You in Five Acts(36)

“What do you recommend?”

“Well, depends what skills you want to have. A titan’s like a big tank—you can take a lot of hits and Hulk out on people. A hunter’s faster and better at shooting, and then a warlock just sort of f*cks shit up with spells, and can drain life force and stuff like that.”

As he spoke, Ethan selected the blue-skinned alien warlock character for himself. He wore a long black coat and had some sort of magnetic energy ball in his hand.

“I guess I’ll be . . . a hunter,” I said.

“Human or machine?” Ethan asked, reaching over to correct my button-pushing.

“Uh . . . human?”

“That’s the most fallible,” he said. “Just so you know.”

“I’m prepared to die quickly,” I laughed.

“That’s good, Roth, because you are going down,” Ethan said, hunching over his controller.

Within the first fifteen minutes, he’d sucked my life force three times, but I was weirdly more relaxed than I’d been in months. I think it was the fact that my mind was completely blank. No family, no school, no play, no future, and I didn’t even have to worry about whether I was impressing anyone. I was just running around some dystopian planet trying not to kill myself by accident, which was a pretty satisfyingly low mental bar. I almost forgot why I’d been afraid it would be awkward in Ethan’s house, until he reminded me.

“You’ve had, like, a lot of girlfriends, right?” he asked during a pause in play while my health bar was regenerating after a robot punched me.

“A few, I guess.” I acted like I didn’t know the actual number, which was seven. Eight if you counted Zoe Mueller, who I “went out with” for a week in fourth grade but never even spoke to.

“Would it be incredibly lame if I asked your advice on something?” His tone told me he already knew the answer to that question, but I shrugged, bracing myself.

“OK, so, Liv and I hooked up like six weeks ago,” Ethan said. “But since then it’s like . . . whenever we’re alone . . .”

I held my breath.

“. . . she doesn’t really touch me,” he finished. I could feel him looking at me but I didn’t want to see his face. It was harder to feel good about things that way.

“At all?” I asked, hitting a button to select my next weapon.

“I mean, she’ll sometimes hold my hand,” he sighed. “But if I try to kiss her, she always says it’s not a good time. Because we’re at school. But she never wants to go anywhere that’s not school. I haven’t even been to her house since the party.”

“Huh. Weird.” I was elated and leapt off a boulder onscreen in secret celebration.

“So is that normal?” Ethan deftly leapt out from behind a rock and dropped a bomb on me.

No, I thought. “I guess it depends,” I said. . . .

. . . “Yeah.” Ethan got quiet for a minute, and then out of the corner of my eye I saw him drain the rest of his beer and set the bottle down. “I know . . . she’ll never like me the way I like her,” he finally said.

“You don’t know that,” I said.

Ethan paused the game and went over to the bookcase on the right of the TV. He moved some video games out of the way on the bottom shelf, opened a hidden mini fridge, and took out two more beers. I kept avoiding eye contact.

“I just wish I knew why she started it,” he said, handing one to me. “I never thought she’d make a move. I figured I’d always like her, and she’d never look at me, and that it would hurt but it would be enough.”

I took a slug of my beer. It tasted bitter in my throat, like stomach acid.

“But this is worse,” Ethan said. “I can’t tell if she’s even my girlfriend, really. And I don’t want to ask her because if she says no . . .” He shook his head, grimacing. “I should get a titanium exoskeleton.”

“I should find a bathroom,” I said, standing up.

“Around the corner.” Ethan nodded in its general direction; his hands were busy resetting the game. “We can switch characters, and maybe that’ll keep you alive longer.”

“I don’t need your pity,” I said, forcing a laugh. My hand was already in my pocket, on my phone, pushing the power button.

“Speaking of which,” Ethan said, “This is so pathetic, but . . . if you get the chance, will you try to find out for me?”

“Find out what?” I asked, my heart racing as I felt a series of buzzes against my leg.

Ethan didn’t turn around. “What she’s doing with me, I guess.”

As soon as I got into the bathroom, I locked the door and stood at the sink, reading through your texts, each one making me feel more and more like a dick:

hey, where’d u go?

don’t have too much fun w/o me

can u just tell me if he has a bunk bed, or a sex doll?

I’d been as guilty of mocking Ethan as anyone, but suddenly I didn’t feel like doing it anymore. Just spending a few hours with the guy had made me feel lot sorrier for him than I ever thought I could.

What were you doing with him? It was a fair question. He was in love with you, that much was painfully obvious, so either you were too nice to let him down, or you were screwing with his head. Maybe both. You struck me as someone who liked to play games and keep secrets. I liked that about you. I never stopped to wonder why.