Volume One

The first volume

MARCUS

Much of my eighth grade life was ill spent—I won’t go as far as saying that I wasted it, but I’m surprised at how little of it I actually remember. It was a blur of weekend LAN parties, organizing the Dungeons and Dragons club every Wednesday at lunch, and discussing Halo 3 strategy with Allen and Colin in the time that was left over; our ultimate goal was to join the ranks of the Major League Gamers. I think it’s safe to say that I was a hard-core nerd in those days. High school gave me a fresh start, to say the least.

The last day of eighth grade brought clear skies and balmy temperatures. A hint of the chill night to come slipped down from the peaks to the north, but neither Allen, Colin, nor I took any notice. Colin was hunched over a notebook, alternately drafting an attack strategy with a rapidly dulling pencil and pushing his rebellious glasses back onto his face. Allen browsed the Dungeons and Dragons forum he frequented on his new laptop (a gift from his parents for earning straight As), while I sketched a design for our soon-to-be-created Halo clan on the back of my notebook. The clan was named (rather unimaginatively, I might add) the Winged Chieftains.

“It’s all about map control,” Colin muttered. He suddenly looked up, an unusual action for him. “Allen, if you can get the sniper—Allen! Stop looking up Elven priestesses and listen to me!” Allen’s gaze drifted away from his laptop. “Huh?”
“The sniper, Allen. Get the sniper so you can cover Marcus and I while we storm the other base. We’re playing ‘capture the flag’ tonight, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah, sniper, ok. I’m pro at sniper, you don’t need to remind me.” Allen went back to his forum. I think Allen was the only one of us who only played Xbox for fun.

Colin groaned and turned to me. “Your job, Marcus, will be to cover my back. Obviously Allen here won’t be able to get everyone because he’ll be too busy looking at his priestesses—” Allen typed a few more lines into his forum “—to do the job right. So we’ll be going in hot. If you get the machine gun, there’s one here and here—” he drew two small Xs on the map “—you can lay down suppressing fire, enough for me to run in and get their flag. Once I’m out it’s a one-way shot home.”

I scrutinized the crude map Colin had drawn up. “That gun runs dry pretty fast. What should I do if I run out of ammo?”
Colin stared at me as if I’d just sprouted fangs, told him that dinner was now, and that he was the first course. “Use your secondary weapon. Or grenades. Improvise, Marcus. I can’t plan for every conceivable situation.”

The warm air whipped the table we were sitting at, fanning the pages of my notebook and grabbing at the corners of Colin’s master plan. After a moment the breeze died and the only sounds were the screeching of bluejays and the general commotion of the other students, both of which seemed oddly distant to me. I was lost in my daydream, trying to imagine what tonight’s assault would look like. Then came a vehement curse, a string of words which I’m sure Allen’s conservative Asian parents never thought to teach him. Colin’s glasses tumbled from his face and clattered on the hot concrete beneath us. “D****t, Allen, what is it now?”


“The school’s wifi’s dead!” Allen swore again. “And I was in the middle of an upload, too!”


“You’re addicted to D&D, Allen. Anyone ever tell you that?”


Allen just shook his head. “I’m going home, guys. No wifi, no point. Get what I’m saying?” He zipped his laptop into its canvas sleeve and stood up. “Got a long walk, too.”


“Come to think of it,” I said, “My brother Justin’s going to be expecting me.”


“You guys have no work ethic,” Colin muttered. “I’m not moving until I’ve got this attack plan finished. Keep your cells on, you too. And remember, log in by 7:45. We need time to practice before the battle at 8:00.”

I nodded, but Allen just laughed in his short, Japanese way of laughing. “Ha! Who practices for a Halo match? Catch you later.” Then he left, his laptop bag swinging over his shoulder.

Colin glared at his diminishing figure. “He’s  why we lose!”


I didn’t want to get on Colin’s bad side, so I figured now would be a good time to retreat. “You’re right. But seriously, Justin will be expecting me.”


Colin flicked his wrist. “Go on, then. Just be on by 8:00.”

The day was warm, and school had let out early, but I was hardly paying attention to the details. The day faded to the background as I focused on the upcoming match, wondering what to do if Allen failed to show up and how we could incorporate him into our strategy if he did. Justin, too, remained filed away in my subconscious; I had never worried about him before, and I was sure he had never worried for me. The bond between brothers often times runs deep; so deep, it is often times ignored. Today, Justin was simply an excuse for me to escape Colin's obsessive planning.

After I got home, I shut the door, along with my connection to the outside world. I browsed the Internet until 6:00, ate for half an hour, then fired up my Xbox for a quick practice run before the big match. Lost in my own imagination and bathed in the soft radiation of a plasma TV, I would not notice until later how long it actually took for Justin to make it home.

Author's Note

not much