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MAVERICK

Sometimes when shit got really hairy, Maverick went somewhere else inside his head. As if there was a little room inside his brain that he could climb into and work the big Maverick puppet from a control center. No matter how scared or sad or afraid he became, or how badly he was hurt, that part of himself, the one that could still feel, made himself very small and hid away, pulling all the right levers and strings so that the Mav puppet could face the world with a smile. Never, ever let them see you cry . That’s what his mother had taught him. When the camera went off, that was the time for tears if necessary. And even then, his mother had little patience. Walk it off , she’d tell him, no matter what had happened. Pain is inconvenience, nothing more. It’s a construct of your mind.

Was it, though?

At the end, his mother drifted on a morphine cloud, a living ghost of herself, barely conscious, eyes staring past him into a place only she could see. His whole body shook sometimes when he allowed himself to think about her final days. He al most never allowed himself to, only when he was really hurting, like now. That’s when he missed her the most.

She’d pushed him to be his best self, too hard sometimes. But no one else on the planet had ever loved him so much. He was someone special beneath her gaze, which was also the camera’s gaze. He was a star through her lens.

That tackle to the ground, those two men on top of him, crushing his chest. The breath leaving him. One of the men had a deep scar under his eye, his expression blank as if violence was routine for him, like he didn’t even care. The other kneeled on Maverick’s bad arm, kneecap digging into tendons. He had been pinned, powerless, hot rage turning to a chilling panic. How were they so strong? He was screaming at them, but he felt that part of himself retreat to the control room. And then he just went still, defeated, staring at the bigger man who stared back, blank.

Now he was on his feet again, the men roaring off on their ATVs, the hum disappearing into the trees.

Everyone was looking at him. They needed him to be strong, to keep going. That’s what his mom had needed, for him to keep going and going, no matter who or how much he hurt. In the control room, he punched all the right buttons. Dust off. Shake it off. Smile. Big smile. Never let them see that the crazy old bitch and her goons scared the shit out of you. That they got the best of you in that moment.

He turned to Malinka and Adele and did his thing. But he wasn’t there. They weren’t there. They were just NPCs in the game of his mind, part of his universe but only just, only for right now.

Then Angeline turned on the live stream, and he felt himself settle a little. The dread receded and he was on, back in his body. Talking to the thousands of people who wanted to experience the next Extreme challenge from the peace and comfort of their homes. He kept his eyes off the comments. Or tried to.

KittyX25: Where is Chloe? We know you know.

Engine49: Closure for the Miranda family! Time to face the music, Extreme. Where is she?

ChloesDad: Where is she, Maverick?

MavIsALiar: Ready or not. Here I come.

But they just floated by him. The Maverick at the controls entered Ignore the haters .

“So that’s everyone,” he told the live stream. “Or almost. Grrl Power Malinka, Super Mom Adele, the OG Adventurer Wild Cody. There’s one more surprise hider. He’s someone most of you know and love, Red World master gamer, and WeWatch celebrity. Stayed tuned for the big announcement right before we begin the game.”

Angeline held up a single finger.

He knew that this meant: spon con package number one. This package cost the sponsor fifty thousand dollars for an embedded product mention, in this case Extreme Quench, named after Mav’s company. It also included a visible product placement, like one of them drinking from a can in way that seemed unplanned, one reel, and two posts over the course of the challenge.

Gustavo tossed him a can, and he caught it with one hand, held it up for Angeline. She was smiling now. She was happy again, back in the zone with him. That was childishly important to him.

He took a long deep swallow and tried not to gag.

“Wow! I just love this stuff. Have you guys tried Extreme Quench?”

Another swallow, thinking, Damn, this stuff tastes like ass. The first time he tried it, he literally thought he was going to vomit. He was on the toilet for an hour after the Bonkers Banana flavor.

“I mean, you know when you hit that four-o’clock slump, and you’re just like, man, I don’t have the juice for the gym, or a couple more hours of productivity, or my side hustle. Whatever it is?”

Off camera, Angeline was nodding. Gustavo was sticking his finger down his throat and pretending to spew. Mav tried not to laugh.

“Just one of these—look how small it is!—and wow, I’m not kidding, it is rocket fuel . Whatever you need to do, you can do it with energy to spare. And even better—no sugar, tons of vitamins and antioxidants—and no disruption to your sleep later. Kooky Coconut, Manic Mango, Bonkers Banana, Brain Blaster Berry, and five other great flavors.”

The comments scrolled and scrolled: heart eyes and star eyes, hearts, flowers, party horns. Marriage proposals, declarations of love. He was getting fat. He was superhot. He looked tired. Some slags on Extreme Quench: rotgut , poison , gave me the runs .

MavIsALiar: Do you even listen to yourself?

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

When he looked up from the screen, he caught Wild Cody’s eyes. The older man was staring at Mav with this weird smile, as if he had a secret. As if he knew Mav’s number. Angeline was right, maybe. He should have checked with her before answering Wild Cody’s publicist, Brett, who was an old pal from the neighborhood. Brett was one of those guys you hired when your brand was in the toilet. For Wild Cody, the toilet would be a step up.

“The next time we go live it will be game time. Ready or not, Extremists, here we come!”

And then it was quiet again, and Angeline came to him, wrapped her arms around his middle. He looked down at her. She was the whole package: brains, beauty, kindness. No, he did not deserve her, and he knew this with every cell in his body. He held on to her anyway.

“Are you okay?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

He wanted to tell her no . That he wasn’t okay and hadn’t been for a while. And was there any way they could pull the plug on this? Maybe on everything? That he was tired and hurt, that shit was catching up with him in a big way. And he didn’t know if he had what it took to play the game tonight or any more games ever. And could he just have a moment to figure out who he was off-screen, with her?

“Yeah, yeah,” he said instead. “I’m good.”

“Mav.”

“For real. As long as you’re here, I can do anything.”

That was going to be the big finale, another proposal. He had it all planned for right before the last of the final two contestants were found when viewership was highest. The ring was insane , a two-karat cushion-cut pink diamond. He’d already returned two to the jeweler, each new one bigger than the last. This time, he felt certain she’d say yes .

“I’m here,” she said. He leaned in to kiss her, and everyone cheered and jeered. Except for Cody, who kept that bizarre grin plastered on his face. Gustavo watched him and Angeline with an expression Mav couldn’t read.

Just then Hector arrived with the big van, rumbling around the huge circular drive. As usual he was bringing up the rear, missing all the action.

“Are you ever going to say yes , Angeline?” teased Malinka, approaching them.

Angeline looked up at Mav. Those eyes, her full lips, the jutting cheekbones and dewy skin. The sound of her laughter. He’d never loved anyone or anything like he loved her. That’s why he was going to be a better man. From now on.

Angeline smiled. His favorite look, the one that said she saw him, all of him, and loved him anyway. Malinka snapped a picture.

“We’ll see,” said Angeline.