Tournament Trouble Read online

  For my 3 Es

  —S.C.

  Chapter 1

  I hammer the buttons on my controller.

  Fireball.

  Miss.

  Double fireball.

  Miss again.

  Holy crap, this guy is fast! I can’t land anything. “C’mon, Kaigo . . .”

  “I know you always play Kaigo, Jaden, but the dragon-cross is only cool if his fireballs actually hit the opponent.”

  “Thanks, Dev. You want to try?”

  I’m in my living room with my friends, Devesh and Hugh. Like most of our gaming sessions, this one started out with us playing each other but ended up with them watching me battle random people online. On screen, two guys in karate gear are beating the crap out of each other.

  Fortunately, I’ve never been in a real-life fight. I wouldn’t have a chance. But playing my favorite game, Cross Ups IV, I haven’t lost a battle in four months. Then again, I’ve never played against Kn1ght_Rage before.

  I whiff another fireball combo when Kn1ght_Rage jumps out of range—again.

  “Aw, dude, you almost had him,” Hugh says.

  “Not even close.” As usual, Devesh is keeping it real. “No offense, J, but you’re getting owned. Who is this Kn1ght_Rage guy, anyway?”

  “I see him online all the time,” Hugh says.

  Devesh turns to Hugh. “Oh yeah? You ever play him?”

  “Once . . . kinda. I left the match before it ended.”

  “You mean you rage quit.” Devesh punches Hugh in the arm.

  “No . . .”

  “Would you guys shut up? I’m trying to concentrate here.”

  WHAM! The screen flashes a burst of gold and Kn1ght_Rage’s avatar, Blaze, transforms into a phoenix, flapping huge golden wings that send shock waves into me. “How’d he hit me with that Solar Burst? I was blocking!”

  “Use your Dragon Breath,” Hugh says.

  “I will—as soon as I can move again—stupid hit stun! What the . . .?” I drop my move when Kn1ght_Rage disappears for a second and then reappears, attacking me from behind. “Ugh! I forgot Blaze can teleport. Take that!” I yell as I activate Dragon Breath. Kaigo transforms into a dragon and breathes fire, but my opponent jumps away just in time. “Aaah! I can’t get any moves in.”

  I slam the back button to block the shock waves from the next Solar Burst, but for some reason I still take the punishment. “Why isn’t my block working?”

  “Look at your Health Meter. You’re going to die from chip damage at this rate.”

  “Shut up, Dev.”

  “But hey, your Super Meter’s full again,” Hugh says.

  “Yeah, go for it,” Devesh says. “But you’d better do some serious damage or it’s over.”

  There’s only one move that can get me the win. Kaigo’s biggest Super: Dragon Fire.

  I hear car doors slamming outside. If that’s my mom, I’m so dead. I should turn off the game, but I can’t let my streak end like this. Panic makes me go nuts on the controller—a total button mash.

  “C’mon . . .”

  Miraculously, Kaigo transforms into his dragon side and whirls into a tornado of gray smoke that cuts right through Blaze. Blaze crumples and his Health Meter dives. Now we’re both one hit from defeat.

  I glance at the clock—6:22 p.m. I don’t hear any more noise outside. Maybe it was the neighbors’ car? I use my bread-and-butter combo: two crouching light punches back to back, followed by Dragon Claw.

  K.O.

  “Whaaaaaaat!?!” My friends scream and jump from the couch.

  Devesh points to the TV. “The streak continues!”

  Hugh throws his hefty form onto the carpet at my feet, bowing and chanting, “You are the master.”

  “Am I dreaming?” I let the controller drop to the floor. “No, seriously. Am I asleep? Someone hit me.”

  Devesh and Hugh pile on top of me and pummel me with jabs.

  “I’ve never seen that Super.” Hugh settles his glasses back in place.

  “That’s because I’ve only ever hit it one time. The timing is crazy hard.”

  Devesh helps me up off the carpet. “We’ve got to start streaming your battles. That was godlike!” His phone bings and he pulls it out of his pocket. “I gotta go. I was supposed to meet my dad ten minutes ago. He just texted me from the car in all caps.” He grabs his bag and walks backward out of the living room.

  “Hold up. I gotta go too, dude. Think your dad will give me a ride?” Hugh grabs his things and runs after Devesh, breathing hard by the time he gets to the end of the hall.

  “You live on the other side of town. Why you always asking me for a ride? Train your dad better.” Their voices trail off until the door slams shut behind them.

  I’m still staring in disbelief at the TV. My arm muscles twitch like I’m the one who physically battled. Of course, those muscles are scrawny compared to Kaigo’s, rippling through his black kung fu uniform. His win quote at the bottom of the screen reads:

  If I looked like that, I’d be confident too.

  Just as my thumb descends on the power button, a message pops up on the screen.

  Players don’t usually message after a fight, unless they’re friends. I hesitate but don’t want to be rude after the guy complimented me on a good game. I write back:

  Within seconds, another message:

  Can I? I have no idea how I pulled off the Dragon Fire Super. But there’s no way I’m going to admit that. I type:

  My thumbs tap the controller. The Top Tiers Tournament, or T3, is the biggest fighting game tournament in the city. Imagine, competing like Yuudai Sato? That guy is godlike. But there’s no way I can compete. With my mom, it’s not an option.

  I write back:

  My curiosity battles with the ticking clock—6:31 p.m. More car doors slam outside. That has to be Mom. Quickly I type:

  The answer takes forever. When it finally comes, it just raises more questions.

  A key turns in the lock and I automatically go into shutdown mode, powering off the TV and game console and sliding the controller under the cushion next to me. Then I flip open my math book and try to act bored, hoping my mom won’t notice my shaking hands.

  Chapter 2

  Y N0T?

  Kn1ght_Rage’s question pulses in my mind as I listen to my mom starting dinner in the kitchen. I need to think, so I head out the front door. The warm spring air puts me in the mood for ice cream.

  Someone’s sitting on the swing on the other side of the porch. Cali’s wearing a navy T-shirt and jeans. Her long, black hair fluttering in the breeze is the only sign that she’s a girl. Her family’s house is attached to ours, and we share a huge porch. All the other semi-detached houses on our street have a railing to separate the front porch into two sides. But since Cali and I spent so much time running back and forth to each other’s houses when we were little, my dad took down the railing so we wouldn’t hurt ourselves climbing over it.

  Cali’s just sitting there, staring straight ahead like there’s a movie screen across the street.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “Crappy day,” she answers.

  “Sunshine’s?”

  She nods, and we head down our shared front steps and up the street to the local ice cream shop. It’s been a while since me and Cali hung out. We’re almost the same age, but my December birthday puts me a year ahead of her in school. Now that I’m in grade seven, we don’t go to the same school anymore.

  Along the way, I tell Cali about Kn1ght_Rage and T3.

  “So, what are you gonna d
o?” she asks.

  “Not sure. I really want to go. Man, I wish my mom was normal.”

  “Your mom is normal. She’s just a bit over-protective.”

  “Normal? Don’t you remember when she turned off The Fox and the Hound because the hunter had a gun? I mean, seriously! It’s a Disney movie!”

  “She was probably just worried we would be scared.”

  “We were eleven! It’s so stupid. She bans anything violent for no reason. It’s not like watching that stuff actually makes kids fight. I haven’t changed since I started playing Cross Ups, have I?”

  “Well, I haven’t seen you much lately . . . how do I know you haven’t been beating up little kids for ice cream money?”

  “Ha, ha. Anyway, I can’t exactly use that as an argument. ‘Hey Mom, I’ve been playing fighting games for years now and there haven’t been any negative effects on me.’”

  “Yeah, that’s not going to work because then there will be a negative effect on you.” Cali laughs.

  “Like my mom beating me!” I take a fake swing at my own face and Cali laughs harder.

  “You know, my mom always says your mom’s a real tough woman,” Cali says. “She says it in this mysterious way—like there’s a secret she can’t tell me. Maybe your mom used to be a street fighter in the old days.”

  I try to imagine a young version of Mom, throwing jabs in a back alley in Taipei, but in my mind she’s still wearing the black pants and white button-down shirt she wears to work at the diner every day.

  The jingling bells on the door let Mrs. Sunshine know we’ve arrived. I don’t know her real name, but that’s what we’ve always called the lady behind the counter. Goosebumps form on our arms when we hit the cold air of the shop. We place our usual orders: strawberry cheesecake for Cali and vanilla for me, and Mrs. Sunshine piles the cones full.

  The bells jingle again and my sister, Melanie, comes in with her boyfriend, Roy. She sees Cali at the register paying and her eyes light up. “What’s this? You’re not even going to pay for Cali’s cone? Come on, J, you’ll never win her over that way.”

  “What? So you think I’m going to pay for your cone now?” Roy pulls Melanie to him.

  “You always do, babe.” Melanie gives him a quick kiss.

  My cheeks feel like Kaigo just breathed fire on them. I look over at Cali on the way out of the shop, but there’s no reaction on her face.

  “Sorry,” I say. “You know Melanie.”

  “No worries.” She takes a lick of her ice cream and smiles. “Remember when we were in kindergarten and our moms dressed us up like a bride and groom for Halloween?”

  “Yeah. And the next year we were Cinderella and Prince Charming. I only agreed so I could have a sword.”

  “And you kept poking me with it.” She licks her cone thoughtfully. “Wait, were you already playing those video games back then?”

  “No, not in grade one. Hey, so playing video games has actually made me less violent.”

  Back in front of our houses, Cali points up. The cherry tree in our shared front yard is full of pink blossoms and the light from the setting sun is making it glow like a Photoshopped picture.

  “Hey, you never told me why your day was crappy.” I shove the last bit of my cone into my mouth.

  “Another time.” She dashes up the steps and into her house before I can push for details.

  Chapter 3

  In math class the next day, Mr. Efram writes the problem of the day on the board.

  “Yeah,” I whisper to Devesh and Hugh, “one invitation to a way cool video game tournament plus two parents who refuse to let you play any violent games. What does that add up to?”

  The three of us always work as a group on the problem of the day. Actually, ever since we met each other in math on our first day at Layton, we’ve done everything together.

  “You have to go,” Devesh whispers back. “You think Yuudai Sato would back out of a challenge? If you want to be the best, you have to show everyone you can bring it.”

  “Yeah, maybe if I build a time machine and skip ahead eight months to my birthday.” I crumple on my desk. “I looked up the tournament last night. Since Cross Ups IV is 13A, I’d need my parents to come with me and sign a consent form. That’s not going to happen.”

  Mr. Efram finishes writing on the board, runs his hand over his bald spot, and turns to the class. Like every day, he points his thumb to the poster on the wall with the problem-solving steps. “Remember—be a user of USAR. Understand, Strategize, Attack, and Reflect.”

  The problem of the day is: A wizard has counted fourteen animal feet in his home. He only has werewolves and bats. What are all the possible combinations of werewolves and bats the wizard might have?

  “What kind of loser only counts feet?” Devesh jokes. “That’s the real problem. Count the heads, idiot.”

  The classroom buzzes as students start talking in groups.

  “Just ask your parents,” Devesh says, more interested in my tournament trouble than in work.

  “My parents don’t even know I play.”

  “So tell them. And tell them you’re real good too.”

  “Are you crazy, dude?” Hugh says. “He can’t just tell them he’s been doing stuff he’s not supposed to do. Not all parents are like yours.”

  “Everyone our age plays Cross Ups. It’s not nearly as bloody as Real War or Mega Haunt.”

  I sigh. “You don’t get it. Even Josh isn’t allowed to play.”

  Devesh’s monobrow shoots up. “What? But your brother’s sixteen! He has his driver’s license and his mommy won’t let him play video games? That’s messed up.”

  “You guys play together all the time,” Hugh says.

  “Not when our parents are around. Mom flips out at us when it comes to that stuff.” I wag my finger at my friends and use my mom’s Chinese accent. “Play violent game, lead to violent action.”

  Hugh and Devesh let out a burst of laughter, and Mr. Efram looks up from his desk.

  “Why is your mom so against fighting?” Devesh says. “She comes from the land of kung fu. My parents are from the land of Gandhi and non-violence, but they couldn’t care less about me going on a killing spree in a game.”

  “That’s because your parents let you do whatever you want, dude.” Hugh understands. His parents are divorced and he lives with his dad, who’s kinda strict too. He’s not so concerned about violence, but he does limit Hugh’s screen time. Me and him are probably the only kids at Layton who don’t have a cellphone.

  “You want to trade and live at my house? Trust me, the Meanies would drive you crazy!” Devesh calls his three older sisters—Meenal, Shamini, and Minisha—“the Meanies,” even though they mostly just spoil him like his parents do.

  Hugh pushes his glasses back in place. “Uh, guys, Mr. E is still looking at us.”

  We work out all the possible combos to answer the problem of the day. I take notes with black marker on the big sheet of chart paper.

  “Three werewolves and one bat,” says Hugh.

  “Two werewolves and three bats,” says Devesh. “And one werewolf and five bats.”

  “Let’s put zero werewolves and seven bats too, just in case he’s trying to trick us.”

  “Good idea,” Devesh says. “Mr. E loves that kind of thing.”

  While I write the reflection sentence that Mr. Efram always insists on, Hugh’s attention is focused on something in the next row. He uses his math book as a cover and whispers, “Ty and Flash are doing it again.”

  I glance over. Ty, shielded behind his long blond hair, is obviously reading the answers from our paper to Flash. And just like a faithful sidekick, Flash is scribbling them down. The lightning streaks shaved into his tight black curls practically pulse with the effort.

  “Just ignore them,” I say.

 
“They always copy our work.” Hugh turns his bulky frame to physically block the other boys’ view.

  “They’re just lazy,” Devesh says.

  “But they do it every day now, dude.”

  “Then let’s just do this.” Devesh turns our paper over on the desk.

  Ty yells, “Why you turning over your paper? You think we’re copying you?”

  “How’d you notice he turned over the paper so fast if you weren’t looking at it in the first place?” Hugh calls back.

  “What’s going on here?” Mr. Efram walks over to us.

  “Nothing.” I give my friends a look that says drop it. “We’re done, sir. Can we start on our homework now?”

  I can almost feel a red dot on my forehead from Ty’s laser glare.

  Of course, we don’t actually start our homework.

  “I need to come up with a way to go to T3.”

  Hugh shakes his head. “Sorry, dude. We’re smart but not that smart. If you can’t convince your parents, it’s not going to happen.”

  “Unless you lie about your age . . .,” Devesh says.

  Chapter 4

  When I get home from school I hear the familiar sounds of a battle coming from the living room. The music is loud, and with all the grunts and explosions I know Josh didn’t hear me come in. I loop through the kitchen so I can enter the living room from behind the couch.

  I drop to the floor and crawl, military-style, toward the couch so I don’t make any shadows that might give me away. The image from the TV screen reflects on the glass doors of the cabinet next to me.

  Josh is playing his main, Cantu, the hydra-cross. In Cross Ups, all the characters start out as human fighters and turn into mythical creatures when they perform their Super moves. I watch and wait for him to play one of Cantu’s Supers. When her neck divides into the multiple serpent heads of Hydra, I launch myself over the couch and tackle Josh to the ground, sending the controller flying through the air.