The Summer I Became a Nerd

#26

There’s an encouraging text from Terra on my phone when I park behind the last car in front of Tommy’s, a.k.a. game master

Sorenson’s, house.

Terra: Good luck! I know you’re gonna kick that evil fairy’s AZZ!

I explained everything to Terra at the aquarium, and she’s totally excited about the whole thing. Her text makes me feel just a

tiny bit bolder. Which means my boldness level is…a tiny bit.

For a full week, almost everything I’ve done has been in preparation for this moment; all those sessions with Martha, all those

late nights spent reading about LARP of Ages or as those in the know call it, LoA. Now I just have to put it all to use. So, why

can’t I bring myself to get out of this stupid car?

Headlights shine in my rearview mirror as someone parks behind me. I scoot down in my seat and watch as a group of dark fairies

pile out of Kelsey’s familiar black Beetle. Or maybe they have a specific word used to describe a group, like a gaggle of geese.

I’m more inclined to call them a murder, like crows. Yes, a murder of dark fairies is appropriate because goodness knows their

wardrobe of black on black makes them resemble the winged creatures. Their cackling at some joke Kelsey just made sends a shiver

down my spine, reminding me of that old scary movie where all the birds go crazy and attack the humans. Then again, I could be

being a little overdramatic.

Thankfully, they don’t notice me when they pass my car. They go inside, their tattered black wings bumping against the door

frame. Just seeing her renews my courage, not that it was ever really there to begin with. I get out of my car before I can talk

myself out of it. A curse escapes my lips when I notice she parked way too close to my bumper.

My high heels click on the wooden front porch as I approach the door, echoing in my mind like a countdown to detonation. Again, I

open the door before I can really think about what is about to happen.

I accidentally slam the door behind me, and every head turns in my direction. My thoughts waffle for a moment as the part of my

brain that’s all about running and hiding screams at me to get out of here. But New Me snaps at Old Me like a master Jedi would a

young Padowan who just used the force to bring the TV remote to him. I tilt my head up, channeling my inner elven princess, and

head for the back door. The gazes of every creature in the game follow me.

I step into the crunchy grass, dry and dying from the heat. The ground is so lacking in moisture my heels don’t sink the least

bit into the dirt. I glance around as I walk to the far end of the yard. Tommy is decked out in full wizard garb, of course. When

he sees me, he nods with respect. Martha has been talking with him on and off during our sessions. He’s the game master so, of

course, he knows what I’ve been up to. I return the nod.

I find Dan with the rest of his clan. Once again, I trade nods. Even if our characters don’t know each other, technically, he’ll

still have my back if things get out of hand. A few days ago, when I was at his house to speak to his dad about sponsoring the

phase two of my plan, Dan told me he wouldn’t let me go down.

“Number one, Kelsey deserves it,” he said, “Ever since your jock boyfriend clocked Logan—which I’m seriously pissed about,

but I won’t take it out on you—she’s been spending every waking minute at the shop. I know she’s just using him for his access

to the radio waves, trying to get her boyfriend’s songs played, and I’m sure Logan knows it, too, but she’s trying to give him

hope they might get back together one day. Number two, my character is always looking for a fight. So, it’s believable he’d jump

in if things got crazy.”

No wonder Logan has put up with Dan’s insanity for so long. Talk about fierce loyalty.

Every one of the four bright fairies turn to me with warm smiles as step I up to their circle. This is a big part of the plan. The

bright fairies see the dark fairies as fallen sisters. One of the main goals in any bright fairy’s life is to “return” as many

dark fairies to the light as possible.

“Well met, elf,” the shortest one says. Her face sparkles with glitter powder making her look like she just stepped off a

constellation. She wears a daisy chain as a headband in her white blond, pixie-cut hair, and her iridescent wings remind me of a

dragonfly.

“Well met.” I echo the classic fairy greeting. “I am Laowyn, and I come to you to humbly ask a favor.”

When she responds with, “I’m Sha-ra,” I know I’ve found the girl Martha wanted me to talk to. This girl’s real name is

Courtney, and despite her short stature and youthful appearance, I know she’s twenty-two. She’s been playing for five years, she

attends the big convention in New Orleans every year, and her character from two years ago became the Overseer (which is kind of

like a mayor) of the Natchitoches and Shreveport LoA territories. I’m intimidated, to say the least, not only because of her

experience at LARP, but also—and I know this is ridiculous—because she’s over the legal drinking age.

“These are my bright sisters, and we are always willing to help others as long as it is a good cause. Is this a good cause?” Her

every movement is regal.

“The best,” I say. Her mouth quirks up at that.

I look her in the eyes, then glance in the direction of the murder of dark fairies. Hopefully, she understands what I’m trying to

say without me having to say it. Martha put it best the other day when she said, “Even if there isn’t anyone near you to

overhear your conversation, one never knows what powers others hold and what they notice.”

Knowing all these little ins and outs of this game makes me feel so empowered. I’m a geeky badass, and I’m loving it.

“In that case,” she says, “we shall help in whatever way you require as long as it does not put any of us in danger.”

“None of you will even have to step foot near a battle. I just need any potions you’re willing to give. Healing is something I’

ve not yet mastered.”

Considering the amount of experience points I’ve earned while working with Martha, I should have the healing ability, but I spent

them on other powers all because I’m counting on the bright fairies’ help. They’re the only race that holds the knowledge it

takes to create these potions.

“Could you give us a moment to discuss this?”

“Of course,” I say.

I take up a spot in the shadow of a large gardenia bush on the edge of the yard. Courtney and her fairies are deep in

conversation, heads together, so I take the opportunity to scan the other players, desperate to see Logan. I find him quickly. He

sits in the exact same lawn chair across the yard as he did the first game. His elbows rest on his knees, his head is down, and

his hands grasp the back of his neck. He hasn’t even put on his makeup. I wonder if he’s noticed I’m here.

Sorenson calls for everyone’s attention. I stay in my shadowed spot as he gives practically the same speech he gave last time I

was here. Apparently, no one else has been trying to find out what’s going on with the humans in our town like I have because he

gives no new information on that front. My eyes dart over to watch Kelsey as he says this. Her arms are crossed. An evil smirk is

plastered on her face.

God, I hope this works.

When Sorenson finishes, the bright fairies are waiting to talk to him. I hope they’re informing him that over the past couple of

weeks, they’ve each brewed a potion. And sure enough, after a quick back and forth, Tommy reaches into his robe and pulls out

some index cards. He writes something on them and gives one to each of the girls.

Courtney begins to search the crowd as they return to their spot at the end of the yard, so I step out of my shadow. Everyone from

inside has crowded into the backyard. I go unnoticed as I walk by Courtney. I casually open my bag so she can discreetly slip the

index cards in it. I whisper a quick, “Thank you.”