BECOMING SUPRA

Chapter 1

RAË

I've survived kambo poisoning in the Amazon, a skydiving accident in the Himalayas, and a shark attack while diving in Cape Cod.

I've survived six variants of the pandemic.

I've made it this far ... magic must await me.

I've practiced hard, clocked in six hours daily. Strategized. Won round after round, made it to the top 5%. Before the term ends I'll know if I've qualified for the Deathonator finals. All top 5 percenters usually do. I'll win the finals, win the three million dollars like Hirohito did last year. When I win I'll get recruited at my dream company, BlizzardWizard. I'll learn the ropes, the ins and outs, the snags and traps of the gaming business. Then develop one of my own. Better than Deathonator, better than SpaCyU, better than Mirai*Mirai. I am going to sell my first game before I graduate senior year.

It's going to happen like I'm seeing it. It's going to happen this year.

When the first bell rang I found myself speed walking to morning assembly ready to take on what the year had in store for me; when Neel yanked my arm and did a 180 pulling me in the opposite direction.

Through swarms of students, dodging back slaps and pelting food, Neel leaned in and whispered, "I'm in love."

"Again?" I said, wide-eyed.

"This time ... it's mutual."

Neel whipped out his phone and showed me a picture of a boy standing arm in arm with him. "That's Stu ..."

"As in ... stew'ed?"

"Stuart," enunciated Neel. "Son of an English diplomat."

"How did you meet him?"

"On a hot day," he said, fanning his face. "During my driver's license test. I was sweating. He was sweating. We were bound together in our fear of failing." Neel smiled looking away. "I know, when I know, it's love."

"Did you pass?"

"By a hairpin bend."

"Who is ... the better driver?"

"He is," he said, winking.

"Are you going to manage your jealousy more intelligently this time?"

"I'm not jealous unless I'm made to be!"

"Wait, where ... are ... you ... taking me? Assembly is that way."

"Lover's Lane."

"Why?"

"To donate condoms."

"During first assembly?"

"Only time Lover's Lane is deserted."

Lover's Lane was a narrow impasse between tall storerooms. We walked all the way to the end. Neel took out a strip of condoms, reached up and placed them flush on the ledge, then dusting his hands said, "Charity for the year, done."

He reached into his pocket for his shiny vintage-case, he pulled out a rolled joint and leaned into the wall.

"You're not really ...."

Neel winked at me, tapping one end of the joint on the hard surface of the box.

"It's the first hour of school."

"No other way to survive. Nothing really happens. Just greetings and meetings ... blah, blah, instructions."

Resting a heel on the wall, he flicked a lighter, lit the joint, took three deep puffs and tilted his head back. "Why don't you try falling in love. We'll see how intelligently you manage it."