Chapter 25: Down One

Between games we got ten minutes.

The five of us went behind the black curtain at the back of the stage, where the casters couldn't see.

Nobody said anything at first.

The grad student was peeling a clementine with shaking hands.

The freshman had both headphones off, which was worse than him being quiet.

"Rule two," I said to Beck. "Say it."

He didn't soften it.

"You're calling for Carver," he said. "Every call. You're watching where he is and answering him."

"He's the one killing us."

"He's the one who wants you watching him," Beck said. "He chased you for a year. Now you're chasing him back."

That landed somewhere under my ribs.

He was right.

I'd spent the whole game looking at one name on the map.

The senior leaned in.

"Who's the weak link?" he said. "Not who's loud. Who's weak."

I looked at the grad student's whiteboard, which he'd carried onstage under his arm.

Under Sutton's name it still read:

KEYBOARD.

"In game one Sutton didn't do anything," I said. "She didn't have to. Carver did it all."

"So make her do something," the senior said.

"Everybody goes to her," I said. "Every fight. We ignore Carver. We let him get kills. Every time she's alone on her mage, we make her decide."

The grad student stopped peeling.

"That's insane," he said. "I love it."

The freshman put his headphones back on.

"Yes," he said.

Game two started.

For six minutes we didn't touch Carver.

He farmed his lane and typed "scared?" in all chat.

The back row read it out loud.

At six minutes and thirty seconds, Sutton walked her mage to the side of the river to put down a ward.

"Now," I said.

Beck came out of the brush.

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