Game On.

First meeting

They are now officially at war, and yet the girl still trudges along the winding road, black hood up and faded trainers dragging. She wanted to stay home and practice. For when she would legally get a gun. Of course, she’d had a gun for a few years now, even though no one knew. No one, that is, except for those who have seen it, but they will never see again. She never kills for fun. But in these times she was a Gamer, and she could trust no one. They’d sent that poor boy running for home, but he had made a nice messenger pigeon. And now the others would need a new home base.

Her head snaps up as the teacher repeated her name, “Nyree Black?”

“Here” she replied, unflinchingly, as the teacher looked down at her with disdain. 

“Any dreams you want to share?”

“No, sir, but thank you for asking.” A few students snigger as the teacher continues down the roll.

Nyree hardly notices a new boy stride into the room; she ignores the appreciative gasps of the immature teenage girls around her. Indeed, she takes no notice of the new comer until he plops his bag down next to her and sits down. She looks up angrily, but her argument dies in her throat as she meets his eyes. They were hazel brown with tiny flecks of green and gold, and they made her heart stutter.

She forces her breathing to remain normal and her eyes return to her book. She pretends not to take any notice of him, while her eyes keep straying to his knee, inches from hers. She imperceptibly moves away, her reflex reaction to anything she likes; move away. The lesson drags and she’s first to jump out of her seat and head out the door as the bell rings. But he follows her, catching up and keeping up easily. 

“You’re Nyree, right?”

She makes a noncommittal sound under her breath, but he takes no notice. 

“ Nice name.” He runs a hand through his hair, and she could’ve sworn she saw gold flecks falling from his hair. Again, she unconsciously shifts away.

“Where did you get it?”

She sighs exasperatedly. She just wanted to get out of here before she did anything she might regret. And this was small talk at its very best, which she hated,

“From my parents,” she grumbles starting to turn away

His hand comes up so quickly she hardly has time to react. Her hand moves quickly to the gun in her bag, but he had only pulled down her hood. Her unruly black ringlets cascade down her back and she immediately puts her hood up again, but not before she saw the expression of wonder in the boy’s eyes. Did he really find her as intriguing as she found him? For the third time that day she moves away, but he moves closer, 

“Where do you live?”

“Creepy stalker dude.”

“No way, don’t have a creep setting, just wanted to know. So, which way do you walk?”

She points in the vague direction of the house, and he nods. 

“Me too. Let’s go.”

Surprised, she nods despite herself. Who was this strange boy who had such tight control on her heart rate? 

“I’m Calix. Guess you’re not the only one with a strange name.”

“Who said my name was strange?” she jokes, loosening up. 

“I do, but I like it.”

“I quite like your name too.” 

“Thank you.”