152. Go-Karts!
I entered the house with my phone in my pocket and a brown paper bag with a raspberry muffin and a cherry–jello donut.
"Die, die, die!" Roger was loud as ever.
"Hey, Roger, quit bumping into me!"
"Tim! Stop taking all the items! Owen's going to win!" Kaze yelled in full enthusiasm with a hint of panic.
"It's cutting it close!" Tim stood and leaned into the TV.
A car passed the finish line, and they all exhaled a groan, besides Roger, who stood tall as ever with a fist in the air.
"Winner!"
Owen hung his head low in disbelief. "Again?!"
"Hey, seriously?! This man was dead last for the entire game and ended up getting lucky items to pull him into first place. Is deliberately sucking at the start so you can have a happy ending worth it? Is that the strat? Did Roger, out of all people, figure out the algos?!"
"You could've worded the 'happy ending' part better." Kaze placed the gaming controller on the table. "Oh, Jill's back."
They turned their heads around simultaneously, as though sharing the same brain.
"Jill!" Roger said while walking up to me, with the others following.
"Hey, what's with the outfit? It looks… like it's a tad big."
"Oh, uh," No way in hell I could tell them the truth. "It's a new look I'm going for…?"
Owen examined my outfit, then gave a disappointing shake of the head. "New look? More like… ditch it and… revert to old…?"
"What does that even mean?" Kaze asked in total confusion.
I couldn't blame him.
"I tried coming up with an analogy."
"You also try a lot of things and fail. Stick to stuff you're good at."
"Roger, what the hell?"
I squeezed through that mess, entered the kitchen, grabbed a plate for my pasties, and sat at an available seat. As much as I love the boys, there was one thing that was on par with them: pastries. Something about them sent a burst of dopamine that flooded my brain. My taste buds danced like a party, and my stomach was always content.
The donut was soft and fluffy with white powder sprinkled on top. It had a light, golden-brown exterior. I licked my lips, opened wide, and prepared to engage in a bite.
That was until someone interrupted me.
"Jill, come play with us?"
"Eh?" I lowered the donut away from my mouth.
"Kaze wants to shower. Come play in the meantime."
Oh, so I was a replacement? I couldn't blame him. I was horrible at video games. Roger knew this and surprisingly asked.
I wanted to eat my donut in peace, but I wouldn't mind a little detour.
"You sure?" I asked while putting the donut on top of the paper bag.
"Roger! Jill! Hurry up!" Tim yelled from the other room.
He stammered and waved his hand, signaling me to come. I sighed and agreed.
"Great, Jill, sit on the couch." Owen offered his seat and sat on the ground with Tim. Roger took up space for two, and he was too big to sit comfortably on the ground.
Tim tugged on my knee. "Hey Jill, do you remember how to play?"
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"I think? And don't touch my knee."
It was a racing game with items and power-ups that you could use to your advantage. Most tracks consisted of twists and turns where drifting was mandatory. A fast-paced game with lots of stuff happening on the screen.
I played once. I didn't really remember the controls, other than how to move forward and use an item. Drifting was a later problem. As of now, the car collection appears.
The TV was split into four. My character was at the top right. I scrolled through the various cars and bikes available and chose the one with the highest speed. The faster the better, right?
"Hey, Owen, are you sure you want to pick the Baby Missile? Drifting on that is weak. I guess it's a bike, and the hitbox is smaller."
"Worry about yourself."
Tim shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just tryna help. Hey Jill, what's your thesis on picking the Red Phoenix? It doesn't have good off-roading, and the acceleration sucks. Though I guess the drifting and handling are decent."
"My thesis? Are you seriously asking that?" I didn't realize how analytical Tim got for a racing game.
"I'm just trying to understand the philosophy behind the car you chose, like, for example. Roger chose the Offroader. Great car for drifting and handling, especially when navigating through dirt or grass. But it isn't fast. Is Roger assuming he would be off-road since he can't steer properly?"
"Oi, Tim, pick your car and shut up. It's not that deep," Owen said with a straight face.
"Fine, fine. I'll pick the…" He dramatically pointed at the TV. "Baby Stroller! Perfect amount of handling for me to work with. Acceleration is decent with an extra pinch of speed. Its mini turbo is also high, perfect for post–drifting. And above all, it's a bike with a smaller hitbox. You are all at my mercy."
Mini–turbo? I didn't realize that was a stat. I was too focused on looking at speed. And what's this talk about us being at his mercy? Did he go insane?
"Time to pick a map! I say we do the classic circuit. Perfectly sized map with plenty of drifting." Tim said with sparkling eyes.
"Bet! I will knock you out so hard in–game and real life! Prepare to fall!"
"Roger, Roger, save your cockiness for after the match when you lose to Jill!"
That didn't make sense. Also, why was my name thrown?
A preview of the map showed more twists and turns than I could count. I didn't know how to drift, and I didn't care to ask.
I'll button-smash until I figure it out.
We were all on an equal playing field. I leaned forward and held the accelerator as the countdown began.
Tim yelled as the time ticked down to zero. "See you at the finish line!"
And the race was on.
I accelerated towards a small golden box that gave riders special abilities and power-ups. I didn't know what they did, but I figured it didn't matter since I was fighting a losing battle.
The boys were zoned into their own sections of the screen. You could hear the button smashing and groans. I took my time and slowly turned the corner since I didn't know how to drift.
The quietness only lasted so long.
"Is this easy mode?!" Tim yelled.
"Shut up, Tim! You're getting all the good power-ups!"
"Why am I gettin' the mini bullet?" Owen said in pure frustration. "You throw it at random and it never hits anyone!"
I never knew gaming could get this intense.
Let's see the item I got.
On the top left of my screen was a small ghost. I didn't know what that ghost did, but that was my item. Oh well, time to figure it out.
On second thought…
I decided to hold my item. I remember Kaze explaining how the game works a while back. Only one person could have a particular item at once. That means that if someone held the ghost in their pocket, then no one else could. I could keep it until the last second since no one could use whatever this was.
The boys were on their final lap while I just finished my second. The mood shifted into pure chaos and destruction. Insults were thrown left and right like a food fight. Yelling and screaming filled the house with noise. I quietly stayed in my lane and turned slowly on sharp turns.
"It's another close one!" Owen exclaimed.
The boys were toe–to–toe with each other. They closed in on the finish line, bumping into one another.
Since they were going to win, I used my item without thinking.
"WHAT!"
Tim's jaw dropped. "How did Jill win?!"
"Oh my God! It's a sneaky ghost in the pocket!"
"What?" I asked, beyond confused. "Wait, did I win?! Really!"
"She had a ghost, and we didn't realize. Fuck!"
"Wait, I'm confused," I said. "What does the ghost do?"
Roger fell on his knees. "She doesn't even know what it does…"
Yep, he sounded defeated.
Owen explained the ghost's ability. The ghost randomly swaps your position with someone ahead of you, and provides a mini–boost. It's a rare item and one of the best to hold if you're struggling. I didn't think they knew I pulled the ghost out of the first golden box, and I wasn't going to tell them. I must've switched places with Tim since he finished in last place.
"I lost to Jill…" Tim said, on the ground, in a somewhat plank position. "I lost to someone who can't use a computer." He looked at the ceiling with his palms facing upward. "Karma police, I've given all I can, and it's not enough. Please, help me, I don't want to lose myself."
"It's not that serious."
"It is that serious!"
I didn't understand why he snapped. I used something in the game and won. That's right, I won. I thought I would be happier or excited knowing I won. But I didn't feel that way. I didn't care that I won.
The boys bickered with one another. Owen and Roger verbally teamed up on Tim. I couldn't help but smile.
Win or lose…
This is what I cared about.