Chapter 63
It was a cool 65 degrees with a light breeze, a perfect day for a soccer game, or at least that’s what Bobby had been told. The leaves on the trees were turning their fall colors, some gently fluttering down onto the field as the seven-a-side pick-up game continued.
The two dozen competitors met up in the center of the War Games Area, a cleared field about the size of four football fields, surrounded by dense forest. Bobby drank some beers that the Top Seed Production had provided. Upon hearing of a rumored birthday truce, The Show’s production team had jumped to action and set up a slapdash block party for what could turn out to be a top-rated episode for the series. Audiences just loved this type of schlock as long as there was plenty of drama to round out the feel-good party atmosphere. Hence, the beer.
Bobby was trying hard to let his guard down and connect with his fellow competitors and, hopefully, by extension, the audience. Still, he knew this would be a perfect opportunity for a surprise attack or some sneaky, underhanded tactics from his opponents despite everyone having agreed to a truce for Bailey’s birthday.
He looked around at the different groups of competitors, hanging out and enjoying the treasured downtime in various ways. In the true spirit of the holiday truce, one group was in the center of the field playing soccer, or as Hanzel kept reiterating…football. Athena was enjoying the challenge of trying to substitute the safe, production-provided ball with one of her own more explosive alternatives. One throw-in resulted in quite the surprise when the ball exploded into a puff of smoke when Artie tried to head it to a teammate. No one laughed harder than Athena at the prank. Bobby mused that it was sort of equivalent to someone laughing at her own joke. He didn’t really understand the appeal of most sports as he had been more into music and art since he was a kid. Escaping bullies and numbskulls was doubly hard when one tried to do so in their natural habitat: any sporting arena. Plus, music had the added benefit of drowning out all of the chaos going on around him. The more he thought about it, the more Bobby realized that music was one of the only true constants in his life. As he watched the game, he imagined an energetic and fun soundtrack. The soundscape shifted as he glanced away from the pitch.
Most competitors tasked with tower defense over the last month were now napping in the sun or against a tree. Joel was not an exception. Bobby’s roommate was snoozing away, drooling all over one of his teammate's packs.
A bunch of the All-Star women surrounded Bailey. This was no surprise. He figured Bailey’s performance on the leaderboard had intrigued the novice Heralds, who likely had expected their limited experience to have been a bigger advantage in the competition. But the wordsmith sat above them all in the top spot, even above Horizon. Bailey, herself, was relishing the experience; Top Seed on her birthday, everyone involved, halting a competition to celebrate her! What she seemed to miss, or to ignore, was that most teams were out of the running to win this challenge. It would come down to Team 1, Horizon’s squad, and Team 3, Bailey’s. And for Team 3 to even tie Horizon’s mega group, they would have to capture all three opposing fortresses in the next 24 hours: A feat that hadn’t been achieved since the first day of War Games, when Team 1 had somehow scored three points in just a few hours. It had taken deploying Joel on defense to stop the bleeding that day. Since then, it had been slow going. Across all teams, only 10 points had been scored over the next 28 days. Bobby suspected this truce was Lizzy’s idea. An attempt to virtually ensure her team’s victory. He had been against the idea but was outvoted by his team.
“You gonna just sit there the whole afternoon?” Jax asked, walking toward Bobby. It seemed Jax was subbed out of the soccer match and decided to try to encourage the punk rocker to join in on the light-hearted leisure activity. “I know you were against the idea of this whole celebration, but you are usually more, I dunno… fun?”
Bobby pointed at his head, “Used my powers a bit too much, so I gotta rest my noggin otherwise, they’d be chanting my name! Kidd Grimm scores! Gooooooaaaaaalllllllll!”
Jax laughed politely, “Hey, as long as you’re enjoying the downtime, that’s all that matters.”
Bobby shrugged “Don’t I always?”
Jax eyed him sideways.
“What? I’m fun!” Bobby faked outrage. “I’m the most fun fucking person I know!”
“Of course you are. What was I thinking? But seriously, go play. It’ll be ‘fucking fun’.” Jax mimicked Bobby’s phrasing.
“I don’t know. I’m still pretty tired from that weird-ass cartoon tower,” Bobby mused.
Jax raised an eyebrow “If you’re calling it weird, it must really have been out there,”
Bobby shrugged. “If you don’t believe me, just ask your sister.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Just as Jax was about to make another witty retort, their chat was interrupted by cheering from the field. Apparently, Lizzy had just scored. This was the true reason Bobby was viewing from the sidelines. If anyone were to break today’s truce, it’d be her. He knew she was hiding something, possibly many somethings. Plus, Bobby sensed that she was even smarter than she portrayed. Which was saying something. The girl wasn’t exactly humble.
Bobby finished the last sip of his beer and shook the can to show Jax it was empty. “Think I’m going to go grab another.” He stood up and brushed the lingering grass and dirt from his clothes. “Oh, and Jax… Stop worrying about me.”
Jax rolled his eyes “Alright, man. I give up.” He put his hands in the air in mock surrender.
Bobby walked over to a portable cooler that was filled with beer and soda. When he opened the door, it was completely full. Was this kegerator magic? The production team really knew how to cater a peaceful drunken block party. It seemed like whatever The Show wanted, The Show got. Since joining the competition, Bobby was constantly reminded of just how powerful each seat on The Council was. In his normal day-to-day, he never really thought of any of them, aside from during those “world-ending events.” But most of the time, they were these abstract figures—shadow puppeteers.
“You seem extra gloomy today,” Ashley said as Bobby closed the door to the magical kegerator. He really needed to improve his peripheral awareness. People were sneaking up on him left and right today. He looked up to see that Ash and Ralph seemed to be in the middle of a casual conversation.
“Well, it is my brand. Don’t want to disappoint the fans.” Bobby smiled as he refilled his cup. “What are you two talking about?”
“Oh, nothing. Ralph here has spent the better part of an hour regaling me with his War Games exploits. Likely in an ill-conceived attempt to impress me before asking me out.” She turned to Ralph, “That sound about right?”
“Spot on, gorgeous.” Ralph wiggled his eyebrows.
Bobby was definitely not going to move, speak, or do anything to interrupt this encounter. So far, this was the highlight of the party. Possibly the entire week!
“Well, can we hurry it along to the you asking me out part? I’d like to gently turn you down so we can both get on with the day.”
“Nope! Gonna play it hot and cold. I’ll make my move when you least expect it.” Ralph turned to Bobby, “Gotta keep ‘em guessing. Am I right?”
Bobby plastered on a fake smile and shook his head in response while saying, “Yeeeeaahhh. A hundred percent.” As the cherry on top, he threw his gameless buddy a thumbs up.
Ashley punched Bobby hard on his shoulder. “I thought we were friends.”
“What made you think that?” he joked while rubbing the soon-to-be bruise. Why does everyone keep punching him?
“Must be the alcohol,” she answered playfully.
As they chit-chatted, the birthday girl wandered over toward the group. Seeing her intended path, Ashley preemptively excused herself to go elsewhere, and Ralph followed, leaving Bobby and Bailey alone.
Bobby had actually been waiting for a moment alone with the current top-ranked competitor. The sun was setting, and he gazed out at the skyline that was lined by the silhouettes of the tops of the forest trees. You could see the full moon beginning to rise.
“Happy Birthday,” he said, not taking his eyes off the sky.
“Thanks,” she sat on the top of the kegerator and stared out at the sunset, mimicking her punk rock friend.
“You know we can’t win now. We basically forfeited to Team 1.”
“Maybe,” she peacefully replied. “But we are gonna try our best. And a tie would get us the same points. Probably.”
“Maybe,” he echoed. “So. How does it rank?”
“What?”
“In the pantheon of Bailey Baker’s birthdays. How does all this rank?”
She pulled a small piece of paper out of her pocket and looked at it. “I’ve never really liked birthdays.”
Bobby was shocked. He figured Bailey would love a day whose whole purpose was to celebrate her. “Huh. You are a woman of contradictions.”
She started to hand him the small piece of paper, but paused. “You know, I don’t typically show this to anyone. But, I feel this weird and specific connection with you. I need you to understand that my past is complicated.” When she stopped talking she finished passing the small notecard to Bobby.
It read:
My name is Bailey.
I was born on June 22nd.
Please take good care of me.
“Wow,” he responded. “I always imagined your life was sorta perfect. Idyllic even. ”
“Yeah. Most people do. I don’t like to telegraph this. You’ve mentioned that your childhood wasn’t exactly typical. I can relate.” Probably more than she knew. “I mean, I was adopted young, and I love my parents. So much. Not only did they take me in and love me, but they helped me and supported me when my powers manifested and started causing problems.”
Bobby handed the small card back to her. “You were lucky.” He felt a pang of jealousy rise within him.
“Yes. I was. You know, you deserve love, Bobby. Family. Just like everyone.”
“I appreciate you saying that.” And he did. “Anyway, Happy Birthday. Tomorrow, we go hard.”
“Tomorrow, we go hard,” she reiterated with a smile.
“Enjoy your day, team captain.” Bobby smiled back, grabbed another beer, and walked toward a secluded area of the green. He had so much to process. He had always felt a familiarity with Bailey. When she had revealed her power during the basketball game, he had even remarked on how similar their abilities were. And now it made sense. When he was sure no one could see him, Bobby reached into his pocket, grabbed his slim wallet, and opened a small compartment inside.
He pulled out a small card that read:
My name is Bobby.
I was born on June 22nd.
Please take good care of me.
“Happy Birthday to me.”