Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Along with another pressing need.
Right this second isn’t the time, and I turn the conversation back to a more realistic line of questioning.
“Speaking of talking to moms…,” I drone with the air of someone about to sound like an adult.
“Weren’t you supposed to be at school today?” I chide Joey, knowing it’ll be on me if he gets caught playing hooky too.
I’ll have both our moms tearing me a new one, and I don’t want to jeopardize my connection to Zak through Joey by not being able to sit him anymore.
Joey’s mouth creases, and he looks down, letting go of me. “I suppose you’ll tell,” he murmurs, already sounding defeated.
Knowing me well enough, too, because usually, I think I would.
But this is different.
This is Zak freaking Templeton.
“Only if you let me handle this Zak Templeton business and in my own way. Okay?” I bargain with him.
Joey eagerly agrees, smiling as wide as his eyes are open as his head stabs a series of jerking nods.
“Of course,” he quips, “I’m only ten. What would I know?” he grins.
“I can’t believe it, though, Zak Templeton.” He sighs with renewed amazement.
“How’d you get an invite to the Beta testing anyway?” I ask, as curious as I am envious.
But Joey only shrugs as he logs into another gaming site, admitting he’s not exactly sure himself, which I get.
With all the gaming he does, which is way more than me even, it’s easy enough for one game, platform, or even a whole month to blur into the next.
I know too that Joey’s always entering competitions and signing up for anything and everything online.
And boy, am I glad he does.
“Maybe I could put my fingers to better use,” I hum to myself, quietly musing as I feel a smile playing on my lips.
“Huh?” Joey echoes back, making me giggle.
“I mean, you’re right. I am a computer scientist. I majored in game programming,” I remind myself, feeling every bit dumber for not telling that to Zak straight up.
But I was having trouble forming intelligible words when he looked at me with his big brown eyes.
Lord knows how I did it either.
The degree, I mean.
It felt as though I was gaming half the time I was awake and learning code the rest of the time until whenever I just wanted to zone out and play, I couldn’t.
I had so much gaming code swimming in my brain it was like reading a book of programming codes more than being able to lose myself in the actual game.
Joey makes another sound of impatient excitement and is capable of playing and talking at the same time; he asks me what I’m waiting for.
“Sounds like you’ve got a resumé to send,” he says knowingly.
But even though I know he’s right, we still have a bigger problem right now.
“And how were you planning on explaining why you aren’t in school today?” I clip, noting his body slump in his chair as he groans.
“I was kind of hoping you could help me with that…,” he murmurs.
I breathe in deep, and holding my fingertips to my temples as I wrack my brain to come up with an excuse, my ten-year-old friend has another suggestion.
“You could just call the school. Tell them I’m sick or something,” he muses.
Again with that child’s logic. Making everything simple in such a complicated, grown-up world.
I don’t answer him straight away. I’m still thinking about my Zak problem as well as Joey’s truancy.
Both could come back to bite me if I don’t do something, but lying has never been my strong point.
“If your mom found out,” I caution him and myself, “we’d both be in a world of pain.”
Joey stops playing his game and looks up at me again.
“You’re a scientist, Jade. I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” he says confidently before resuming his gameplay with a shrug.
Puffing air from my cheeks, I figure there’s nothing else I can do if I’m going to focus on contacting Zak again soon.
Making my way into the kitchen, I lift the school’s contact details from the magnet on the fridge. And with a trembling hand, I make the call.
I’m on hold for about ten minutes here and there until I’m put through to Joey’s teacher herself.
Mrs. Peters.
I explain I’m his sitter and that Joey’s home for today.
I make a point of not lying about it, not bothering to make up a story.
I just tell her he’s not in school and he’s safe at home.
“Oh! Well, thanks for letting us know,” is about as much as she offers in reply before asking if there’s anything else before hanging up.
Weird. It’s like everything today is just falling into place.
“Well?” Joey asks, looking a little pale with worry by the time I head back into his computer room.
I could make him sweat over it, but that’s not going to help anybody.