Page 9 of From Drummer to Gamer

I was the sixth-best player inFantasy Legendsfor a reason.

My head snapped into action as a strategy formulated. I was going to win this no matter what. “Ken cover Kiki, Tin lose the tank and watch my six, Freddy you too. I’m going straight to the tower.”

With Ken and Kiki fending off the enemies, I leaped over, blasting my dagger at full speed at the minions guarding the fort, and ran straight toward the jungle instead.

I had exactly two minutes to dodge the enemies before they figured out my plan to capture the tower.

The enemies were busy taking down the boss, thinking they had the game, but it was mine.

It was always going to be mine.

“Sierra.” My heart almost jumped out of my chest when my door burst open, and I almost missed a step.

One minute and thirty seconds.

“Sierra.” My stupid brother hovered behind my chair, shouting in my ear. “Did you hear me?”

“I’m in the middle of something,” I bit out.

With the enemies distracted by the boss, I wiped out an opening and went all in.

One minute.

“Come on! Can you fucking hear me? Sierra. Sierrraaa. Sierrrraaa,” Raphael screeched in my ears like a pest. I wanted to smack the living crap out of him, but I focused all my effort on the game.

I shot a beam blast at the enemy in rapid succession while I tried to take minimal damage.

“The boss is in low health. Go all in, boys,” I muttered.

Thirty seconds.

With the enemies surrounded, the team attacked them from all ends, and I skirted around them, heading to the boss. Pulling out my dagger, I landed a critical attack with my last special move that swiped the boss with a single blow.

“SIERRA!”

The enemy base collapsed, bursting into specks of light.

Victory!

My team rejoiced in the chat, but I didn’t have the time to comprehend an answer because my annoying excuse of a brother was pulling on my arm. “SIERRA. Come on, I need to tell you something. You won’t believe what happened today.”

Gritting my teeth, I flung my headphones away and jumped to my feet. “This better be so fucking good, Raphy. Or else I am going to wring your neck and feed it to the crabs.”

A cocky grin curved his lips. “There are no crabs in Iona, sweet sister.” He bounced on top of my bed, folding his arms behind his head.

“Well?” I tapped my foot, running on my last nerve.

“Good things come to those who wait,” he insisted with a smirk. He fished around the inside of his jacket and retrieved what seemed to be a plain white card and waved it proudly in the air.

“What is that?”

“Why don’t you take a look for yourself?”

I narrowed my eyes, taking a skeptical step toward him. I dashed out my arm and grabbed the card from him.

“Careful,” he hissed.

I ignored him and studied the card. My heart thundered in my rib cage when my eyes landed on the name—MATT EVANS—which stood stark against the thick cardstock. “What is this?” I whispered.