Only a Game (Olympus Drive Chronicles)

Chapter 7: Gotta let it load

Teddy

"Can't I come?"

"No, mom, they only paid for plane fare for one," I say, looking around my room as I pack my bag. There's a lot of clothes in my dresser considering I only ever wear this one shirt. Weird. "I'm fine. Really."

"It's just a little odd, don't you think? I mean, if it's a video game why do you have to go there—"

"Because there's a VR arena that you play in, it's a gimmick, it's not a big deal," I sigh, as I shove clothes in my bag. The cardboard box that that knife is in pokes out from under my bed. On impulse, I stuff it in. Maybe I can sell it when I'm in Greece or something. If he actually cared he'd showed up. Not just send me some stupid knife.

"Okay. I just worry. You are my baby," she says, walking up to pinch my cheek.

"Please don't tell reporters that."

"Why would I be talking to reporters???"

"When I win, I'll be famous, I am already famous after the bent-tree murders."

"You're not famous, Teddy."

"I am, England just refuses to accept it," I am famous. And I'll be even more famous than SuferDude© who just got famous for being good looking and athletic all the time. I'm going to get famous for being smart and helping people.

"I worry about you," she says, pushing my curls out of my face.

"I know. I'll be fine. What'd dad say?"

"He hasn't brought it up."

"You told him, right?

"I thought you did—"

"Shit, he doesn't know I'm going—you know what? Let's leave that," I laugh.

"Yeah, lets," she say, looking down at the carpet.

"Why do you stick with him?" I ask.

"Your father is a good man."

"That doesn't mean he makes you happy," I say.

"He was good to us when you were a baby. My family wasn't thrilled I couldn't work anymore, and your dad didn't mind that you weren't his; we wanted kids," she shrugs a little.

"Yeah that was seventeen years ago and I have more than enough for us to live—someplace else," I say.

"I'm not going to leave him," she says.

"Well, when I move to America to live in Maine, then you'll be quite welcome," I say.

"You're not going to America," she laughs.

It's not going well for me, working in that I already own a flat in London and a cabin in Maine. I had to do something with my money. I did it a year ago. I want to move out. I just-----I wouldn't mind if she came with me. I think she should come with me. She'd be happier, I think. It didn't seem like a big deal at first. Now it's just---it's getting harder and harder to tell her. Maybe when I get back.

"I'm not going to live in the basement forever," I say, smiling a little.

"Good—what you got a girlfriend or something?"

"No, mum, but I'll be sure to come home from Crete engaged to a very hairy, tall, foreign person," I say, laughing.

"For your father's sake can it be a girl?"

"Literally since you said that I'm gonna come home with a guy," I should make it clear I'm very straight but I have NEVER told anyone that because ever since the time that I fell off a bike backward when it wasn't moving my father has been terrified that I'm homosexual because he thinks that how you tell (it's not).

"Teddy---"

"I will, now that you've said that, I will come home with a very muscular guy and independent of whether or not it's true I'm going to present him as my boyfriend, there, give you something to look forward to."

"You're so silly," she says, messing up my curls, "Will you remember to put conditioner in?"

"I'll try, it's fine."

"I love your hair," she has straight hair. My father has straight hair. SurferDude© has thick gorgeous curls. "I've always loved your hair. When you were a baby I grew it out long because I loved taking care of it. Your father made me cut it; everyone kept thinking you were a girl."

"They still think that mum," I am not a tall person.

"I know," she says, fondly, "Okay, I'll let you get packed up. I did your laundry. How long are you going to be gone?"

"They said at least week?" I say, shrugging.

"A week? That's a long time," she frowns.

"Whatever, it's supposed to be hard---oh don't go worrying!"

"I'm always gonna worry about you."

"Mum, it's a video game, I'm playing a video game. Not signing up to become a gladiator, look at me do I honestly look like someone who would do that?" I ask, holding out my scrawny arms. We're lucky I make it up the stairs without getting out of breath. And she knows it.

"Come home safe."

"I will. With a tall handsome boyfriend—"

"Teddy!"

"Kidding. I won't kidnap anyone," and it's not like anyone would come home with me willingly.