Page 37 of Looking for Group

Kit had pulled out of the Monday raid, which meant Morag had to go healz at the last minute, leaving Drew with the dubious pleasure of MT-ing opposite Bjorn’s alarmingly well-geared tanking alt.

They started a fresh run, still buoyed up by last week’s victory over Bloodrose, but progress was a little shaky because they were prioritising alts and people who hadn’t done the content yet.

They downed Arachnia after a couple of wipes and called it before Vilicus.

It was still fun—surprisingly fun considering how often Drew had done this by now—but Kit’s absence made a difference, and not just to Drew. Morale seemed to flag a bit more quickly, Bjorn’s irritability seemed less entertaining, and both Morag and Ialdir were less focused than usual.

Once the raid broke up, Drew bamfed back to the City of Stars. He was just checking his supplies for Wednesday when a message popped up.

Morag has invited you to join a group: y/n

Morag is now group leader.

[Group][Orcarella]: hi?

[Group][Ialdir]: Hey

[Group][Morag]: Sorry to grab you

[Group][Morag]: We were just wondering if you knew what was up with Kit

Oh crap. Drew had no idea how to handle this or even how he felt about it.

On the one hand, he sort of thought what was going on between him and Kit wasn’t these people’s business.

On the other, he couldn’t quite shake the sense that he’d been caught out doing something he shouldn’t, as if he’d ninjaed all the shards out the guild bank.

There was also a nonzero chance he was about to get / gkicked for pissing off the main healer.

[Group][Morag]: Drew?

[Group][Orcarella]: sorry but this is pretty weird

[Group][Ialdir]: Yeah, I can see that

[Group][Ialdir]: And we know it’s none of our business

[Group][Ialdir]: We’re just worried about him

[Group][Morag]: He hasn’t been online since last night

[Group][Morag]: He said he was fine when I texted but he’s basically never missed a raid

[Group][Orcarella]: ?

[Group][Orcarella]: we kind of had a fight

[Group][Orcarella]: he said he needed some space

[Group][Morag]: Whoa. Must’ve been some fight

[Group][Orcarella]: i don’t know. I’m still confused

[Group][Ialdir]: I’m guessing you don’t want relationship advice from the old dude

[Group][Ialdir]: But Kit’s pretty into you and he’s scared of messing it up so he’s probably a bit wary

[Group][Ialdir]: Might be reacting to things quite strongly

[Group][Ialdir]: I think you guys will be okay

[Group][Morag]: Also, he just tends to take things to heart

[Group][Ialdir]: That’s a bit unfair, Tiff

[Group][Ialdir]: We’re not all as tactless as you and Bjorn

[Group][Morag]: Omg, you’re comparing me to *Bjorn*

[Group][Orcarella]: okay

[Group][Orcarella]: thanks guys

[Group][Morag]: Just give it a couple of days and say sorry

[Group][Morag]: Even if you’re not sure what you’re saying sorry for

[Group][Ialdir]: Is this why I’m married and you’re single?

[Group][Orcarella]: i’ll try

[Group][Orcarella]: nn guys

Drew logged out of HoL , wondering how much time counted as “space.” Morag had told him to give it a couple of days. Did that mean from now? Or could he could backdate it to Sunday?

Then he saw the alert light was flashing on his phone and his heart jumped like an enthusiastic kobold.

He snatched it up and was in quick succession disappointed, then guilty at being disappointed, then annoyed at himself both for being disappointed and for being guilty at being disappointed.

The message was from Sanee and read: Yo—MK Tournament Round II.

Our place after labs. Who’s up in the air now, beyotch?

A second text had come in shortly afterwards: You will be after I juggle combo you .

Actually that did sound pretty fun. And like it would take his mind off Operation Give Kit His Space.

He sent back, Dude, last time we played you couldn’t even find the block button .

The next morning, he woke up to Blocking is for pussies . And spent the rest of the day wrestling with water and Not Texting Kit.

***

“No elf?” was the first inevitable question when Drew arrived at Sanee and Steff’s.

Drew thought about telling them the whole story, but he didn’t want another lecture about game addiction and the evils of leaving parties. “Not tonight.”

Sanee scowled. “You realise this means I’m going to have to redo the roster.”

“What roster? I thought we were just playing Mortal Kombat .”

“You think,” demanded Sanee, with an outrage that bordered on the genuine, “that I’d invite you to a tournament and not provide a tournament?”

Steff staggered in with a pinboard. It was covered in index cards, sorted into tiered match-ups. “It’ll be fine, Squidge. We can remove Kit’s name.”

Sanee did not look entirely mollified. “It’s the principle, and besides, it throws off the whole structure.”

“No,” said Drew, “what’ll throw off the whole structure is me pwning all of your asses.”

And, thankfully, that distracted Sanee long enough for them to actually start playing the game.

Drew had spent quite a large part of the morning rote-memorising combos, special moves, and fatalities, which meant he put in a creditable performance.

He came out third in the rankings, having bested both Sanee and Steff, narrowly losing to Andy, and having his arse comprehensively handed to him by Tinuviel.

Who turned out to be far, far too good at fighting games.

After her first couple of matches, they realised that the only way anyone else would stand a chance would be if they gave her some kind of penalty, which started out as banning her from playing Mileena, escalated quickly to requiring her to play a randomly selected character, and culminated in her having to play a character of her opponent’s choice.

Tinuviel accepted all of this with good grace, and still won virtually all of her games.

“I don’t admit this often,” said Sanee, awarding Tinuviel the grand prize of red-iced and thus ostensibly blood-themed cupcake that Steff had apparently made specially, “but I am genuinely impressed and slightly afraid.”

Tinuviel accepted her award gravely, peeled off the paper, and devoured it in two large bites.

“Thank you, Sanee. I attribute my success to my supportive family, the voice talents of Karen Strassman, my repressed violent urges, and the fact that none of you would recognise a cancel or a breaker if you fell over it.” 1

Everyone applauded.

Drew still missed Kit, but the evening had turned out to be exactly what he needed.

On the way back to his room, he estimated that “a couple of days” could, if you squinted and tilted your head right, just about be said to have passed.

So he took a deep breath and started composing a text.

It took way longer than the word count really justified.

In the end, he had: Sorry if I was a dick. I miss you. Can we talk?

***

Kit got back to him the next morning, and they agreed to meet in Kit’s favourite tearoom before the raid.

So there they were, in the very frilly tearoom, half-lost behind overloaded cake stands.

In his anxiety, Drew had already eaten three triangular cucumber sandwiches and a macaron, and was now feeling awkward and clumsy on top of nervous.

Kit, of course, looked like just the sort of boy you’d take to a tea shop—except, to Drew, he seemed a little washed out. Not quite his usual self.

“Um.” Drew picked up a piece of Victoria sponge and hastily put it down again. “I am really sorry. I was worried and confused and overreacted.”

Kit was silent for a while. Finally, he folded his hands on the tabletop and said, “I think it’s the worried that upsets me most.”

Drew had always been under the impression that worrying about someone showed you cared. “What? Why?”

“Well, I guess I’ve got used to people making me feel there’s something wrong with how I live my life. But I wasn’t expecting it from you. I thought you got me.”

“Oh my God, I do get you. We have a thing…like, a real proper thing.” Drew was starting to realise this was way more serious than he’d thought—and he still didn’t entirely know why. “I just want you to spend more time with me than you do hanging out in a video game.”

Kit blinked. His eyelashes looked a little damp. “But, Drew, we met in that video game.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay to spend all our time in it.”

“I don’t understand where this is coming from. Why are you so obsessed with how much I play HoL ? You’ve played it as much as I have.”

Drew was trying to be calm and apologetic like Morag had said, but he was really struggling with the way Kit seemed to see him.

He wasn’t that sort of player and never had been.

Yes, he’d taken the game seriously, but it had never been his default activity.

He had lots of other stuff going on in his life, and he was a bit narked Kit couldn’t recognise that.

“I really haven’t, mate. I’ve got three alts, plus the one I rolled with you. Even when I was raiding hardcore with Anni, I was there to do the content. I’ve actually spent more time in HoL since I met you than I did when I was the MT for the number one raiding guild on the server.”

“But didn’t being MT for the number one raiding guild on the server make you miserable?” Kit pushed his hair exasperatedly out of his eyes. “Do you think maybe that the reason you’ve been spending more time in the game now than when you were with Anni is that you’re, y’know, enjoying it more?”

Drew opened his mouth, intending to reply, but then realised he didn’t really have one.

He felt a little bit cheated, like Kit had put him in a position where he couldn’t disagree, because he couldn’t explain why he disagreed, and had now got him cornered by being right about something slightly different.