The Gamer's Guide to Getting the Girl Read online

  “We don’t have power.”

  “That’s why this’ll be easy. We just have to unload all of the drinks from the cooler.”

  Brandon nods, but he remains in place, staring blankly.

  “C’mon. I’ll help,” I say. He follows me to the cooler but his hands are shaking uncontrollably.

  “Dude, are you okay?” I ask. His face is drained of all colour.

  “I … I …” He starts tearing up.

  “Whoa, man, it’s okay,” I say, patting him on the back. “Let’s just sit down.”

  Brandon starts breathing heavily.

  “Deep breaths … deep breaths …” I say.

  Instead of taking a chair, Brandon curls up in a ball on the floor.

  “Just lie here,” I say. “I’ve got this.”

  My palms are sweaty. If Brandon can’t get it together, I’ll have to take charge. I’m not the kind of guy to take control of a situation. I’ve never had that kind of confidence. I think of all of these people needing to be fed and kept safe. In strategy games, the player often has to manage resources, population, and construction. This situation is going to take strategy. Planning and skillful thinking. Quick decision-making. A plan to build up resources. Like in the storm that closes in on you in Fortnite.

  “Is he okay?” It’s Samara.

  “I think he’s having a panic attack,” I tell her. “It’s okay. I can get the drinks.” I start working quickly.

  “Here, let me help,” Samara says, coming around the counter. The thought of working with her thrills me. I have to get to know this girl. She is magical.

  Together we line up all of the drink choices on the front counter.

  “I think if we put a few of each to start with and just replenish that drink as it’s taken?” she suggests.

  “Sounds great,” I say. I turn to check on Brandon. He stays curled into himself but he seems to be breathing easier.

  “Brandon, how are you doing?” He gives me a nod to let me know he’s okay. I glance at the Taco Time. A group of people surround the counter holding up their phones for light so that Olivia and her new team can make the burritos. I decide to keep stacking drinks so that we’re prepared for the onslaught of people. It’s never good to be unprepared in a difficult situation.

  Cooper is the first in line. “I don’t want your ugly mug to serve me,” he says.

  “You shouldn’t talk to girls like that,” I quip. Cooper’s eyes grow wide.

  “You think I’m ugly?” Samara turns to me, feigning surprise.

  I want to tell her that she’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, but Cooper isn’t going to miss a beat when it comes to talking to her.

  “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate …”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Shakespeare? C’mon,” Samara groans. “What’ll it be, Cooper?”

  He reaches for a ginger ale and spins over to the end of the counter closest to Samara. Even though we’re still technically in daylight hours, the light coming through the food court doors is pretty dim because of the storm.

  “Can you come and light up this area for us?” I ask Cooper. He pulls out his phone from his pocket and aims the light toward the drink counter.

  “Thanks, Coop,” Samara says. She’s calling him by his nickname already? How long have they known each other? Like, five minutes?

  I have to check myself. I’m being ridiculous. I’m crushing on a girl I don’t know and having raging jealousy when my best friend even looks at her. But her smile. Every time she laughs, her face lights up and her cheeks grow pink. The freckles on her nose wrinkle. Her emerald eyes practically sparkle, made all the more magical in the dim light of the iPhone flashlight. I am a goner.

  The crowd has been given their burritos and soon we have a long lineup for drinks. Samara and I work quickly and efficiently together. Our hands bump a few times when grabbing drinks and I freeze each time and hope that she doesn’t think I’m doing it on purpose. I mean, I want to hold her hand of course, but I’m not bumping her on purpose.

  “Nice work, Zach,” Samara says to me when the line ends. Our eyes meet but she quickly looks away. “Well, I’m going to go and get some food myself.” She brushes her hands on her thighs and walks around me to get out from behind the counter.

  I remember Brandon and check on him. He’s sitting up now but he still looks a little dazed.

  “Let’s get you some food,” I say. I help him up.

  “It’s all done?” he says, surprised.

  “Sure is. All you need to do is rest.”

  He nods at me gratefully. He follows me to Taco Time.

  Olivia is eating her own burrito but she puts it down as soon as she sees us.

  “No, no, don’t worry,” I assure her. “We can make our own. Eat!”

  She smiles and pats my cheek. “You’re a good boy, Zach.”

  I blush. George or Chris must have told her my name. George continues to shine his flashlight on the food prep area. I look around as Brandon starts fixing himself a burrito. Cooper and Samara are sitting next to one another on a table. She’s swinging her legs back and forth and smiling at Cooper. He’s getting all the time with her and I am not.

  Brandon and I finish making our food and join the rest of the people at the tables. It’s weird eating with strangers in the semi-dark. Valerie and Ira are at the table next to us and she’s feeding him bits of grated cheese and ground beef. He babbles and drools happily beside us, flashing his two front teeth.

  “Is that going to be good enough for him?” I ask Valerie.

  “Yeah, he’ll be fine.” Valerie smiles. “It’s almost his bedtime. I’m hoping it’ll help that the lights are out,” she says ruefully.

  Chris gazes over at Ira. He looks back at us.

  “I have to find a way to Ali.”

  “Any updates?” I ask.

  “No. But I can’t get through to anyone at the moment,” Chris says, studying his phone.

  We all pull out our phones.

  “I don’t have service,” Samara notices.

  “I can’t get through!” Nancy says. “I’ve got no service!”

  Others study their phones. Sure enough, there isn’t any cell service anymore. “It’s probably because of the storm,” George assures us. “I’m sure they’ll have us up and running again in no time. Lots of people are probably trying to get through at once.”

  He talks into his radio and soon two other security guards join us.

  “The mall is all clear,” one of them announces. He’s a tall, lanky guard who doesn’t look much older than me. His face is full of pockmarks, likely from acne. He certainly doesn’t look capable of saving us from any real danger. The other guard is an older gentleman, likely retirement age with white hair and a thin white moustache; he’s fairly short and has a pot belly. I know it sounds stereotypical but my instincts are telling me I’ll be relying on George for any real security.

  “Okay, we’re the last ones in the mall. This is Rory and Erwin,” says George. Rory is the tall one, and Erwin is the short one. “And I’ve just done a head count. There are thirty-two of us. I want us to stick together at all times. Unless you need to use the washrooms of course — which are right over there …” George points to the corridor where the washrooms are. “The police know that we’re here. They’re figuring out the best course of action. So we’re just going to have to sit tight for now. Get comfortable. It may be a while.”

  People groan. Valerie wipes Ira’s face. “Do you mind watching the stroller while I go and change him?” she asks me. She slings a diaper bag over her shoulder and has Ira in her other arm.

  “No problem,” I say. “Are you going to be okay without the lights?”

  “I’ve got my phone like everyone else,” Valerie says, chuckling. “I think I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you going to be Ira’s new daddy?” Cooper jokes when they walk away. Samara laughs and spits out some of
her drink. I feel a surge of anger at Coop’s words.

  “Ha, ha,” I mutter.

  “I’m going to go to the washroom,” Samara announces.

  “I have to go, too. I’ll walk with you,” Cooper says, following on her heels. I watch the two of them walk away together. Of course, the two of them have to hold on to each other to find their way through the dark. Chris sees my eyes narrow.

  “You okay, Zach?” he asks, looking back and forth from me to Cooper.

  “Fine.” I sigh.

  “Is it the girl?” he asks.

  “Is it that obvious?” I scrunch my face.

  “Only to me, I bet,” Chris says quietly. He leans in closer. “Can I tell you something?”

  I nod.

  “I mean, I feel like I’ve known you guys quite a while now,” Chris whispers. It’s true. We’ve been going to Gamer’s Haven faithfully for several years now. Our parents started bringing us to the original store in the rundown strip mall not too far from my house after Cooper got a PlayStation 3 and I got a Wii the Christmas we were ten. Chris moved the store into the new mall when it opened and, even though it was farther from both of us, we felt like we had to keep supporting both our habits and Chris by visiting the new location. I bet we were among his best customers. “She’s a pretty girl, there’s no doubt about that. Cooper’s a nice kid and all … but don’t count yourself out just yet.” He stands up to empty his tray in the garbage before I can say anything back. The truth is, I am pretty speechless. Valerie and Ira return and Ira’s eyelids are already fluttering.

  “Thank you so much, Zach. I can’t thank you enough for being so sweet. I’ve really appreciated the help.” She sets Ira in the stroller and covers him with a plush yellow blanket. He looks so tiny and innocent.

  “No problem, Valerie. I just hope you guys get to go home as soon as possible. It’s no fun being stuck in here.”

  “Well, that bridge being out sure makes things tricky. But I’m sure it won’t be too long. And I’d rather be in here than out there,” she says. I nod. Sure, the power is out, but as far as I can tell, we’ll be safest here.

  “Might as well make the best of it,” I say. Cooper and Samara come ambling out from the washrooms and slowly make their way back to the tables. She’s smiling at something he has said. That’s Coop. Always trying to crack jokes and be witty. I watch as he slings his arm around her shoulder for a brief moment and then takes it off. Maybe he’s worried he’s going too far, but Samara doesn’t seem to mind. They stare out the food court entrance doors from about twenty feet away. It is ugly out there. The doors rattle from the wind and the rain. Everyone sits in an unnerving silence, listening to the storm batter the building. There are creaks and bangs happening at random, and being in the semi-dark intensifies the creepiness of it all. Samara rubs her arms and then takes her scarf from around her neck and wraps it around her arms like a shawl. She and Cooper venture back to the table but keep glancing outside nervously.

  “Guess I’m not going out for my mom’s birthday,” Cooper says.

  A loud crack gives everyone a startle, and then almost without warning the glass from the food court entrance explodes and tiny diamond-like shards of glass blast through the air, blanketing the floor just beyond where we’re sitting. The sound is deafening; many people scream and cover their ears. Samara leaps toward me. I hold my arm over her protectively. The middle-schoolers start crying, and the elderly woman grabs on to her husband. Ira wakes with a start and starts crying along with them. Valerie holds him so tightly to her chest, I worry about how scared she is, too. Wind whips through the opening, whistling so loudly that we have to keep our ears covered. Water cascades through the door, slowly at first, but then it starts to pour through at a quicker pace. My heart thunders in my chest.

  “Are you okay?” I ask Samara. I’m shocked that she’s ended up in my arms. She nods but keeps her arms crossed protectively in front of her. I take my arm off of her. It was probably a fluke — a knee-jerk reaction from fear.

  George springs to his feet. “I need everyone to head back to the middle of the mall where the elevators are,” he says. “Let’s try to take any of the remaining drinks and food items with us. If we all work together we’ll be able to do this quickly and efficiently.”

  Most of the people stand still, taking in the scene before them. Water pushes the glass farther into the building, and the wind is so strong and cold that it feels like we aren’t in a building at all.

  We can’t stay in this area. It isn’t safe … but nobody moves. Being put in a difficult situation forces you to use your wits to figure out how to succeed. I think of how in Fortnite your team has to work together. You have to plan where to drop, and you have to do it quickly and together, otherwise you can’t help each other when things get rough. We’ve got to stick together.

  “Follow me!” I yell, hoping that people will follow. Chris, Cooper, Samara, and Valerie and Ira eagerly follow me out, hoping to get somewhere safer. Slowly, others start to follow.

  As we make our way out of the food court, George and the other security guards scramble to find something to cover the broken entrance to keep the elements out. The water isn’t going to stop coming in.

  “We have to find a way to secure this entrance,” George yells to Rory and Erwin. “Find what you can.”

  “We’ve got this,” Rory says to him. “You go with the others. We’ll catch up.”

  “Are you sure?” George looks back and forth from the blown-out door to the rest of us. I can see he’s reached a moment: a pivotal decision must be made. Do you remain with your team? Is there strength in numbers? George takes a deep breath and joins the rest of us.

  We shuffle back to the elevators, each of us carrying drinks or food items in case we need them for our next meal. Brandon’s pulling a cooler that’s been filled with the remaining food from Taco Time.

  “We’ll be safer in the middle,” I say.

  “Are you sure about that?” Cooper yells, pointing to the door to the stairwell that George had locked earlier.

  We all shine our lights toward the door, and sure enough, water is lapping at the base of it ever so slowly, like a tide coming in and out. George looks down through the little window in the door, and his face turns white. He reports that the water is coming up from underground now, which means that the parking lot is completely flooded.

  The man in the suit starts swearing and kicks the metal garbage can, making the elderly couple jump.

  Erwin and Rory appear.

  “Did you get that door secured?” George asks. He’s wiping sweat from his brow.

  “As best we could for now,” Rory says. “It’s not like we had a lot to work with.”

  “As long as it keeps the elements out for a while.”

  “Maybe we should be more worried about what’s coming in.” Edwin points to the door as he sees the water for the first time.

  “I know,” George says. “It doesn’t look good.”

  The three guards shine their lights around our surroundings until they land on the escalators nearby.

  “New plan,” Erwin says. “We’re heading upstairs.”

  TIP #4

  Stand up for what’s right

  “Aren’t you supposed to go lower if there’s a tornado?” I mutter. By going up to the second floor in a building with a glass roof, I can’t help but think we are practically bullfighting, daring this possible tornado to come after us. Apparently, I’m not the only one.

  “Is this a good idea?” the elderly gentleman says. “I remember back in 2007 there was an F5 tornado. No people died, but my sister’s dog Ginger was killed in that storm.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, but the tornado’s a long way off yet, and we should be able to leave before we have to worry about it,” Erwin says.

  “That tornado was in Elie, Manitoba,” the man says to no one in particular.

  George strokes his chin and looks around intently. “Change of plans,” he an
nounces.

  “What do you mean?” Erwin bellows.

  “He’s right. Heading higher isn’t safe if there’s a tornado warning. We need to stay down here.”

  Erwin shakes his head and fumes. “So, what? Staying where there’s water coming in is going to be safer?”

  “For now, yes,” George says pointedly. “We don’t know how close that tornado is. We’re better off staying in the centre of the mall. If the water becomes a serious problem, we re-evaluate.”

  “I disagree,” says Erwin.

  “Well, I’m the senior officer in charge here. I say we stay here.”

  What are the chances that the mall will actually flood anyhow? It doesn’t seem logical.

  The sound of water lapping at the bottom of the door distracts me. In a steady rhythm, it crawls out a little farther with every lap, like fingers stretching out, threatening to grab us. Just how much rain is there? How bad could things get? How could things have gotten so out of control when just hours ago it was a harmless rainy day?

  “Maybe we should ask them,” Rory pipes in. He turns to the crowd. “By show of hands, who wants to stay here and who thinks we should head upstairs?”

  All eyes turn to the lapping water at the door. Going upstairs feels safer at the moment.

  “Upstairs!” Nancy glances at Liam and Henry and many people murmur in agreement.

  “Is that what you all want to do?” asks George. Hands shoot up in quick succession. “I guess we’re heading upstairs then.” He sighs.

  “Sounds good to me,” Cooper says.

  George speaks through his radio but he’s just far enough from the group that all I can hear is muffled static.

  “So … it’s just a matter of waiting out the storm?” I ask no one in particular.

  “I guess,” Samara replies.

  “Were you here by yourself?” Cooper asks her, suddenly surprised at the realization.

  “Yes. Is that a problem?” Samara challenges.

  “No, not at all!” Cooper put his hands up. “Just used to seeing girls in packs all of the time.”

  Samara scoffs. “I’m pretty independent.”

  Cooper nods and breaks out into a huge smile. He’s falling for her, too. I can see it all over his face.