“I’m helping you, remember?” And I wanted to know who was conducting the bully orchestra, if not Anavi’s former pal. Both in the hallway and in class the group had been in such sync, no one had stood out as mouthpiece or mastermind. “Who do you think is the leader?”
“That’s another unlikely thing. You would assume there would be one commander. But it feels like they all are the leader, or none of them is.” Her glasses had slipped down her nose, and she pushed them back into place. “I haven’t been back in Worlds in days. But it doesn’t seem to matter. In there, I can hold my own. It’s just bad play. But out here . . . When they’re near me and they want to . . . the only way I can describe it is that they disrupt my mind. Like they’re in my head, wearing jackboots and stomping around. Or not that, not precisely. It’s closer to a feeling of very fine control, like I’m a computer and they’re writing a piece of code that makes me perform however they want. An invading army, executing a coup in my mind.”
That was new. “So, they have to be close by for you to feel this way?”
“I think so. It only happens when they’re physically proximate. This morning in class, I knew the correct answers. They were at the forefront of my mind, but I couldn’t transcribe them. What I wrote was wrong, and I knew it was.” She lowered her voice. “But I could not stop. You know Occam’s razor? It’s a scientific principle that says the simplest explanation is usually the correct one. By that logic, the simplest explanation for this particular situation would be that I am absolutely losing my sanity. It defies any other explanation. Why else would I be telling you this?”
“Because I’m helping you.” Maybe I would regret not sending her straight to the counselor’s office. But my instincts said not to. “Give me a few days.”
“I should’ve known better than to bother reporting them to Principal Butler. He has always been kind to me, but his adoration for the Warheads this year is unparalleled. He allows them afternoons free. They get to leave campus.”
I clicked my pen again, noted that detail, and added a question mark.
Then I remembered the other question I had for Anavi. “Does the word ‘Hydra’ mean anything to you?”
“A mythological monster. The root’s Greek. There’s one in the game.” She shrugged. “Mid-level boss. Not that hard to defeat. You know what’s almost comical?”
“Nothing about any of this,” I said.
“I think in language roots, still, after all those years studying them. I notice them, the components of words. I don’t think I will ever stop. That term I mentioned the other day, the one I found that was closest to what’s happening . . . psychological coercion?”
I scribbled it into my notes too. “I didn’t remember it before, but I do now. What’s it mean?”
“The root, psyche, is Greek. It means breath, life, soul. Roots often have a certain poetry about them. Psychological coercion, it’s an elaborate way of saying that they’re stealing my soul. My breath. My life. That’s what my mind is to me.”
I couldn’t let that happen. “I can’t believe I’m asking you this, but would you be willing to go into the game again? Tonight? I’ll arrange to be there, too. I need to witness what they’re doing there so I can make the case that they’re targeting you. Don’t worry. I won’t talk about the inside-your-head stuff. Only what others can see.”
Suddenly, Anavi’s head ducked and she examined the boring plastic pattern of fake wood grain on the tabletop. I turned, expecting to see the Warheads lurking behind me.
But it was Maddy, standing at my shoulder. Her T-shirt today was another band that I hadn’t heard of: Danger Dames.
“Join us,” I said. “We’re almost done. Do you two know each other? Maddy, this is Anavi.”
“Hippopotamus,” Maddy said, sliding out the chair and scooting into it. She tilted her head at Anavi. “Come on, I can never remember how many P’s. Or U’s.”
I protested, “She’s not a trick pony—”
But Anavi rattled off the perfectly spelled—so I assumed—word. Maddy grinned. Anavi smiled back, the first time I’d seen any lightness in her.
I had to make sure that her breath, life, and soul stayed intact.
“So, tonight? Ten o’clock in the game?” I asked. “We’re on?”
“What article?” Anavi asked instead of agreeing, her forehead creasing in concern. “You mentioned something about an article.”
“Maddy and I work for the Daily Scoop. We’re going to do a piece about bullying, in game and out, using you as a case study.”
“But I don’t want anyone else to know it’s me.”
I understood. “I promised I’d help, right? Trust me. I’ll figure out a way to not use your name.”
“All right,” Anavi said. “I will be present at ten, but I make no commitment for how long I will remain if they’re in attendance.”
“You probably know the exact location of the Warheads at this very second, don’t you?” I asked.
“Always. How else can I avoid them effectively?”