Sure enough, the coughing clatter coming up the street was unmistakable. Roy made a face, though he didn’t say anything as Zeg’s car rounded the corner and chugged up the drive. The guzzler halted with a squeal of brakes, and Zeg hopped out, his smile beaming from behind his frizzy beard. He had a passenger, too—his niece, Marny.
“Marny!” Jennet gave her friend a hug, her slight form dwarfed by the bigger girl. Marny was solid, physically as well as emotionally.
“Good to see you two,” Spark said. “The gang’s almost all here. Jennet, is your dad coming?”
“He’s stuck at work, but sends his best wishes and an open invitation to come stay with us. You know, whenever you’re passing through on your international tours.”
They all laughed. Crestview wasn’t on the way to anywhere.
“I might, actually. Now that VirtuMax owns this town, I imagine they’ll want me back from time to time.”
“Good,” Roy said, a little too smugly. “There are other reasons to come back here, of course.”
Spark caught Jennet’s eye. Although he’d matured some, Roy Lassiter could still be a prime ego-head.
“Right,” Marny said. “And I hate to tell you this, Roy, but you’re not anywhere near the top of the list.”
Tam let out a snort, and Jennet held up one hand.
“Stop it,” she said. “Is this really how we want to say goodbye to Spark?”
“Just like old times.” A hint of a smile tugged at Tam’s mouth. “Think of all those happy in-game memories.”
“Right.” Spark rolled her eyes. “Especially the parts where we almost got killed.”
“We’ll talk, though,” Jennet said. “We all have each other’s messager numbers, right?”
“We have to.” Tam’s voice grew serious. “Feyland launches next week, which means our work is just starting. We need to be on the lookout for… you know. Freaky things.”
Jennet nodded, and Marny crossed her arms. Spark let out a low breath. Yeah, they knew. Things like fey magic seeping out of the game into the mortal world. Gamers led astray, stumbling into a realm of wonder and trouble far beyond anything they’d imagined when they entered the virtual reality of a sim game.
“I’m sure we’ll all keep watch,” Zeg said. He handed Spark a paper sack. “Here. I baked you some cookies.”
That, more than anything, made sorrow tighten her throat. Zeg’s cookies were legendary.
“Miss Jaxley,” Burt called. “We need to get you to the airport.”
Jennet, her blue eyes glinting with tears, hugged Spark again. Tam was next, then Marny, who nearly cracked her ribs. Zeg gave her a bear hug, and for a second Spark missed her dad, missed her whole family with a quick, sharp pain.
Still, she knew her family was happy for the opportunities and the life she’d chosen. Not to mention the big portion of her earnings she always sent home.
“Spark. I’ll miss you.” Roy put his arms around her, and it was too tender, too close to the real thing.
But almost wasn’t enough. Regret surged through her, bittersweet.
“Bye, Roy,” she said softly.
He bent to kiss her, and at the last second she turned her face so that his lips grazed her cheek, not her mouth.
Trying to ignore the hurt in his eyes, she stepped back and made herself smile. At the curb, Burt opened the limo door and cleared his throat.
“Stay out of trouble, team,” she said.
Then, before she made a total spectacle of herself, she ducked into the car. Burt closed the door behind her, and the tinted glass hid the tissue she used to blot her tears. Internationally famous gaming stars didn’t cry.
Much.
Aran Cole slid on the fake glasses with the dark frames, and turned to face his friend, Bix Chowney. The flickering fluorescent light in Bix’s old garage cast a sickly glow over everything, but Aran was fond of the place; lumpy couch, faint mildew smell, and all.
It was the closest thing he had to a home. All he needed was a place to sleep, a hotplate, and power for his sim-system. The Viper was installed in the corner, hidden under a tarp when he wasn’t gaming.
“How do I look?” he asked.
Bix tilted his head, the light giving his blond hair a greenish cast. “Boring, and respectable. That’s freaky, man. How’d you do that?”
“It’s all in the attitude. I just imagine I’m a geeklet from a nice, suburban family, and presto! No more slacker gamer.”
He’d also re-dyed his hair to its underlying black, removing the blue streak, and had changed into the one button-down shirt he owned. His other shirts were all logo tees featuring obscure bands or gamer jokes, and he needed to project a more upper-class persona. At least until he passed through SimCon’s registration.#p#分页标题#e#