and a love for Ramones t-shirts.

Whatever. Finn had work to do, and right then that meant getting the mop and bucket, which he found in the small closet behind the register. He filled it with water from the tiny sink in the back stockroom.

The GameShop itself was, admittedly, well-stocked—if a bit out of date. The walls were filled with boxes of tabletop games of every kind imaginable—classic puzzles to Asian classical games, epic monster battles to nation builders, and even some of the latest indie favorites. Another wall held card games, figurines, and plush toys, while in the center of the store were three long tables with popular games displayed—a fantasy battle game, a science fiction space Marine battle, and a large jigsaw-board fantasy game—with people’s character boards laid out around it, ready for conquest.

Usually, Finn was able to distract himself from his unpleasant past while he was in the store. It was a cool space, he had to admit. In addition to all the games and merchandise, the GameShop was filled with huge cardboard cut-outs of giant figures from geek lore. His favorites were a scantily-clad princess with her hair in side-buns, and a giant werewolf-man in mid-leap on the other side. There was even a little sofa and coffee table piled with the latest magazines—

And her.

Finn froze, his whole body tingling as he managed to feel just about one hundred percent stupider than a single moment ago.

He had no idea what her name was, but in all the excitement of the last five minutes, Finn had completely forgotten that it was Friday. Before closing. That was when she always came in—the cute girl with the mermaid blue-green hair, black clothing, and glasses who always brought in her latte, sat on the sofa, and read the magazines.

Samuel, of course, hated her. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t buy anything apart from a couple gaming zines every now and again. Finn didn’t mind. Of course he didn’t mind. He had been waiting for his moment to speak to her but hadn’t thought of anything clever enough to say yet, apart from ‘Hi.’

Damnit! Now I’m standing here with a bucket of water in my hands and a big blob of salsa on my shoes. Finn wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

Is this my life? Seriously?

“Finn, move it! Didn’t I tell you to clean that crap off the windows?!” Sam-uel just had to choose that very moment to open his mouth hole, didn’t he? Of course he would.

Finn grumbled under his breath, trying his best to look cool as he shuffled the bucket of water past the girl on the sofa. He glanced up and time froze as he found that she had her eyes on him at that exact moment.

It was a perfect moment of complete and utter shame for Finn. Like the epitome of Elsport, and his life so far, all rolled into one.

And then, the moment shattered as Finn was once again thrust back into his normal life as a twenty-something dropout going nowhere. A nobody. He looked away and didn’t say anything, instead shuffling outside with the bucket, silently cursing any gods that cared to listen.

At least the degenerates are gone, Finn thought as he started slopping the water over the pane of glass that would surely have gotten rained on sometime soon anyway. Finn was fairly sure that Sam-uel was just making him do this to punish him for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe for looking interesting enough to draw any attention at all.

The wind was picking up, and the sky overhead was turning gray as Finn worked. It was getting late already, and there was a biting chill to the air. The streetlights were starting to come on.

He had maybe forty-five minutes left in his shift, and it couldn’t end soon enough.

Brrring!

It was at that very moment that Esther chose to ring. Finn fumbled his phone out of his pocket and answered it.

“Finn, thank God I reached you. It’s a Pinocchio situation. This time it’s bad, really bad,” the desperate, teary voice of his sister said, and a sudden shiver ran down Finn’s spine.