Page 20 of Jessica's Hero
It feels like a spark kindling into a flame, warming me from the inside.
Just as I’m about to ask her if she’d like to go on a short winter hike sometime, maybe just through Rockefeller Park or one of the smaller peaks in theCatskills, our server comes over to take our drink order.
Fortunately, he’s not rude like the hostess, so Jess’s smile is still intact when he leaves.
But something I’ve noticed whenever she talks to someone is the way her hand twitches up to her neck. Covering the scars there, at my best guess, though I wish she didn’t feel like she had to.
I’ve noticed them, of course—a pattern of faded pink hash marks on her neck and jaw. I don’t know where they came from and I haven’t asked. If she wants to tell me, I’ll listen, but they’re not something I think about. Scars have never been something that drew my attention. They’re just a part of our history, like the jagged scar on my leg from that time I fell out of a tree in middle school, or the puckered crease I got on my arm after a guy we were arresting took a shot at me.
But I get the feeling there’s more to Jess’s story than mine. Could I do some research to try and find out? Sure. Thanks to the police databases, I can find out pretty much anything I want. But that’s not how I want to find out. I want Jess to feel comfortable telling me herself.
Her hand is still hovering in the vicinity of her neck, and without thinking, I capture it with mine.
Surprise moves across her face, but she doesn’t pull her hand away.
“Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?” I ask. “Because you do. I just wanted to make sure I told you.”
The cutest smile curves her lips; hesitant but pleased. “You did. But you can say it again.”
With a grin, I repeat, “You look beautiful, Jess. And I’m really glad you agreed to come on a date with me.”
Our server approaches again, this time with our drinks in hand. He places Jess’s glass of Pinot in front of her, then sets down my bottle of beer. We make a quick toast, clinking glasses with a shared smile, and then I reach for her hand again, threading her fingers between mine.
“After dinner,” I start, “are you still going to show me your game?”
Jess blushes again. And shit, it really is the cutest thing. “Do you still want to? I wasn’t sure if you changed your mind.”
“Of course I want to see it. If it’s something you enjoy, I’d like to know more about it.”
“Well. I did install all the updates on the laptop,” she says. “So if you wanted, I could show you my character, and then you could make one yourself. And I could show you around some of the easier zones. Maybe take you on a simple quest.”
“Zones?”
“Yeah.” Enthusiasm brightens her expression. “So there are zones in the game. Each one is a different… theme, I guess. There are ones with forests, deserts, dungeons, cities… and they’re geared for different levels. So my character, she’s maxed out at the highest level. So she can go pretty much anywhere. But for you, I’d take you to a starter zone. So you wouldn’t get killed by the NPCs right away.”
“What are NPCs?”
“Non-player characters,” she explains. “They’re the monsters you have to kill on the quests. Or when I’m with my guild—” Jess stops. Her smile wavers. “Is that lame? That I have a guild and go on hours-long quests? I knowmost women my age are out doing social things. Or they’re taking care of kids. Or?—”
“It’s not lame at all. I think it’s really interesting.” Pausing, I take a small swig of beer. “And if you’re playing with other people, isn’t that social, too?”
Her lips lift again. “It is. Some of the people in my guild; we’ve been playing together for years. I’ve never met anyone in person, but it feels like I have. Like there’s this woman, Hazel, who lives in Vermont. She’s great. We keep talking about meeting up, but it’s just never seemed to happen.”
Before my eyes, hesitant Jess has been replaced by a confident one, bubbling with enthusiasm for a game she obviously enjoys.
And I like it. A lot.
This is the Jess I see when it’s just us talking. Sweet Jess who worries about my safety while I’m hiking. Thoughtful Jess who baked cookies to thank me for setting up her security system, even though I insisted she didn’t need to do anything. Intelligent Jess, who just got a promotion and talks proudly about her job, explaining how good it feels to know that her work as a medical technologist actually helps people.
Eager to keep her going, I say, “So, your character. If she’s the highest level, she must be pretty kick ass. What can she do?”
Jess leans even closer to me, close enough to see the flecks of gold and amber in her eyes and the adorable dimple in her right cheek. “She’s an undead rogue. So Nyx—that’s her name—focuses on stealth and close-up damage. She can sneak up on an NPC and stab them in the back before they realize she’s there.”
“Nyx?”
“Yeah.” Pink tinges her cheeks again. “Nyx is the Greek goddess of night. So I thought it was fitting. She’s beautiful, can travel through shadows,andshe’s supposed to be more powerful than Zeus. I thought that was cool.”
“It is,” I agree. “And I like it. Nyx.”
