Page 36 of Don't Hate the Player
Stop saying you’re an idiot.
Jake felt his lips jerk up in an involuntary smile. That was what Emilia would say to him right now. He could feel as bad as he wanted, but he couldn’t call himself stupid. Everything about yesterday was the opposite of a lukewarm wave. It was a . . . ? red-hot . . . ?beach? A very cold pier. This metaphor was getting away from him. The point was, it was different. Emilia had pulled up next to him in the parking lot, and every moment with her was pure energy. He felt smarter and funnier; she was surprising and honest. By the time Jake got home, it was dark outside, but the world had never looked so colorful.
Especially the part when Jake thought she wanted to kiss him. He was wrong, obviously; she’d never want that when she was dating Connor Dimeo, but as far as mistakes go—whew. A whole thrill ride in the space of a few awkward milliseconds.
Jake let the energy of the impossible propel him to sit up straighter in his chair and turn his computer back on. He reached a leg out from underneath his desk and flipped the switch of his white noise machine with his bare toe. TheGLOlog-in screen glowed before him as he typed in his username and password. He didn’t have to practice with Unity tonight, but he wanted to hang out in one of the freestyle maps for a bit.
The first thing he noticed when he logged in was that his friend list showed no one online. Unity was asleep. Jake should soon be too. The second thing he noticed was that two seconds after he logged in, a DM request appeared on his screen.GLOwas good about knocking out spam, so random messages weren’t common on his competition account. He checked his list again to make sure no one was awake and clicked the request with trepidation.
Message from: beloveandabow. Accept?
Who the hell was beloveandabow? Something about the name seemed familiar albeit unplaceable in Jake’s memory. He accepted the message and almost fell straight out of his chair.
Jake! It’s Em. Found your account. Penny and Matt know & they’re cool but there was a video today. Need to keep tabs on it. If you hear anything from the gaming club, text me?
The following line of text would have frustrated Jake’s dad immensely. His son got a girl’s number from a video game.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Emilia, Monday
JAKE IS BETTERat this “secret friend” thing than I am. I gave him my phone number fourteen hours ago, and he hasn’t sent me so much as an emoji, but he’s managed to stay in contact all day without me even seeing him. First came the note on the library chair Penny always saves for me during our free period:Todd knows nothing. Then, after English, a scrap of notebook paper was shoved in my locker vents:Jaime and Evan, nope. I think my favorite one this morning was in biology, when I got to class and noticed that someone with terrible handwriting had scribbled a cypher only I would understand in the corner of the whiteboard:ENJ: All Clear.
How did he even get into the bio lab? I think Jake might be a ninja.
I don’t even know who the names are. I’m guessing they’re the students most likely to have watched the Instagram live before it disappeared. All that matters is that Jake Hooper is somewhere on the Hillford West campus going full rogue on the entire gaming club, and he’s doing it for me. I mean, he’s also clearly a drama queen and could just text me the damn updates, but even his reluctance to leave a digital trail that could connect us is . . . sweet? I’ll go with thoughtful. He’s careful, and I appreciate that.
Now that I’m at lunch, I half expect to find a sticky note with coordinates for a clandestine debrief in my cafeteria burger. I take a bite, and nope, just mystery meat and soggy tomato.
“Check your six.” Matt tilts his head up to get my attention from across the table. “He’s coming.”
I whip around to see if it’s true. Oh. He meant Connor, not Jake. I have a plan to convince him to join Penny’s ticket today at lunch, so of course he meant Connor. There’s no reason I should be disappointed about that. None at all.
“He’s late. Lunch is almost over,” Penny adds, annoyed. “You did tell him we had to talk to him, right?”
“I did,” I confirm. “And I asked him to come early, so I don’t know what that’s about.”
While I’m talking, a pair of chilly hands wrap around my face from behind.
“Hey, girl,” Connor’s familiar voice whispers in my ear. I’m sure it’s supposed to be sexy, but the deep weirdness of Connor’s growing expectations after only two dates is starting to grate on me. Also, if he presses his fingers on my face any longer, he’s going to smudge my makeup.
“Hey,” I answer and peel his fingers away from my hard-won lash volume. “It’s halfway through lunch; where were you?”
“You said you wanted to hang out, so I drove out and got you something,” he explains grandly, then drops a crumpled paper bag on the lunch table in front of me.
I dig into the bag and pull out—joy of joys—a plastic tub with two half-melted scoops of bright green matcha ice cream. That explains the cold hands. Penny has the decency to hide her smirk by looking down and letting her braids make curtains over her face. Connor slides onto the bench next to me and looks beyond happy with himself. How am I supposed to eat like this? Serious question, I don’t have a spoon.
“Thank you.” I feign all the enthusiasm I can for two green, sludgy lumps. “I’ll wait until it’s all melty and drink it like a milkshake.” Penny likes ice cream like that because she’s an alien.
“So what’s the group meeting about? What’s the tea?” Connor asks.
Penny recovers from behind her hair and raises an eyebrow at me. I nudge Matt with my foot under the table since I planned on him easing Connor into the idea.
“We’re talking about the election, man,” Matt begins cheerily. “I’m Penny’s new campaign manager.”
“That’s great!” Connor reaches across the table and claps Matt on the shoulder. “Making headway with the theater girls, that’s dope.”
Penny locks eyes with me across the table. I know, girl, I know. He’s still a good choice for VP.
