BECOMING SUPRA

Chapter 16.2: New York City: Raë

I've been waiting for tomorrow for as long as I can remember. In less than twenty-four hours I'll be at the Arthur-Ashe stadium competing in Deathonator, my first ever e-game in front of thousands of spectators. Now, all I have to do is win. Win the game, win the title and the three million dollars. Spectators from all over the world will be watching. I might brush shoulders with top recruiters and renowned developers. This could be my ticket into BlizzardWizard, my ticket into the real world.

Walking down Jane Street, I turned left on West 4th, it was dark except for cones of light under street lamps highlighting the slant of the snowfall. I walked down Charles, past empty stoops, my hand squeezing my exercise ball.

Shivering, I rang the doorbell. Oliver opened the door wearing shorts and socks, a loose blanket dangling from his bare shoulders.

"It's so cold I can't feel my molars ... and you've got nothing on!"

"I'll layer up when I have to," he said, walking into the living room. I removed my jacket and gloves and followed him into the empty house. Oliver flopped into the warm nook on his couch and extended his feet onto the coffee table.

"Where are you parents?"

"Not in the country. You think I'd wreck the living room like I have if they were around? I'm doing this, just so I can."

On the coffee table, a finished tub of green-tea ice cream lay fallen amongst a spill of Cheetos. And flared open were a box of pink and blue butter-cream Magnolia Café muffins.

"Where've they gone?"

"Medellin."

"You passed on an opportunity for a trip to Medellin?"

"I wouldn't go even if they paid me. All Mom wants to do is drink, get loud and flirty, while Dad is made to watch over her like some samurai sentinel. Roll playing begins the minute they land. I want no part in it. It's so nauseating I've decided never to go on holiday with them again."

I recovered the ball from my pocket and started exercising my left hand.

"I heard you passed on the opportunity to visit the Amazon rainforest for some video game competition."

"Yes."

"You're telling me, you left New York for India and turned up with a videogame addiction?"

"It's not an addiction. I'm developing a game ... for women."

"For women by women," said Oliver.

"Exactly."

"Right. And the competition, what does it get you?"

"If I win ... I make millions."

"Not bad. That'll cover tuition and more."

"If I win, I'm going to take a gap year."

"Gap year! That's a luxury only a millionaire can afford."

"If I win ..."

"Did I tell you I got into Columbia."

"Already?"

"Early decision.

"Congratulations."

"Now I roughly know what the next four years are going to look like ... kinda, somewhat ... hopefully. I figure Journalism is not going to die anytime soon."

I changed hands when Oliver reached out and snatched the exercise ball from me, then slid it deep under a sofa cushion.

"Can you just sit back ... relax, maybe put your feet up? I meet you after months, and you show up at mine in the middle of some practice routine. And thanks for keeping in touch ... you don't call or text ... not even a simple, how you doing?"

"How you doing, Olie?" I said, smiling.

"I've never felt lonelier."

"Where's Heike?"

"She's conjoined at the hip with her new love."

"And Zola?"

"She's become a rabid environmentalist."

"Rabid as in?"

"Recycling shower water ... six times over. I'm thinking there's got to be a better way? Don't you?"

I nodded. "Who are you going to Mister Sunday's with?"

"Santa Maria," he said, picking up a rolled joint from the ashtray. He lit it, took three slow puffs then offered it to me.

"Nah. I have the game tomorrow."

"A game? Or the game?"

"The game. Deathonator finals."

"Deathonator. Trust you to go for something like that. You know what's changed since I saw you last?"

"What?"

"Your shoulders are all hunched up ... gathered up to your ears. Have a drag. It'll loosen the tension ... ease your neck out a bit."

"Nah, I'll pass."

Oliver fell back into his nook. "What's changed since you saw me last?"

"You got into Columbia! Wasn't that the plan, like forever?"

"It was," said Oliver, smiling and slowly pulling on the joint.

"You've also gotten thinner."

"Ewf, I eat so much it's embarrassing. I'm always hungry. Sometimes, at restaurants, I eat right off my parents plates. Once I even ate the left-overs of a stranger. The calamari still looked crisp and I was like, why not. I know that's crossing the line but sometimes I really can't help myself. It's like I have a dead soul inside me begging to be fed. My Mom's new name for me is Pet Munchy. Talking about food, where did you say you wanted to go for dinner?"

"Cornelia Street Cafe."

"Not Mary's Fish Camp? A hot clam chowder would be nice in this snow storm."

"The café is shutting next month, for good I hear. This might be my last meal there."

"Shutting? Why?

"Rent got exorbitant."

"Ah." He whipped out his phone and read. "Yay. They have Afro-Latin Jazz tonight. Maybe you can try and score me some hooch."

"Let's head. I can't make it a late night."

"Of course, you have the game tomorrow."