Prologue- Sarah
I wake up before my alarm, which never happens. Usually Mom has to call up the stairs three times before I drag myself out of bed, but today feels different. Today I have that quiz in social studies, and for once, I actually studied. I know all the state capitals and most of the major rivers. Mrs. Henderson is going to be so surprised.
Maybe if I get an A, Dad will ask me how I did this time instead of just grunting when Mom mentions it at dinner.
Downstairs, Mom is doing her morning tornado thing: coffee mug in one hand, lunch money in the other, scanning the counter for her car keys while simultaneously trying to get my little brother Mason to eat something besides the marshmallows he's picked out of his cereal.
"Sarah, honey, did you see my…oh, there they are." She grabs her keys from beside the toaster. "Remember, straight to Grandma's after school, okay? No detours."
"I know, Mom."
She kisses the top of my head without really looking at me. Dad's already gone. He left before I came downstairs. He has early meetings on Tuesdays. Or maybe every day. I don’t really know.
Mason is making explosion sounds while his cartoon characters fight on the TV. He's seven and still thinks everything is about superheroes and space battles. I used to watch those shows with him, but lately they seem babyish. Lately, everything seems babyish except the fantasy novels I check out from the school library and the messages from my friend in Kingdom Builders.
I grab my backpack from the kitchen chair, making sure my tablet is tucked safely in the inner pocket. I'm not supposed to bring it to school, but I like to check my messages during lunch when the teachers aren't paying attention. Besides, it's not like I'm playing games during class or anything. I just like knowing that someone might have written to me.
"Love you, sweetie," Mom calls as I head for the door. "Have a good day!"
"Love you too."
But she's already turned back to Mason, trying to convince him that toast is an acceptable breakfast food.
The walk to school is always the same. Down Hawthorn Street, left on Oak, then three more blocks to Gerald Ford Elementary. I like the routine of it, the way the same dog barks from behind the same fence every morning, the way Mrs. Patterson waves from her garden if she's outside watering her flowers.
Today she's not outside, which is probably good because I'm walking faster than usual. I want to get to school early so I can review my notes one more time before the quiz.
School is school. First period is math, which I hate because Mr. Garcia always calls on people randomly and I never know the right answer when he picks me. Second period is English, which I love because we're reading "The Secret Garden" and Mary Reminds me of myself sometimes. She’s lonely and stubborn and maybe a little bit angry at everyone.
During reading period, I lose myself in the new fantasy book I checked out yesterday. It's about a girl who discovers she has magical powers and gets invited to join a secret academy. The main character reminds me of myself too, except she's brave and special and people actually listen to her.
At lunch, I sit with Lily at our usual table in the corner. She's my only real friend, mostly because she's as weird as I am. She likes to draw horses with wings and she knows all the words to musicals that nobody our age has heard of.
"Did you finish the math homework?" she asks, pulling apart her peanut butter sandwich.
"Yeah. Did you get to level fifteen yet?”
She knows I'm talking about Kingdom Builders. We both play, though she's not as good at it as I am. I've built this amazing castle with towers and a dragon habitat, and I'm almost to level twenty.
"Not yet. I keep dying in the fire realm." She takes a bite of her sandwich. "Are you still talking to that guy?”
My stomach does a little flip. “Yes."
"Isn't he older?”
"Just a bit.”
I don't want to talk about this anymore, so I pull out my tablet and pretend to read something really important. The truth is, he's probably a lot older, but he doesn't talk to me like I'm just a kid. He asks about my day and remembers things I tell him. He says I'm mature for my age, which is something no adult in my real life has ever noticed.
The rest of lunch passes quietly. Lily sketches another winged horse in her notebook while I finish my sandwich and think about the message I got this morning. He'd asked if I wanted to see something cool after school, something that would help me understand the advanced levels of Kingdom Builders better. I'd said maybe, which felt daring and safe at the same time.
Third period is social studies, and Mrs. Henderson's quiz is exactly as hard as I thought it would be. I know Sacramento is the capital of California and that the Mississippi River flows south into the Gulf of Mexico. I'm pretty sure I know the capital of Vermont, though I second-guess myself and change my answer twice before settling on Montpelier.
After I finish, I have ten minutes left, so I let my mind wander. I think about the book I'm reading and how the main character gets invited to the magical academy through a series of tests that prove she's special. In real life, nobody ever notices that you're special unless you do something dramatic like save a cat from a tree or win the science fair.
I've never saved a cat or won anything, but maybe I don't need to. Maybe being good at Kingdom Builders counts for something, even if it's not the kind of thing that gets announced over the school intercom.
The afternoon classes drag by like they always do. Art class is the only good one because Mrs. Riley lets us work on whatever we want as long as we're using the materials she gives us. I'm working on a drawing of a castle that looks like the one I built in Kingdom Builders. It has tall towers with pointed roofs and little windows where archers might stand guard.
"That's really good, Sarah," Lily says, looking over from her own project. She's painting a sunset that has way too much purple in it, but I don't tell her that.
"Thanks. It's from my game.”
"The one with that guy?”
I wish she would stop bringing him up. It makes me feel weird, like I'm doing something wrong when I'm really not. We just talk about the game and sometimes about other stuff. Books we've read, movies we like. He told me about this new fantasy series that's supposed to be even better than the one I'm reading now.
The bell rings, which means it's time to walk to Grandma's house. Lily and I say goodbye at the main entrance, where parents are lined up in cars and buses are loading kids for the ride home. It's chaos, like always, and I'm glad I get to walk.
The October air is crisp but not cold, and the trees are just starting to turn colors. I take my usual route, down School Street, right on Maple, then straight until I hit Elm where Grandma lives. But as I'm walking, my tablet buzzes in my backpack.
I probably shouldn't check it right here on the sidewalk, but curiosity wins. I duck behind the hedge that runs along the edge of the park, where nobody can see me from the street.
One new message.
Hey! Ready for that surprise I told you about?
My heart does a little skip. I type back quickly.
What kind of surprise?
His response comes almost immediately.
Something cool. Something just for you because you're my favorite player. Can you meet me really quick? Just for like five minutes.
I stare at the screen. Meet him? In person? My stomach twists. It’s half excitement and half something else, nervousness?
I don't know... I type, then delete it. Then type it again.
It's okay, he writes back. I get it if you're scared. Most kids your age would be. But you're not like most kids, right? You're mature. Brave.
I am brave. Aren't I? And it's just five minutes. And nobody has ever called me their favorite anything before.
Okay, I type. Just for a few minutes. Where?
He mentions the flower shower on Commerce Street and then adds, that’s my girl. See you soon, Princess.
I put the tablet back in my backpack, my hands shaking a little. This is probably a mistake. I should go straight to Grandma's like I'm supposed to. But my feet are already carrying me toward the location he mentioned.
The alley behind the shop is narrow and shaded, with a dumpster and some cardboard boxes stacked against the brick wall. There's a silver SUV parked near the back, engine running.
"Sarah?" a voice calls from beside the vehicle. "I'm so glad you came.”
For just a moment, something feels wrong. But then he smiles, and I remember why I wanted to meet him in the first place.
