Taking the leap, p.1
Taking the Leap, page 1
Taking the Leap
A Signature Sweethearts Novel
Kelsie Rae
Taking the Leap
Cover Art by Cover My Wagon Dragon Art
Editing by My Brother’s Editor
Proofreading by Stephanie Taylor
Published by Twisty Pines Publishing, LLC
May 2020 Edition
Published in the United States of America
Copyright © 2021 by Kelsie Farmer
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To Merida from Brave.
You do you, Boo.
Gamer Acronym Dictionary
AFK: Away from keyboard
NVM: Nevermind
LMAO: Laughing my ass off
ROFL: Rolling on floor laughing
BRB: Be right back
GTG: Got to go
TTYL: Talk to you later
NP: No problem
Lag: Internet connection is slow
TY: Thank you
Noob: New or inexperienced player
Rig: Gaming PC
Gateway Guardians Dictionary
Flash Bomb: Takes away Operator’s sight for 30 seconds. Flash Bombs are hidden throughout the board and must be found in order to use them.
Doppelganger: Allows two players to look like each other for 30 seconds. This is an ultimate ability and may only be used once per game.
Health Pack: Allows player to rejuvenate their health. Many are hidden throughout the arena and must be found by players in order to use them.
Filler: An ultimate ability specific to the Team Lead. A Filler allows the player to recover a fallen teammate’s location instantly. May only be used once in a game.
Near Kill: When a player is injured critically, the wounded player begins to drain his/her teammate’s stamina until the player is killed or given a Health Pack by a team member.
Stamina: A player’s stamina is necessary to heal, shoot weapons with accuracy, perform any unique skills, and implement any special devices found throughout the arena. Without it, they’re unable to attack opponents or defend themselves.
Switch: Two players exchange positions instantaneously. Teammates must coordinate this maneuver by pressing specific buttons on their keyboard at the same time. A Switch can only be performed twice in a game.
Camouflaging: An ultimate ability specific to the Sneak. Camouflaging allows the player to be invisible to the opposing team for 30 seconds. Requires full stamina to implement. Camouflaging can only be used twice in a game.
Transport Device: Allows a player to transport to any location in the Arena. Transport Devices are hidden throughout the game board.
Cloaking Device: Allows a player to become invisible to the Operator on the opposing team for 30 seconds. Several Cloaking Devices are hidden throughout the arena.
Prologue
Quincy
A little while ago
“I’m so sorry about your grandfather, Quincy.”
“Father,” I correct him with a blank stare.
Face reddening, Dr. Wilson––the specialist––fumbles with the neckline of his soft blue button-up shirt. “Oh, I apologize––”
“It’s fine. Happens all the time,” I mutter, blinking slowly before dropping my gaze to my lap. The hem of my black T-shirt is starting to fray, but it doesn’t stop me from rubbing it between my fingers over and over again.
This can’t be happening. I can’t do this. No one should have to do this.
As I force myself to squeeze my eyes shut and refrain from fidgeting, the chaos from the appointment catches up to me. “So––just to clarify––you’re telling me that my dad’s brain is in a maze, and it’s going to get harder and harder for him to find his way out, until one day, he doesn’t. Is that correct?”
“Yes. I’m afraid that’s correct.”
“That’s what I thought you said,” I whisper, my gaze unfocused and my breathing shallow.
I feel like I’m in a game. Like I’ve been backed into a corner, and if I could just…shoot a hole through the wall or restart the level, or…something, then it would all turn out okay. I’d be able to save my dad. My sanity. Everything.
This isn’t a game, though. This is real life.
I’ve never been very good at real life.
And it sucks so hard that I just want to run away. I want to disappear. I want to pretend this entire ordeal doesn’t exist. But if I did…who would take care of him?
Sniffling, I try to focus on a game plan even though it feels like torture. “How much time do I have?”
“Unfortunately, there’s no way of knowing how quickly dementia can affect the patient. Everyone is different.”
“But with how quickly everything else has progressed…?” I press, my voice cracking.
With his eyes full of pity, the doctor answers, “Yes. With how quickly everything else has progressed, we can only assume this will follow suit. Now, the cost––”
“I’ll figure it out.”
He sighs before taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “How old are you, Quincy?”
Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I chew on my lower lip and sit up a little straighter in hopes that I’ll look older than I am. “W-why do you ask?”
“Because you look young. Far too young to carry so much on your shoulders. How exactly do you expect to pay for his medical expenses?”
Medical expenses.
Freaking. Medical. Expenses.
Insurance will only cover so much. I learned all about that before my mom died. The rest will be left up to me.
Digging my nails into the palms of my hands, the truth hits me right in the chest.
I’m gonna have to get a job. I’m gonna have to drop out of school. I’m gonna have to figure out how to pay the bills, take care of a guy who doesn’t even know who I am, and make sure my entire world doesn’t fall apart.
There’s just one problem.
It already has.
It’s slipping through my fingers like sand, but I can’t turn back time. I can’t make it all go away. I can’t bring my dad back to me. Hell, I can’t do anything at all but face the truth head-on like my dad taught me.
If only I didn’t have to do it alone.
“Quincy?” Dr. Wilson murmurs.
I shrug and fight off the urge to break down and cry. “I’ll figure something out.”
“May I suggest a living facility?”
“Not happening, Dr. Wilson,” I bite out before rolling back my shoulders and giving him a pointed stare. “I know you’re a specialist, and that our family doctor referred us to you, so we don’t know each other very well quite yet. But it’s been just me and my dad since my mom died. I’m not about to rip away the only consistency he has out of selfishness.”
“That’s too much pressure on a young girl’s shoulders,” he argues.
“You want to talk about pressure, Dr. Wilson? How about the fact that my dad looked me in the eye this morning and didn’t recognize me.” I blink back a fresh wave of tears, refusing to let them fall as I stand up from my chair and embrace the determination that licks at my soul. “The financial burden is the least of my worries.”
“And what about your life?”
“What about it?” I challenge with my arms crossed over my chest.
“You’re too young to have to carry this burden, especially all by yourself.”
“He’s not the only one in a maze, Dr. Wilson. But I can’t exactly just turn around and ignore the fact that my dad is sick, and I’m the only one he has to rely on. So, thank you for your concern, but I think I can take it from here.”
1
Jude
“Shite,” I curse, attempting to balance my iPhone and a paper plate. The plate is currently holding a just-baked frozen pizza still piping-hot from the oven. Using my forefinger, I grab the fridge handle and swing open the door, grabbing a bevvy before slamming it closed.
I set my plate on the kitchen island and pull out a barstool before plopping down on the wooden seat. My focus is solely on my mobile screen as I watch an online game of Gateway Guardians that’s streaming through a platform called Flinch. Flinch allows you to shadow other players while they compete in the game.
It’s been about a year since Derrick and I expanded our business, and we’re raking in the cash. Yes, you heard that correctly. We. Derrick made me a partner shortly after a few large investors threw money at our budgeting company. Their investment allowed us to offer services to the majority of banks in the States, bringing us in a pretty penny. We’ve been voted one of the most lucrative new corporations this year by Forbes, and it’s been quite the adventure.
Recently, Derrick decided we should up our marketing game, and I suggested we sponsor a team for the Gateway Guardians Competition. It might sound nerdy, but you’d be amazed at how many people watch these competitions. You can fill an entire arena with spectators. They may even be as popular as a royal wedding.
Gateway Guardians is an online game where teams of five play against each other. The goal is to steal a highly-guarded gemstone, thus ending the game. Essentially, it’s Capture the Flag on steroids, and it requires a great deal of patience, technique, and finesse. I’ve been playing it for years, and I was even on the British team a few years ago, before retiring
Now, I only play recreationally. Juvenile? Probably. But it’s addictive as hell.
Currently, I’m watching my favorite player stream through Flinch. While the main screen is a shot of the game they’re currently playing, there’s a tiny square in the bottom right that allows you to see the player, too. In most instances, I wouldn’t care less about what the gamer looks like. But with this beauty, I find myself mesmerized by her expressive face more so than by the game.
The girl capturing my attention is none other than the up-and-coming gamer, Quincy Phillips, or Quik_Q182. She’s relatively new to the circuit and has recently begun taking the gaming world by storm. She has fiery red hair that flows down her back and has me wanting to teasingly tug on it like a lad in school. It’s often pulled into a ponytail, or hidden beneath a black beanie, the curls fanning around her slender shoulders. I’m fairly sure she’s never worn an ounce of makeup in her entire life, but it doesn’t stop her jade eyes from shining like the brightest jewels in a quarry. And have I mentioned her alabaster skin? It turns a lovely shade of pink any time she’s flustered or excited. Don’t even get me started on the freckles scattered along her cheekbones that pop in to say hello any time she’s flushed. Those bad boys could bring a grown man to his knees.
It’s never been a problem to fantasize about her, because she’s practically a celebrity in the gaming world. Everyone has their celebrity crush. Don’t deny it. We all have that one actor or singer that if we ever met them in person, we’d piss ourselves before passing out from sheer shock.
Quincy just so happens to be mine.
I stumbled upon her a few months ago while browsing Flinch, and I’ve been lusting after her ever since.
Until I found out Derrick’s plan to sponsor her team for the championships. Now, I just feel guilty for drooling over her.
As I take a bite of pizza, my eyes remain glued to my phone. I hiss in pain as the molten lava sauce burns the crap out of my tongue and the roof of my mouth.
“Bollocks!” I curse.
Dropping the offending slice onto my plate, I reach for my drink while my eyes remain focused on the screen. I watch intently, as the fiery-haired babe finishes off her last opponent with a complicated kill shot only an advanced player could replicate. Especially when her avatar is known for stealth and not for slaying opponents.
“Yes!” she squeals triumphantly, pumping her fists in the air before remembering she has loads of spectators watching her “happy dance.” Her piercing gaze turns to the camera, and I can’t help but feel as if she’s looking at me personally, instead of the thousands of subscribers witnessing her latest victory. “Thanks for watching guys! I’ll see you next time.” She smiles shyly, her cheeks the color of cherries. That one innocent look causes my heart to race almost instantly, and I’m reminded, yet again, of how much she affects me. As soon as she finishes talking, the screen goes black, letting me know that she’s signed off.
Feeling disappointed that my source of entertainment is over for the evening, I grab my pizza and head to the black leather couch in the center of my family room.
I live a few blocks from work in a renovated warehouse that consists of several tiny flats. The interior walls are covered with rough, red brick, the cream mortar seeping out slightly between the rectangular cubes. The floors are a sealed grey concrete that I’ve covered with thick cream rugs to add warmth. My appliances are stainless steel, and all of my furniture is black or cream in color. There’s a simple hallway past the kitchen that leads to a single bathroom and bedroom. My home is small but perfect for my needs. And the location is great.
I sink into the leather cushions before grabbing the remote and turning on ESPN. Gingerly, I take another bite of pizza. Thankfully, it’s cooled enough that it doesn’t burn the roof of my mouth all over again.
While I’m watching TV, my phone rings on the ebony coffee table. Derrick’s name flashes as I slide my thumb across the screen to answer.
“Hello, wanker.” I grin, leaning back in my seat and placing my mobile between my shoulder and ear.
I take another bite as Derrick replies, “Hello to you, too, buddy.”
Smirking at his term of endearment, I wait for him to continue.
“I just wanted to let you know that I got ahold of AFK’s manager. They’re having their first team meeting this week, and I want you to go and represent us.”
“Pardon?”
“I said,” he drags out the words slowly, like he’s speaking to an idiot, “that Bree already booked your flight about ten minutes ago. We’re sending you to be our representative. Their manager, Jett, almost had a coronary when he heard you were coming. You’re still a freaking legend, man.”
I roll my eyes before he even has a chance to finish. Yes, I was good. I’m not going to deny that. But I hardly consider myself a legend. I just happened to quit right after winning the world championship, while I was still on top. The majority of gamers always seem to throw in the towel after they’ve already lost their touch. I was sick of all the politics that came with the gaming community and unwittingly timed my resignation perfectly.
The gaming community has such a quick turnover that I’m surprised Jett even recognized my name.
“Well, isn’t that just lovely,” I reply tartly.
“Come on, Jude. It’ll be cool to have some fans again. Soak it up. It’s not like your ego isn’t big enough already,” he jokes. “Jett even mentioned you coming on as an assistant coach for Finals.”
He drops the unofficial job offer like it’s not a big deal, but I’m quite taken aback. Being an assistant coach for the World Championship of Gateway Guardians is quite an honor. I’d have a chance to relive the glory days without signing up for anything long-term. But that also means I’d have to be one-on-one with Quincy Phillips for more than a day or two, and I’m not sure if that’s a brilliant idea.
I remain silent, letting the idea marinate.
“And what about my current position?” I question, thinking I’ve found a loophole.
“Dude, this would be great exposure for the company. Sponsoring the team was a good idea, but having the owner of our corporation assist with coaching would be insane!”
“Did you just call me ‘dude’?” I ask, trying to hold back my laughter.
Derrick simply groans. “Did I seriously call you that? Jude, I think Bree’s starting to rub off on me.” The mere mention of his fiance’s name causes his voice to get all light and airy. The bloke has it bad, and I can’t blame him.
Bree and Derrick are perfect for each other. I knew it from the moment I saw those two together. Personally, I’m more of a casual dater. But if I were to settle down, I imagine it would be with someone like her. I might give him shite for using terms he never would’ve said before she came around, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Derrick wouldn’t be half the man he is today without that girl.
Switching the phone to my other ear, I shrug off his response and joke in my best American accent, “It’s alright, dude.”
“Anyway,” Derrick drags out the word while attempting to change the subject. “You leave in two days. So pack your bags and let me know when you need your flight home. We’ve got things covered here. If we need anything, we know how to reach you. We can talk more tomorrow. I’ll let you go.”
“Alright. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Clicking the “end” icon on my phone, I place it back on the coffee table. Anxiety gets the best of me, so I take another swig of beer. Turning up the volume on the TV, I try to block out thoughts of the pretty redhead I’ll be meeting in two days. And the way my heart races anytime she crosses my mind.
2
Quincy
“Dammit,” I mumble under my breath, noting the time on my phone. I don’t usually swear. Or at least, I try not to. Every time I do, my dad’s stern voice inevitably follows in my head saying, “We don’t curse, baby girl.” I roll my eyes at the mental discipline I just received from my childhood memories before remembering why I cursed in the first place.
