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Chapter 4


Kayla Swain had it all: good grades, good looks, a rich stepdad, and a prized position in the most exclusive clique at school.

She was also deeply, deeply unhappy.

“This is wonderful!”

Elena’s squeal of joy made Kayla wince.

“I knew they were all losers. How could you not be with a stupid name like Skadi’s Wolves? I’m just glad they did my work for me and gave up on their own.”

Connor didn’t respond from where he sat on one side of the perfect cream-colored sectional couch, perpendicular to Elena. Kayla noticed he had the faraway look of someone watching a stream on their retinal implant.

“I mean, how dumb could they be?” Elena went on, ceasing her excited bouncing to lean back and cross her long, shapely legs. She was either oblivious to or just ignoring Connor’s lack of enthusiastic agreement. Probably the latter. Elena ignored a lot of things because in Elena’s mind, if she ignored it, it didn’t exist. Kayla would know, considering she didn’t exist half the time.

Like now.

They were at Elena’s house off Blairs Ferry Road, a huge six-bedroom estate house, even though the only people living in it were Elena and her mother—Elena’s father was almost always away on business. They were supposed to be prerecording some “slice of life” videos of Elena and Connor, the “perfect” gaming couple, relaxing and being . . . whatever. Cool, rich, sexy, and everything else enviable among stream celebrities. It was Kayla’s job to take the videos and craft the posts, which Elena would then approve. If she liked what Kayla wrote, Kayla was invisible. Just an obedient little cog in Elena’s machine.

If Elena didn’t like what Kayla wrote . . . well, then things got unpleasant.

Kayla’s stepdad owned a big PR firm based out of Des Moines, and Kayla had always had a knack for social media. When she’d first volunteered to help Elena manage her public image, she’d been desperate to please, not to mention a lot younger and more naive.

Now, though, she understood.

She was just a fly on the wall to Elena. Not even enough of a person to bother worrying about overhearing what Elena said.

“I bet they planned the whole thing ahead of time, just to get attention.” Elena examined her perfectly manicured nails as she spoke. “If they’re just going to lose anyway, they might as well get as many followers as possible while they’re trending. It’s what I would have done—if I was losing, obviously.”

Connor still didn’t respond.

Kayla glanced at the muted livestream minimized in the corner of her AR contacts—no implants for her, her father wouldn’t hear of it. I work in the industry, honey. I know what those things are capable of, he always told her whenever she’d begged him for implants like all the other rich kids. He didn’t seem to understand the stigma that came with something so gauche as AR glasses. At least he’d allowed contacts, even though they irritated her eyes.

Lynn and the rest of Skadi’s Wolves had long since escaped the camera drones of HotGamingCelebs’ livestream, but Kayla guessed Connor was watching the replay of the argument.

As soon as it had started some fifteen minutes ago, one of Elena’s clique had pinged them all.

OMG LK AT HGC STREAM!!! LMAO, LOSERS TOTES LOSING THR SHIT!!!!

Elena had immediately dropped everything—even though Kayla had been trying for a solid thirty minutes to get the perfect shot to satisfy her—and had been glued to her stream ever since. Kayla had caught most of it herself, and she winced in sympathy at the memory. Poor Lynn. Kayla didn’t know Ronnie Payne herself, but from what little she’d observed, he really did seem like a world-class jerk.

“Connor? Connor! Are you even listening to me?”

Connor’s ice blue eyes focused on Elena, his expression aloof.

“No.”

Elena uncrossed her legs and stomped her heeled foot. She actually stomped it, like a three-year-old child. Sometimes, Kayla could barely believe Elena was for real.

“Stop obsessing over Skadi’s Wolves and listen to me! They’re history! We don’t have to worry about them anymore. This is our big opportunity to cement our position. We need to go live now and say something impressive. Something about how, unlike some people, we won’t let the city of Cedar Rapids down, yada yada yada. Okay?”

“I don’t think so,” Connor said softly, back to focusing on his implant screen.

“What? Why not? You think we should be more aggressive? I’d love to, I just thought—”

“No, idiot. I don’t think Skadi’s Wolves are done for.”

Elena reared back, staring at Connor as if she couldn’t believe her ears.

“W-what did you just call me? How dare you!”

“You underestimate Lynn Raven,” Connor said, tone casual, almost thoughtful. “You always have. She’s not going to give up so easily.”

“I don’t care about Lynn Raven! She’s done for. She’s been humiliated on livestream. Everybody is going to drop her like the trash she is. No more ‘#teamravenstriker,’” Elena said in a mocking voice, then made a face like she’d just gotten a whiff of rancid milk.

Connor stared at her, his perfect face unreadable. Finally, he shook his head.

“Like I said, Elena: you’re an idiot.”

Elena’s eyes narrowed.

“Watch your mouth, pretty boy. You are nothing without me. I paid for all your equipment, I got you sponsorships, and my stream is making you famous. You were just a dumb jock before I picked you to be on my team and made you into something!”

“Maybe,” Connor said after a pause, then shrugged. “But I’m the one who knows how to lead a team and win this championship. Stream celebrities are a dime a dozen, and if Lynn started her own channel, she’d have double—probably triple—your followers overnight.”

He paused and gave Elena a long, evaluating look.

Kayla held her breath, for once praying not to be noticed. She wanted to melt into the background, but she stayed where she was by one of the patio windows looking over the Sevilles’ expansive lawn.

“You’re dead weight, Elena,” Connor finally said. “Especially after that stunt you pulled at school, confronting Skadi’s Wolves. Drama might up your viewing stats but looking like a complete fool on your own stream is a great way to lose any credibility our team has built.”

You looked like a fool because you weren’t there to back me up!”

“I didn’t look like a fool, Elena. You did. You know calling people ‘fatso’ and ‘cow’ is fat shaming, right? It’s not cool anymore. You need to get with the times.”

“B-but she is fat!”

Connor shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter. What works in high-school cliques isn’t what works in professional gaming. That’s what you don’t understand. If I’d realized how inept you were at adapting, I wouldn’t have made our deal.”

“I—I—” Elena’s mouth opened and closed like a fish trying to breathe.

“Maybe it’s time I reconsider it.”

“Y-you can’t do that!”

Connor’s gaze sharpened.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“You’re nobody,” Elena huffed. “You’re nothing without me and my influence. I’ll call my daddy and have him tell the college board to rescind that scholarship offer they made you. You only got it because of Daddy. You have to abide by my terms, or you’ll lose everything.” She crossed her arms and smirked at Connor, but Kayla could tell she was nervous. She kept shifting her head and shoulders like she always did when trying to make sure her hair was falling just right.

“A threat like that might work with one of the others, Elena. But I know what I’m capable of. Just because our deal expedited some things doesn’t mean I can’t do it on my own. My ARS team is first in the state. Or did you forget that part?”

Elena’s nostrils flared, and for a moment Kayla thought she was going to start yelling again. But then a seductive smile spread over her face and she scooted along the couch until her and Connor’s knees were touching. She laid a hand on Connor’s leg.

“Don’t be like that, Connor. We make the perfect couple. Everybody loves us! There are a lot of . . . benefits to being on my team, as you well know.” Her smile broadened and she shifted, conveniently tugging the hem of her blouse down a little further to show the lacy edge of her bra. Kayla nearly threw up in her own mouth, watching the display.

“We have the perfect opportunity to show a strong front. We could even play it up a bit for the livestream. You know how much stream fans love romance, right?” Elena scooted a little closer and her hand drifted up Connor’s thigh.

Kayla looked down, face heating. Being a fly on the wall was sooo awkward.

Next thing she knew, she heard someone stand, and her eyes shot up again. Connor was looking down at Elena, his expression as unreadable as ever while Elena had a pout on her face.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed our little arrangement, I think I’ll be leaving now.”

Elena’s eyebrows scrunched.

“What do you mean?”

“Always a pleasure, Kayla,” Connor said without looking over at the patio window.

Kayla jumped and blushed harder.

“Wait a minute, why are you talking to Kayla? I’m right here, Connor. Right here, hellooo. What do you mean, you’re leaving? We’re not done with our stream shoot yet.”

Connor ignored Elena completely and strode toward the door without a word. Elena jumped up from the couch.

“Wait! Where are you going? You didn’t mean—you can’t leave the team, if that’s what you mean. We have a deal! Is that what you mean?”

Still, Connor said nothing as he disappeared through the living room door, headed for the front of the house.

“Stop! Connor!” Elena hurried after him, and Kayla heard her continued yelling as it moved through the echoing house.

“I said stop! You can’t leave, you have nothing without me! If you even think about it, I’ll—I’ll ruin your name! I’ll dox you! I’ll say you raped me! You’ll never get any scholarships ever again! Your sports career will be ruined! Connor, stop!!”

There was the sound of the front door opening, then Elena’s voice faded further, as if she’d followed Connor outside to the front patio. Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how you saw it—her voice rose in pitch to a scream and Kayla could still hear her words as clear as a bell.

Fine! You disgusting pig! I never needed you anyway! I’ve got dozens of pretty boys just like you lining up to take your place! What the heck, I don’t even need them to be pretty! Anybody could take your place, you filthy traitor! Even that stupid boy from Skadi’s Wolves, Donnie or whatever, I bet even he could do your job! Do you hear me? You’ll regret this!!

There was the sound of a revving engine, then the squeal of tires and the engine sounds faded.

Kayla remained frozen by the patio window, mind racing. What should she do? Elena was about to come storming back into the house and, as the only other person there, Kayla knew full well who would bear the brunt of Elena’s wrath. Could she get away with disappearing and sneaking out the back? How badly would she pay for it later?

This was a nightmare.

The unhappy, sick feeling in Kayla’s stomach intensified as she heard the front door slam and the furious click-clack click-clack of Elena’s heels marching across the marble floor of the foyer.

Before Kayla could make a decision, Elena stormed back into the room. The cream rug muted the lethal-sounding staccato of her heels, but the quiet didn’t last for long.

“What are you staring at, you useless idiot!”

Kayla flinched.

“Um, nothing! I was just figuring out a better angle for the, uh, shot when, well . . . ” she trailed off helplessly.

“When what? What, exactly, do you think just happened?” Elena’s sharp voice cracked across the room and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“O-oh, n-nothing!” Kayla said hurriedly.

“That’s right, nothing, you little creep. Why were you standing there the whole time like some kind of paparazzi sneak, eavesdropping on our private conversation? If you breathe a word of anything that happened here—if I see a single mention of it show up on any stream, I will hold you personally responsible, Kayla! Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, of course. I won’t breathe a word!”

“You better not, you worthless lump. What are you even good for?” Elena yelled, switching tracks and picking up steam for a really good rant, just like Mrs. Seville did whenever they got in her way. The woman wasn’t often in the house—her many social activities and beauty appointments kept her out and about. But when she was there, they knew to make themselves scarce if they didn’t want to be lectured on their inadequacies or hear endless rants about Mr. Seville. “You’ve spent hours trying to get one measly shot and wasted all our time! I bet you’re why Connor walked out, because you’re such a massive waste of air and space. Can’t you do anything right?”

“I-I was just doing what you told me to, Elena. You didn’t like the first shot—”

“Because it was a worthless piece of garbage, just like you!”

Tears pricked the corners of Kayla’s eyes, but she blinked them away. You couldn’t show weakness in front of Elena, you only made it worse on yourself.

“Look, Elena,” Kayla tried, keeping her voice as calm and pleasant as she could.

“Shut up and get out of my house, you little shit! I’ll do my own posts for today, no thanks to you! You’re worthless. You’re all worthless! I have to do everything myself, just like always. Why am I the only competent person in this entire city?”

Relief flooded through Kayla. She grabbed her bag and was out of there like a shot, leaving Elena’s voice echoing behind her as the girl continued to rant at the empty room. Kayla’s own heels click-clacked across the marble foyer and she felt a sudden surge of loathing for them. She would kick them off the second she got home. They were uncomfortable and completely clashed with her personal style. She wore them because Elena told her to. In fact, every stitch she had on had been prescribed by Elena. Most of the clothes and shoes in her closet too. To be a part of Elena’s clique, you had to dress the part, or you weren’t allowed.

Usually, Elena called her an air taxi to take her home, but now Kayla would have to do it herself and linger awkwardly on Elena’s front porch until it arrived.

She couldn’t take that—she would wait at the front gate.

Kayla clacked her way down the stone steps of the Seville’s front porch and started off along the twisting driveway toward the road, hating her shoes, Elena, and herself every step of the way.

How had her life come to this? When was the last time she’d been happy? She could barely even remember a day when she didn’t have this queasy lump in her stomach, always making her anxious, worried what everyone—i.e., Elena—would think or say.

The last time she’d really been happy had been in sixth grade, when her mom had finally left her dad and they’d relocated to Cedar Rapids for a fresh start. They’d moved into that apartment complex and she’d met Lynn and they’d had so much fun together. Sure, it had been awkward starting out, but what twelve-year-old wasn’t awkward? Lynn had been a good friend: quiet, but full of fun and interesting ideas once you got her out of her shell. They did silly, fun things together, even taught each other how to braid the other’s hair and traded favorite braid patterns.

But then Kayla’s mom had remarried, and they moved up in the world. Kayla’s stepdad was one of the “country club” crowd and had a big house not far away in Linn Junction. Moving there had been like a dream come true. Her stepdad was actually pretty cool, and she and her mom suddenly had all the money they could want to go shopping, buy better clothes, and get all the toys Kayla had ever wanted. She missed playing with Lynn every day, but she’d been sure there was plenty of room in her new life for her friend too.

At least, until Elena Seville—the most beautiful and popular girl in middle school—marched up to Kayla, looked her critically up and down, then shrugged and said her daddy had told her to be nice to Mr. Swain’s new stepdaughter. Kayla was one of their crowd now.

From that moment on, Elena’s will dictated what she wore, what she said, and most importantly, who she was seen with.

And Lynn was not on that list.

Kayla remembered Elena’s words so vividly, as if she’d spoken them yesterday.

You can’t be around people like that anymore, Kayla.

But why not? Lynn is nice.

Who cares? She’s so fat, and have you seen the clothes she wears? My daddy says fat people shouldn’t be allowed out in public where everybody has to look at their ugly bodies. He says his tax dollars pay for their healthcare, so they should be shut away until they learn how to eat right and look decent. It’s their own fault, you know? How ugly they look? If they weren’t so disgusting and greedy they could all be thin and beautiful like us.

It had sounded ludicrous to Kayla, even then. But she was out of her depth, surrounded by a whole crowd of girls she was desperate to fit in with, and they all agreed with Elena. They couldn’t all be wrong, could they? Maybe Elena really did know what she was talking about. After all, she was the most beautiful girl at school, so she must know something about how staying thin worked, right?

At least, that’s what Kayla had convinced herself at the time.

Thinking about it, Kayla felt her face flush hot with shame. She knew better now—it’d taken years, but she’d finally gotten sick of Elena’s preaching and started doing her own research on health and fitness, only to find that humans came in a dizzying array of natural body and metabolism types. She knew all about the body-image sickness in the celebrity industry.

The information was there for anyone who had the guts to be confronted with it.

And yet, despite what she knew to be the truth, she stayed a part of Elena’s clique. Rejecting Elena was paramount to suicide. She’d seen a few girls try it, and Elena had destroyed them. The bullying had been so bad that the girls had eventually transferred schools.

Kayla tried to kick a stray stone on the driveway in front of her, tears of frustration and shame welling in her eyes. She missed and nearly overbalanced, then cursed herself seven ways to Sunday.

This was stupid. She was stupid. Why was she letting Elena abuse her?

Suddenly, Lynn’s words from the livestream echoed in her head.

I’m here to win, not to be constantly ignored, belittled, and insulted . . . I’m out.

Kayla felt emotion well up in her throat. Her friend—no, her former friend—was so brave. Lynn had everything Kayla wished she had and was too afraid to reach for. Lynn knew her worth, held her head high, and refused to take the abuse.

Why couldn’t she be more like Lynn?

Feet throbbing, Kayla finally reached the front gate. She checked her LINC and saw she still had at least a five-minute wait for the air taxi she’d ordered. She wrapped her arms around herself, sniffed, and shivered. The early October sun was out and the air wasn’t too chilly, but Kayla still felt cold and miserable.

She wished she could talk to Lynn and ask her how she was so brave and confident. But Lynn would never talk to her again, not when Kayla had stood by for years and let Elena insult and torment her without raising a finger to stop it. There was no apology that could make up for how terrible a friend she had been.

On a morbid whim, Kayla pulled up the HotGamingCelebs stream again and skipped backward until she could rewatch Lynn standing up for herself to that jerk captain of hers. She watched it again, and again, zooming in on Lynn’s face and trying to puzzle out how the girl was staying so strong.

It was a shame Lynn didn’t have her own stream. If she gave the fans exclusive, first-person content there wouldn’t be such a demand for hot takes from paparazzi vultures. The poor thing was probably going crazy with all those drones following her around.

An idea struck Kayla with such force that she rocked back on her heels and almost lost her balance.

It was brilliant.

But would it work? More importantly, could she do it?

For the first time in years, hope filled Kayla’s chest, and she was actually smiling by the time the air taxi pulled up.

* * *

Lynn had just gotten out of the shower, dressed in her most comfortable baggy clothes, and was braiding her damp hair when her LINC beeped, indicating a call was coming through. She hesitated. Did she want to talk to anyone right now? But years of being drilled in responsibility and responsiveness by her mom propelled her toward her desk where her LINC ring lay. She slid it on and popped in her earbuds, from which she heard:

“Call from: TransDimensional Hunter technical support line. Accept call?”

Lynn was so shocked she didn’t respond right away, and her LINC’s answering service repeated the request.

“Y-yeah, sure,” Lynn said, though nervousness filled her gut.

What did they want? Did they know she’d been kicked off her own team? What would she say?

“Hey Lynn! It’s James over at TD Hunter technical support. How you doing today?”

“Um, great! Just, uh, great.”

“Glad to hear it! I won’t keep you long, I was just following up on some unusual activity your LINC had sent us. You recall that after the beta testing period, you agreed to let your LINC continue sending us data the TDH app collected to help us continue to improve our users’ experience?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess?”

“Well, the system noticed you were recently in a very high level of activity engaged with a large number of TDMs when you left combat mode quite abruptly. It looked enough like the black-out glitches we ran into during beta that we just wanted to follow up and make sure there hadn’t been some malfunction in your equipment or the game app.”

“No, no. That was on purpose. It’s, uh, all fine.”

“Okay! Great. How’re the new team items and special rules working out? Any user-related questions I can help you with?”

“Um, nope,” Lynn said as casually as she could manage. “We’re good, thanks.”

“Excellent. We want to make sure we provide the best support possible for our Hunter Strike Teams to make sure your experience is smooth, considering our shorter-than-usual beta testing period. Remember, any questions or issues you have, please don’t hesitate to give us a call. We’re here to help.”

Lynn swallowed.

“Thanks, James. I appreciate that.”

“Great! Well, if there’s nothing else I can help you with . . . ” James paused, and Lynn shifted uneasily in the pregnant silence.

“Can I talk to Steve?” she blurted out before she could change her mind.

“Sure! Let me ping the tactical department and check that he’s not already on a call. Give me a sec, okay?”

“Okay . . . ” Lynn was already regretting her request, but there was no backing out now. Within seconds, Steve Riker’s gravelly, clipped voice came online.

“Hey kid. You rang?”

For some reason, the sound of Steve’s voice made Lynn relax, not tense up further like she’d expected. Her dad had always called her “kid,” and the familiar epithet just seemed to hit the right spot in the tangled ball of frustration and emotion jammed up in her chest.

“Um, well, yeah. About that . . . ”

Steve chuckled.

“No worries, kid. I saw it all.”

“You did?” Lynn gasped. Her cheeks heated.

“Yeah, our tactical team likes to, uh, keep an eye, shall we say, on certain streams known for harassing gamers. It’s so our legal department has a head start if there’s ever any cause for lawsuits. They flagged that stream—hey, what was it called?” Steve half yelled as if calling over his shoulder to someone else in the room. “Yeah, HotGamingCelebs. Jeez. What a dumpster fire. Anyway, they flagged it as soon as they saw some of the audience getting in the way of players, and I watched the rest live, so . . . yeah.”

“Yeah,” Lynn echoed, shoulders drooping. She suddenly felt exhausted beyond belief and stepped over to flop down on her bed and stare listlessly at the ceiling. The familiar smell of her comforter surrounded her but didn’t make her feel any better. “Maybe I should just give up and go back to being Larry Coughlin and making bank in WarMonger. At least then I had complete control over my life and I could make reliable money.”

Steve chuckled.

“I know quite a few players who would be quaking in their boots at the idea of Larry showing up again.”

Lynn snorted.

“And,” he continued, “I know quite a few players who would love to have Larry back. I won’t lie, teaming up with Larry Coughlin to kick some Tier One a—I mean butt was seriously good times.”

Rather than make her feel better, Steve’s praise made her groan.

“I really miss it, you know. I just don’t have time anymore! And it annoys me to think of all those ‘young upstarts’ getting overconfident and running their mouths because the Boss Snake isn’t around to put them in their place.”

“I know, kid. Believe me, I know. It sucks to give up things you worked hard for. Look, though, you sound pretty down about the whole TD Hunter situation, but you shouldn’t be.”

“What do you mean?” Lynn moaned, now covering her face. “I got kicked off my own team! I’m basically out of the championship running. What am I supposed to do now?”

“You’ve got a couple options, actually. First option: join another team. You are in the top ten TD Hunter players in the world. There’s dozens of teams that would simply kick out their weakest player to give you room to join, if you put out that you were looking.”

Lynn removed her hands and made a face.

“That . . . doesn’t seem right.”

“Maybe, but it’s the truth. Of course, there’s the problem of location. Not many top-tier teams in Iowa—just yours, actually. But if it was important enough to you to relocate, you’d be welcomed pretty much anywhere in the world.”

The idea was slow to sink in, but when it finally did, Lynn was speechless. People all around the world knew who she was, and they wanted her on their team? The surrealness of it was overwhelming, but it did take the edge off the crushing disappointment and panic that had been sawing at her insides.

“I—that’s great news, but . . . yeah, I don’t think we can relocate. This championship thing isn’t a sure bet, and my mom would have to give up her job.”

“Don’t shortchange yourself, Lynn. You could make more in sponsorships than your mom’s annual salary easy if you put the word out you were looking.”

Lynn shook her head in disbelief.

“Maybe, but that would only last until after the international championship—if I even make it that far. And what if I lost?”

“Then the publicity would cement you as a top-tier professional gamer and you could go on to some other gig. Believe me, ad companies are always looking for top players to promote their brands. Virtual ads can only get a company so far, and large swaths of the population pay to block them. How better to get eyes on their products than to have uber-popular stream celebrities wearing them and talking about them? What I’m trying to tell you, kid, is you’ve got options. You just gotta think big.”

But Lynn still shook her head.

“Mom loves her job. It’s her calling. I couldn’t ask her to give up nursing.”

“Understood,” Steve said. “Which brings us to your second option: reform your team.”

“But it’s not my team. Ronnie is the captain.”

Steve snorted.

“Come on, Lynn. I know you don’t like the idea of being in the spotlight but be honest with yourself. It’s Skadi’s Wolves, not Ronnie’s Wolves. Heck, at least one of your teammates”—there was a pause—“Edgar Johnston, right? He quit with you. And the other two, ah, Mr. Rios and Mr. Nguyen, both seemed opposed to the breakup. There’s nothing stopping you from reforming the team and replacing Mr. Payne.”

Lynn’s mouth dropped open. She hadn’t even considered the possibility.

“B-but it’s Ronnie’s team. He registered it and everything.”

“I doubt he read the fine print. Did you?”

“Er . . . some of it. It’s all kinda vague in my head though, I’d have to go back and check.”

“I’ll save you the trouble. You all paid your registration fee, you all registered as members of Skadi’s Wolves under your own names. The designation of Team Captain is simply for organizational purposes and for in-game mechanics. It’s not legal. Up until the week or so before the national championship, the team captain and team members can change. Generally pro teams who do this for a living have a pool of alternates they tap into if any team member gets sick or an emergency comes up. For the TD Hunter championship, you have to have your team set and your alternates designated by . . . ” There was a silence while Steve looked for the information. “June 1st, it looks like. The championship will be held on June 15th, one year from game launch. Until then, everything is up for grabs except the team name—though you could even change that if you were willing to jump through the hoops.”

“But, what’s to stop the team from splitting up and creating multiple new teams?”

“Can’t register new teams after qualifications,” Steve said. “Teams are a democracy, not a dictatorship. Whatever the majority of the team decides, goes. We step in and arbitrate if there’s a dispute that can’t be worked out internally, but that’s a last resort.”

Lynn’s brows scrunched together. She vaguely recalled reading those details before the qualifiers, but ever since her blowup with Ronnie she’d been so upset she hadn’t remembered them.

“So . . . if I got Mack and Dan, or even just Mack, to side with me . . . ”

“Yup.”

Lynn considered that, then remembered who would likely have to become team captain in such a scenario. She groaned.

“I don’t want to deal with all this drama. I just want to kill monsters!”

Steve chuckled darkly.

“I get it, kid, I really do. You have no idea. But every opportunity has its challenges. And I suspect you’ll find help to overcome them in the most unexpected places.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re not in this alone, so don’t go all fatalistic on me. At least, not unless you want to go with your third option.”

“What’s that?”

“Quitting. But if you tried that, I’d be over there to kick your a—I mean posterior back into the game so fast you wouldn’t know what hit you.” The grin in Steve’s voice was obvious, and Lynn grinned back.

“Golly, Steve, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you cared.”

“Nah, kid, don’t let it go to your head. We’ve just got some friendly bets going on in the Tac, and my money’s all on you. I’m too poor to lose, so don’t you go quitting,” he teased.

“Yessir.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Oh, and a word of advice?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t make things personal, okay? I know what that jerk said, I saw the whole thing. But two wrongs don’t make a right. If you really want this championship, you have to stay focused on what’s important: winning. Not getting even, not humiliating the people who’ve wronged you. Just forget that kid. Forget what he said. You’ve got nothing to prove—you’ve already proven it. Focus on the mission. Got it?”

“Yeah . . . I’ll try. Thanks, Steve.”

“Anytime, kid. And good luck.”

Lynn smiled.

“Thanks. RavenStriker, out.”

* * *

A while later, Matilda and Lynn had just finished their “breakfast” together and Lynn was cleaning up while her mom got ready to go to work when there was a knock on the door.

“Mom, are you expecting anyone?”

“No, honey,” Matilda called from her bedroom.

“Okay, I’ll get it.”

Newer apartment complexes had fancy smart doors that announced who had arrived based on their public LINC broadcast. But their complex had been built before Lynn was born and only the most basic and necessary conversions made. Things like the drone delivery docks, which were required by law for each habitable apartment once a bunch of accidents in the early days of drones had led to a blanket ban on airborne devices indoors.

They did, at least, have a peephole. But when Lynn looked through it and saw Kayla Swain, of all people, she was so shocked she didn’t move for a good ten seconds.

There was another knock, soft and unsure.

Lynn shook her head. Why was Kayla here? Had Elena sent her? Was this some sort of setup? Was she going to throw eggs in Lynn’s face and record it to further humiliate her after the public breakup of Skadi’s Wolves?

She considered not opening the door, but her curiosity got the better of her. With a twist of the knob, she opened it just a crack.

“What are you doing here?”

Kayla jumped.

“O-oh! Hi Lynn! Um . . . could I please come in?”

“Why?”

“Oh, well, to talk, if that’s okay?” Kayla smiled nervously, and Lynn noticed her fingers pinching and twisting the hem of her shirt. The old familiarity of that tic hit Lynn right in the chest. She frowned, though she did open the door enough to look fully into her former friend’s face. Kayla’s frizzy hair was unbound and windswept, like she’d pulled it carelessly from the updo she normally tamed it with at school.

“Kayla, you haven’t spoken a word to me in five years. Why should I even give you the time of day? For all I know, you’re a spy for Elena and here to do something awful.”

To Lynn’s astonishment, tears filled Kayla’s eyes and the girl bit her lip, obviously trying to keep her composure.

“I-I know, Lynn. You’re right. You don’t owe me anything and I—I can never make up for how horribly I’ve treated you all this time. B-but I swear, Elena didn’t send me. I’m here because I w-want to talk, that’s all. And . . . and I hope you can see it in your heart to hear me out. Please?” she finished in a whisper.

Lynn’s mouth twisted to the side and she raised an eyebrow. Was Kayla faking it? It didn’t look like it, but her old friend had changed a lot since they were twelve, and Lynn had no idea what she was capable of.

She did, however, know what Elena was capable of.

“I want to believe you, but I don’t trust Elena further than I can throw her—less, actually, since I could throw her skinny butt at least across the room.”

The comment prompted a wet chuckle from Kayla, but she immediately looked guilty for it and dropped her eyes. Lynn stared at her for a moment, then went on.

“Anyway, you could be recording this conversation and feeding it back to Elena. Maybe you’re here to talk and Elena manipulated you into livestreaming the whole thing, or whatever. I’m pretty sure she’d do anything she thinks she can get away with.”

“O-okay. This isn’t that, I promise. Let me prove it to you.” Kayla dug into her purse and pulled out a little round contact case. “Here, I’ll take out my lenses.”

“You wear lenses? I thought you had implants like all the other girls.”

Kayla made a face.

“Yeah, so does Elena. But my stepdad won’t let me get them. So, I wear really discreet lenses at school and glasses at home. The stupid lenses kill my eyes.”

“Yeah, mine too, that’s why I don’t wear them,” Lynn said without thinking. Kayla looked startled, then smiled tentatively.

As Lynn waited, the girl took out both AR lenses, put them away in their case, and replaced it in her purse.

“There, see? No recording.”

Lynn squinted.

“You could still be recording with your LINC omnisensors.”

“Oh, uh, I guess. Well, here.” Kayla reached up and unclasped the silver chain that held her stylish LINC medallion around her neck. She slipped that into her purse too. “See?”

Lynn made a face again, brows drawn down. But her former friend looked so miserable and hopeful at the same time that she finally sighed and opened the door wide.

“Fine. But leave your purse on the kitchen counter. We’ll go talk in my room.”

“Thank you, thank you!”

To Lynn’s relief, her mother was still in her bedroom, thus avoiding another awkward conversation.

“Mom! A, uh, friend from school came by to talk, we’ll be in my room!”

“Okay, honey!”

Lynn knew her mother would find out about the argument with Ronnie eventually. She was hoping she could figure things out and break the news herself before the bombshell landed. It would be bad for Ronnie’s health if Matilda saw firsthand what he’d said. Lynn wouldn’t put it past her mom to call Ronnie’s dad and chew him out and chew Ronnie out too. It would be so much easier to wait until she had a resolution and could calm her mother with assurances that no real harm had been done.

Kayla made straight for Lynn’s bedroom and Lynn followed. It felt . . . wrong that Kayla knew exactly where to go, as if there weren’t a gaping five-year chasm of hurt between them and their twelve-year-old selves. Lynn shut the door behind them, crossed her arms, and propped a hip on her desk. Kayla looked around the room, twisting her hem nervously again, before finally sitting gingerly on the bed.

“Okay. Talk,” Lynn said.

For a long moment, Kayla just stared at the ground, hands folded tightly in her lap.

Lynn sighed.

“Come on, Kayla. Out with it. What’s this about.”

“I’m sorry!” the girl blurted, finally looking up. Wet trails were visible on her dark cheeks, and she sniffed.

“Okaaay . . . ” Lynn didn’t know where this was going.

“I’m s-sorry for everything. For ghosting you when we were kids. For ignoring you all this time. For staying quiet while Elena was horrible. I’m sorry for hurting you and not being the friend you d-deserved.” Kayla hiccuped on her last word, then swallowed. Her eyes were so big and round and pleading. Just seeing her back in this bedroom dredged up old hurts that Lynn had long since accepted and moved past. It made her want to lash out, to make Kayla understand how much her actions had hurt.

But Lynn wasn’t twelve anymore. She took a deep breath.

“Okay. I hear you. But I don’t get why you’re here now.”

“I-I wanted to apologize, and say how sorry I am, and that it’s all my fault and you didn’t do anything wrong. I know there’s no excuse for my choices, b-but I hoped you might be able to understand”—Kayla’s voice descended to a miserable whisper—“well, understand how hard it is to do the right thing around Elena.”

Lynn sighed bigger this time and reached up to rub her temples. She hated drama. It was exhausting and confusing. But she did know what Elena was like, and since Kayla had arrived, she’d done nothing but show how sincere she was. As much as Lynn wanted to say, “Thanks, bye now,” and kick Kayla to the curb, that was what Elena would do, not her.

“Okay. I get it. Elena is a manipulative harpy, and if you get on her bad side, she makes you wish you’d never been born. I just don’t get why you ghosted me in the first place. Did our friendship really mean so little that you threw it away just to chase after Elena and her clique?”

“No! And . . . and yes,” Kayla said, looking down at her hands again.

Lynn finally pulled out her body-mold chair and slouched into it.

“When my mom remarried,” Kayla said to her hands, “it moved us to an entirely new social circle. I didn’t realize it then, but I think my stepdad and Elena’s dad were in business together, and Elena’s dad told her to make friends with me, maybe to get brownie points with my stepdad or something? Anyway, she tracked me down and told me I was going to be in her clique. I know I could have said no, but I felt desperate to fit in.” Kayla looked up, apology and pleading in her eyes.

“My therapist is always on me about that. She says I don’t have to please people all the time and my worth isn’t dependent on others but that’s . . . just how I am. And I was twelve, Lynn! I was an idiot. All I wanted was for my new stepdad to like me and to not screw things up for my mom. My biological dad was . . . terrible, and Mom seemed really happy with my stepdad. Anyway, Elena declared I was hers and that I couldn’t hang out with ‘losers’ anymore. She—” Kayla stopped and squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and looked out the window.

“She said lots of horrible things about you, and I just accepted them, because it was that or get rejected myself. And after a while . . . well, Elena and that crowd was all I had. She cut me off from everything else and made it really clear that anyone who betrayed her would regret it for the rest of their lives. I felt stuck.”

Lynn shook her head, still angry but also incredulous at the stupidity of teenagers. Okay, so she was still a teenager, too, but she’d never been that stupid.

“I know . . . I was stupid,” Kayla said miserably, as if echoing Lynn’s thoughts. “But I’m not strong like you, Lynn.”

The comment startled Lynn, and she looked at Kayla more closely. The girl’s shoulders were curved inward, as if to protect herself from unseen blows. It reminded Lynn a lot of herself and all those years she’d been afraid to be seen, knowing the abuse that happened when you brought attention to yourself.

Lynn got up and went to sit beside Kayla on the bed. She hesitated, then gave her former friend an awkward pat on the shoulder.

“Kayla . . . I’m not strong. I spent years being bullied and my only defense was hiding. Being invisible. It’s only been recently that I’ve figured out how to stop hiding. But I’m still a work in progress. And honestly, I couldn’t have done it without my mom and some great people who’ve supported me and given me advice. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m nothing special. I didn’t choose anything heroic, I just tried to survive, like you. And I think I understand how hard it was for you, but that doesn’t change the choice you made. Or how much it hurt me.”

“I know,” Kayla sniffed. “I’m not even asking you to forgive me, I just saw how you stood up to your team captain on livestream and it . . . it inspired me. I can’t take Elena anymore. I don’t know what to do or how to get away from her, I’ve just been so miserable for so long. I want to be different. I . . . I want to be more like you.”

Lynn had no idea what to say. She couldn’t help being suspicious of Kayla’s motives, no matter how sincere she sounded. It was almost as if she couldn’t allow herself to hope Kayla was really sorry, because if it was all a trick, she couldn’t take being betrayed again. And yet . . . 

And yet Kayla obviously needed help. Lynn’s mom was a nurse, and her dad had been a cop. Helping other people had been drilled into her since she was a little kid. She couldn’t just reject Kayla outright. But she also needed time and space to think.

“Look, Kayla. Thank you for apologizing. It was the right thing to do, and I appreciate it. If you really want to be different, then the first thing you need to do is tell Elena—in public, to her face—to go stuff it. Don’t make it about getting even or anything, just make it clear, in front of everybody, that you’re not going to let her push you around anymore.”

Kayla was already shaking her head, and her hands were back to twisting in her lap.

“I can’t do that! She’ll skin me alive! I’d never be able to show my face again at school, Elena would make sure of that.”

“Bullshit.”

“What?”

“I said bullshit. That is complete and utter crap, and you know it. Elena doesn’t own you. She doesn’t control your life. She is nothing to you if you choose. The only power she has over you is the power you give her. You have to make the choice to stand up on your own two feet and not care what she says or thinks. Yeah, it sucks, a lot. But I’ve survived it since sixth grade, and you can too.”

“B-but my stepdad—”

“Would probably tell you the same thing, Kayla. Seriously? If he loves you at all, he would never want you to be in an abusive friendship. Does your stepdad love you?”

“Yes! Of course he does.”

“Have you ever told him, or your mom, for that matter, what Elena is really like?”

“No,” Kayla said in a small voice.

“Yeah, not the smartest move.”

“I know!” she wailed. “I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot.”

Silently, Lynn agreed, but didn’t let the words escape her lips. Instead, she tried to think what her mom would say.

“Maybe you’ve made some stupid decisions, but you’re not an idiot. You’re doing the right thing now, and that’s what counts. It’s going to be hard, but you can’t back down. Not ever again. Got it?”

“O-okay.”

Lynn shook her head ruefully and stood. Look at her, doling out advice like Steve.

Crazy.

She was glad Kayla seemed to be coming round, but she still didn’t trust her. It was too soon for that. “Thanks for coming over and all, but I’ve still got school to do tonight. So, uh . . . ” She gestured at the door.

“Oh! Sure, of course. But, um, there’s one more thing I wanted to tell you—or, I guess, ask you? It’s really important, and I had to apologize first and everything. If you don’t mind . . . ?”

Lynn sighed.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Well, I, um, saw the stream of . . . you know.” Kayla made a sympathetic face, and Lynn’s stomach twisted.

“Yeah, so what?”

“I was at Elena’s house, and obviously she was totally disgusting about it, but she and Connor got into an argument and Connor stormed out! I think he may be quitting the team, I don’t know—”

“What!”

“I know, right? But anyway, that’s not even what I wanted to tell you,” Kayla rushed on, her words tumbling over themselves in their hurry to get out. “I’ve been managing Elena’s stream for years because, well, I volunteered at first so she would like me and then, you know, free labor and everything. But I’m pretty good at it, and my dad owns a big PR company, and he’s asked about you a few times, and now that I’m done with Elena, and things would be so much easier for you if you had your own stream so paparazzi would stop bothering you so much, and so I thought maybe I . . . maybe I and my dad . . . well, maybe we could help? Maybe represent you or something?”

Kayla finally finished and seemed to hold her breath, as if expecting a slap. Lynn, though, was still digesting the flood of words and could only stare blankly at the girl on her bed.

“I-I haven’t mentioned it to my stepdad yet, of course, because I wasn’t sure you’d be interested, so I don’t know all the details of how it would work. But I know from working with Elena that there’s probably lots of people trying to message you and get your attention and ask for interviews and exclusive shots and everything. It’s probably really overwhelming, and since you’ve maybe ignored it all up to now, but there’s still demand, that could be why you’re being harassed by stream vultures—”

“By what?”

“Oh, that’s what we call paparazzi in the biz.” Kayla shrugged, and it was such a nonchalant, authoritative statement that Lynn laughed.

“So, your stepdad . . . ”

“Yeah! He owns Global Image Consulting—or, at least, he owns part of it. It’s got a board and everything, but he’s on it, even though he still handles some clients personally, and—”

“Whoa, whoa. Back up, Kayla.”

The girl snapped her mouth shut and looked hopeful.

“Let’s just say if I wanted your help and if I worked with your Global Imaging or whatever, how much would it cost? I’m not Elena. We’re normal people, I don’t have a rich dad who can throw money at whatever I want.”

“That’s the best part!” Kayla chirped, bouncing on the bed in her excitement. “You’re already such a big name that it wouldn’t cost you anything! You’d agree for Global Image Consulting to be your representative—your agent, you might say—to work on your behalf negotiating sponsorships and stuff, and they’d get a small percentage of whatever deals they made. So, basically, it wouldn’t cost you a thing!”

Lynn’s expression turned skeptical. It sounded too good to be true.

“Look, let me talk to my mom about it and I’ll . . . I’ll be in touch, okay?”

“Honey! I’m leaving for work! Is your friend still here?”

Matilda’s voice came from the living room, making Lynn jump. She’d forgotten she wasn’t alone in the apartment. She shot a nervous look at Kayla, but there was no help for it.

“Come on,” she said, jerking her head at the door. She went out into the living room and smiled at her mom. “She was just leaving.”

“Oh! Kayla? I, um, haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?” Matilda’s eyes flicked to Lynn and her eyebrows rose, but Lynn just shrugged.

“I’m good, thank you Mrs. Raven. I’d better be going, though.” Kayla turned hesitantly to Lynn and caught her eye. “Um . . . I’ll see you at school?”

Lynn nodded.

“Yeah, I guess so. Good luck tomorrow. You can come have lunch with me if you want, after . . . you know.” She gave Kayla a significant look, and the girl’s dark complexion seemed to pale.

“Yeah. Thanks. I’ll see you then.” Kayla hurried off, grabbing her purse from the kitchen counter on her way out the door.

Matilda looked from the door to her daughter and back.

“What was that all about?”

Lynn let out a breath. She was even more exhausted than before, and she still had school work to do.

“I’ll explain later, you’re going to be late for work.”

“Oops! You’re right. Love you, sweetie. I’ll see you in the morning.” She leaned over to press a kiss on Lynn’s damp hair, and Lynn smiled.

“Love you too, Mom. Have a good shift.”

Soon, the echo of the closing door and her mom’s footsteps down the hall faded, and Lynn was finally alone in the apartment.

Good freaking grief.

She had a lot—a lot—to think about.

But first, she had math homework.


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Framed