1
“Last week!” was the call of every eager student at Turner's high school. Turner didn't care—it didn't change anything. He tapped his pen on his desk gritting his teeth and grinding them the other way when someone made mention of it. About five girls walked by his classroom door, chanting it over and over as they made their way to class, like it was a victory call. Turner's head fell to the desk with a thud.2
“Turner?” a voice called from behind. It was a soft, gentle voice, the voice of his friend Cheyenne.3
“Yes?” he answered, not lifting his head from the desk and not making an attempt at enthusiasm.4
“It's the last week of school. Aren't you psyched?”5
Turner's head arose from the desk and turned to face his friend. She was smiling. A warm smile, the kind that can influence the bitterest of people to smile back—and thus, Turner did so. He calmed down a little at this, and said, “It might be the last week, sure, but it's only the Monday of the last week. This is like the worst day of all no matter whether it's the first, last, or in-between week of the school year.”6
Cheyenne laughed. She looked Turner over, and Turner did the same in return. Her hair was short, coming down barely past her jaw, and a reddish brown. Her chin was well rounded, and her nose a subtle point on her face. But her most distinguishing feature, one that Turner always latched onto the longest, was the freckles under her eyes. They always drew his gaze, and emphasized the blue of her eyes so that he could not turn away from either feature. He had always wanted to count the freckles, but doing so could prove an awkward and difficult task.7
She leaned in a little closer. “You know, it is the last Monday of school. The rest of your Mondays will be during summer, so they'll all be yours.”8
Turner turned back and set his head on the desk. “Until college.”9
Cheyenne sighed and nudged Turner in the back. “C'mon. You have to have some sort of plans for summer, right?”10
He shrugged. “Probably just going to play that game when I get bored—because I will get bored.”11
“What game? You mean Magikor?”12
Turner turned around. “You've heard of it?”13
“Heard of it? I've been playing it for a few months now!”14
“Funny. I never thought of you as the gaming type.”15
“Well, your brother got me into it.”16
Turner rolled his eyes. Why would Alex be talking to Cheyenne? Wait—why would he be talking with Cheyenne? Best not to ask, he figured. “I guess my plans are just the same then.”17
“Yeah. Maybe we'll find each other and we can play together!”18
The bell rang. Turner set his head down on the desk, aware that whatever his teacher was about to say wouldn't matter. It was the end of the school year, so there was nothing left to learn.19
20
That day at lunch, Turner sat by himself. He ate his food slowly, not lifting his eyes from the plate.21
“So, what's your name?” a voice interrupted. He looked up to see Cheyenne again.22
He finished chewing his food and answered. “My name is Turner, and you are?”23
“No, silly,” Cheyenne said as she sat down next to him. “I mean in the game.”24
“Oh, it's—” He thought for a moment. “You know, I can't remember.”25
“Do you have a card? That should have your account name on it.”26
Turner took a leather wallet from his pocket and pulled out the little card. “Trigger,” he read.27
“Cool. Then I'll know how to find you.” She smiled and, once again, Turner smiled back.28
Then someone he didn't recognize sat down with them. “You're in the game?”29
“Who the hell are you?” Turner said.30
“Good. Take this. Don't lose it.” He slid two cards—almost like business cards—across the table and left.31
“Who was that?” Turner asked again.32
Cheyenne shrugged. “Beats me. Wonder what these are.” She picked up one of the cards, and Turner the other. “It's information on a guild.”33
“A what?”34
“Guilds are groups that Players can join to collaborate and team up for certain events and such.”35
Turner looked at the card. “ 'Knights of Euphoria.' What's that supposed to be?”36
“They probably named it after the company the game is made by, Euphoria Gaming. Your game card should say EuG on it. That's the abbreviation.”37
“I see,” Turner said as he flicked the card away.38
“Hey! You should keep that. Guilds are usually good for helping out new Players.” Cheyenne looked over to where it had landed: on the floor, on the other side of the table. She looked back up to Turner and held his shoulder apologetically. “I'd really love to stay and eat with you, but I've got to go see some of my other friends. They aren't planning to come the rest of the week.”39
She got up to leave, but Turner said, “Wait! How will I know it's you in the game if I see you?”40
Cheyenne stopped and turned back. She gave a sort of wink, then said, “You'll know when you see me.” Then she left.41
Turner walked around the table and over to the card. It had landed upside down, and there were words on the back he hadn't seen before:42
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Trust no one.44
You are alone.45
46
“Cheyenne!” Turner called out, but she was out of sight. He read the message one more time, and tucked the card away in his pocket.47
He overheard a conversation about the last week of school, sighed, and left the cafeteria.48
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