Gamer Girl by Mari Mancusi Page B
Authors: Mari Mancusi
Tags: United States, Fiction, General, People & Places, Family, Juvenile Fiction, Social Issues, Love & Romance, Massachusetts, divorce, School & Education, Sports & Recreation, Comics & Graphic Novels, Schools, New Experience, Marriage & Divorce, High schools, Moving; Household, Science & Technology, Games, Comic Books; Strips; Etc., Children of divorced parents, Cartoons and comics, Fantasy games, Role playing
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Billy's been my best friend
since kindergarten. I can't just ditch him."
"Right."
That made sense. In fact, in a weird way, it was kind of like Caitlin
and me. We'd been best friends forever,
67
and when she'd
jeer at the Aberzombies and poseurs back at our old school, I'd
always laugh, even though sometimes I felt bad for them. Now the
tables were turned. Maybe Chad and I were more alike than I realized.
I realized he
was still staring at me. "Uh ..." I tilted my head. "Did
you want. . . something else?"
"Actually,
yeah," he said. He shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out
another piece of paper. He unfolded it and dropped it on my desk. "I,
um, found this in a magazine. I thought, well, your drawings are
really good, maybe you'd like to enter or something."
I stared down
at the paper. It was a contest for young artists who wrote and drew
manga. My eyes widened as I read the rules. Create an original
graphic novel and send it in. First prize was publication and ten
thousand dollars.
So cool. A
chance to have my drawings seen and graded by a professional editor.
And if I won--actual publication! My story would be published in a
manga magazine. How cool would that be?
Not to mention
the cash prize. Ten thousand dollars would be enough for tuition back
at my old school. I could go back to my friends and never think of
Hannah Dustin High School ever again!
"Thanks,"
I said, my eyes shining, putting aside for a moment that the contest
entry form had been hand delivered by Billy's lackey. "This is
really cool."
"No prob,"
he said with a self-conscious shrug. He ran a hand through his
beautiful wavy blond hair. "You should
68
definitely
enter. You're really good. The elf totally reminds me of--"
"Chad!
Let's go!"
Chad froze in
his tracks at Billy's command from out in the hallway. He shot me an
apologetic look and backed away.
"Anyway,"
he said. "I'll, um, see you around."
And with that,
he turned tail and ran. I watched him go, shaking my head. Such a
waste of cuteness. It was nice of him to tell me about the contest,
though. And he said he liked my drawing. That was cool.
But at the end
of the day, I knew, none of that mattered. He was and would always be
one of the Haters. And thus, would always be the enemy.
69
CHAPTER 8
I ARRIVED home
from detention to a wild, raging party. Okay, it was a wild, raging
slumber party for eight-year-olds, but still, the noise level alone
should have gotten the cops to the door. Emily and ten other giggling
girls were taking up the entire living room, watching a Disney film
on Grandma's ancient television. There was a sick amount of food
strewn everywhere--pizza, chips, M&M's, chocolate cupcakes.
Enough to make all of them go into cardiac sugar shock. Something I
hoped happened sooner rather than later so I didn't have to hear the
giggles at two a.m. when I was trying to sleep.
"Um, hi,
guys," I greeted as I walked into the room. "Having fun?"
Instantly, I
had twenty-two eyes fixed on me. They ranged from curious to
suspicious to downright annoyed. Emily paused the movie, jumped up
from her seat, and marched straight over to me. She folded her skinny
little arms across her chest and glared at me with her ice-blue eyes.
70
"Mom said you would stay in your room and wouldn't disturb us," she
informed me. "Don't make me call her downstairs to remind
you."
Nice. After a
long day at school and detention, I got to come home and get pushed
around by an eight-year-old. "Uh, sure, Em," I retorted,
refusing to let her get the best of me. "But let's look at the
house layout here for a moment. You see, I have to pass
through this room to get to my room. . . ." I
paused then added, "I hope that my momentary presence doesn't
screw up Your Highness's evening too greatly."
Emily scowled,
looking as annoyed as if I had told her I was planning to plop down
on the couch and spend the next five hours sharing stories about her
thumb-sucking years with all her friends. "Fine. Make it
since kindergarten. I can't just ditch him."
"Right."
That made sense. In fact, in a weird way, it was kind of like Caitlin
and me. We'd been best friends forever,
67
and when she'd
jeer at the Aberzombies and poseurs back at our old school, I'd
always laugh, even though sometimes I felt bad for them. Now the
tables were turned. Maybe Chad and I were more alike than I realized.
I realized he
was still staring at me. "Uh ..." I tilted my head. "Did
you want. . . something else?"
"Actually,
yeah," he said. He shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out
another piece of paper. He unfolded it and dropped it on my desk. "I,
um, found this in a magazine. I thought, well, your drawings are
really good, maybe you'd like to enter or something."
I stared down
at the paper. It was a contest for young artists who wrote and drew
manga. My eyes widened as I read the rules. Create an original
graphic novel and send it in. First prize was publication and ten
thousand dollars.
So cool. A
chance to have my drawings seen and graded by a professional editor.
And if I won--actual publication! My story would be published in a
manga magazine. How cool would that be?
Not to mention
the cash prize. Ten thousand dollars would be enough for tuition back
at my old school. I could go back to my friends and never think of
Hannah Dustin High School ever again!
"Thanks,"
I said, my eyes shining, putting aside for a moment that the contest
entry form had been hand delivered by Billy's lackey. "This is
really cool."
"No prob,"
he said with a self-conscious shrug. He ran a hand through his
beautiful wavy blond hair. "You should
68
definitely
enter. You're really good. The elf totally reminds me of--"
"Chad!
Let's go!"
Chad froze in
his tracks at Billy's command from out in the hallway. He shot me an
apologetic look and backed away.
"Anyway,"
he said. "I'll, um, see you around."
And with that,
he turned tail and ran. I watched him go, shaking my head. Such a
waste of cuteness. It was nice of him to tell me about the contest,
though. And he said he liked my drawing. That was cool.
But at the end
of the day, I knew, none of that mattered. He was and would always be
one of the Haters. And thus, would always be the enemy.
69
CHAPTER 8
I ARRIVED home
from detention to a wild, raging party. Okay, it was a wild, raging
slumber party for eight-year-olds, but still, the noise level alone
should have gotten the cops to the door. Emily and ten other giggling
girls were taking up the entire living room, watching a Disney film
on Grandma's ancient television. There was a sick amount of food
strewn everywhere--pizza, chips, M&M's, chocolate cupcakes.
Enough to make all of them go into cardiac sugar shock. Something I
hoped happened sooner rather than later so I didn't have to hear the
giggles at two a.m. when I was trying to sleep.
"Um, hi,
guys," I greeted as I walked into the room. "Having fun?"
Instantly, I
had twenty-two eyes fixed on me. They ranged from curious to
suspicious to downright annoyed. Emily paused the movie, jumped up
from her seat, and marched straight over to me. She folded her skinny
little arms across her chest and glared at me with her ice-blue eyes.
70
"Mom said you would stay in your room and wouldn't disturb us," she
informed me. "Don't make me call her downstairs to remind
you."
Nice. After a
long day at school and detention, I got to come home and get pushed
around by an eight-year-old. "Uh, sure, Em," I retorted,
refusing to let her get the best of me. "But let's look at the
house layout here for a moment. You see, I have to pass
through this room to get to my room. . . ." I
paused then added, "I hope that my momentary presence doesn't
screw up Your Highness's evening too greatly."
Emily scowled,
looking as annoyed as if I had told her I was planning to plop down
on the couch and spend the next five hours sharing stories about her
thumb-sucking years with all her friends. "Fine. Make it
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