Singleplayer [DreamNotFound]

Hacking Into Character Files

'Come on, check it out with me,' Clay pesters me as we walk down the hallway after our last class.

It's been three days since I've started attending classes here, and Clay is already trying to get me to join a club with him. The literature club, to be exact.

'I told you, I'm not that interested in literature!' I tell him for what seems like the hundredth time today.

'Dude. It'll be fun, I promise. Come on.'

'How can you promise that when you've never even attended a single club meeting? No, Clay.'

'Pleeease?' Clay gives me his best puppy face. I sigh.

'I said no.'

'Just one meeting, then! Then you can decide if you like it or not!' Clay says.

'Ughhh,' I groan, 'Fine. Fine.'

Clay's eyes light up. 'Really?'

'What, you want me to take that back?'

Clay quickly shakes his head. 'No. Of course not.'

'But if you want me to come you'll have to bring my books for me for the next week.'

Clay scoffs. 'I'm not doing that.'

I shrug. 'Well then, I'm not coming.'

Clay quickly comes up with something for his defence. 'I'll do it if you don't like the club meeting.'

Since I'm already sure I won't like the meeting, I agree. 'Deal.'

He does a little air punch and hisses a little celebratory 'yes'.

'I feel bad, making you carry my books for me.' I say, quickly dumping my books in his arms. He accepts them, not knowing how to react, then immediately shoves them back at me. They fall to the floor.

'I said if you don't like the club meeting.' He says, watching me sigh in annoyance and bend down to pick up my books.

'Well, I'm sure I won't like the club meeting.' I say, trying to smooth out a crease in one of my textbooks. 'Clay, you asshole.'

'What?' he raises his hands. 'You didn't catch them, that wasn't my fault!'

'Whatever.' I give him a shove. 'Come on, we're probably going to be late if we don't reach the meeting soon.

We go back to the dorms to dump our books and set off towards what we think is the right direction to the clubroom. Clay soon remembers which way we took and leads me down to the place.

'Bet you three pounds I won't like the meeting,' I whisper to Clay as we pause in front of the clubroom door.

'Bet you three pounds you'll like the meeting,' Clay whispers back, then adds, 'Why are we whispering?'

'I don't know,' I continue to whisper. 'Just open the door already.'

Clay gives the door a push and we step into the room. My eyes instantly go to the club members. I do a quick head count. Nine people, all girls except for three boys, including the person standing at the head of the class who I take to be the club president. Not a very big club.

She looks around at us. 'Who are you two?'

'We've come to murder you all,' Clay says, then quickly adds, 'Just kidding. We wanted to check out the club.'

'That's great.' The club president says. 'Come on in, then.'

We step inside and sit down at one of the desks. All the desks in the class have been arranged in a semicircle in the middle of the class, making it look like there's going to be some sort of activity. The desks are different than they are in other classrooms, more like a wide chair joined to a desk with enough room for two people. Two small people. I sit at the edge of the desk to avoid accidentally brushing Clay's leg, then think to myself, who cares? It's not as if Clay's a girl. So I scoot closer and make myself comfortable. I give a start when I see Jean among the eight other people sitting next to us, who's been trying to catch my eye for a while now. She gives me a wave and shakes her head, mouthing the words 'Are you blind or something?'

I roll my eyes at her and turn back to look at the club president.

'Since it looks like we have two new members, I want you all to introduce yourselves and also describe yourself in one word you think fits you the most. I'll start with myself. I'm Alyssa, 20. I call myself a perfectionist.' She says in a bossy tone.

Clay interjects. 'What is this, an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting?'

Alyssa gives him a death stare, then turns to someone on our right. 'Maria, go next.'

The girl who she called Maria immediately speaks up. 'I'm Maria, 18. I'm creative.'

Everyone else introduces themselves in a similar way. When it's Jean's turn, she says, 'I'm Jean, 18. I guess I'm easy-going.' Clay describes himself as 'ambitious.' I call myself 'strong-willed'.

Alyssa claps twice in quick succession. 'Okay, people. Any questions you have about anybody else?' she asks, looking over to us.

Clay raises his hand briefly, then says, 'Are you going to hack into our character files and delete us from this world?'

Alyssa rolls her eyes. 'Ha, ha. Never heard that one before.' She says sarcastically.

'Anyway, I came up with something for us to do today. Instead of discussing books like we did these past two days, we're going to be discussing the best style to write a short story or book on. Then, using your favourite style, you're going to be writing a story on any topic you like.'

The next ten minutes pass with everyone debating which style is best – simple present first person, simple past first person, poetic or straightforward and so on. Afterwards, we're instructed to take out our notebooks and write a simple story.

I speak up. 'Um, I didn't bring a notebook. Neither did Clay.'

'Supplies are in the closet at the back,' Alyssa points to something behind us. 'Get cranking.'

I sidle out of the bench and walk over to the closet to grab a few sheets of paper and two pens. I hand some paper and a pen to Clay and stare down at my own. No ideas come to my mind. Eventually, I end up ripping off the plot of some popular book and quickly scribble down a page or two.

When everyone is done, Alyssa says, 'Keep the story with you carefully, because you're going to be rewriting that story at the end of this year and discussing what you've improved in. Your assignment for today is to write a poem on your favourite book.' She says this with an air that indicates that the meeting is over.

We all get up and go to move out of the classroom. Clay turns on me as soon as we're out of the class.

'Well?'

'Well what?' I ask, even though I know what he's talking about.

'Did you like the meeting or not?' Clay says.

I shrug. 'I guess. I'll have to see tomorrow's meeting to be sure.'

'That means I win. Three pounds, please.' He says, holding his hand out to me.

'Hey, I didn't exactly say I liked it,' I say, shoving him. 'You're still carrying my books, though.'

'Not fair!' he says, shoving me back.

'Whatever. Wanna go grab a snack?'

He glares at me, then relents. 'Fine.'