Suddenly, I’m thrust back into the game. The roar of the audience abruptly returns, followed by the announcer’s shocked voice and the jumble of my teammates’ voices all ringing in my ears. I look frantically down, expecting to see myself still encased in black armor that resembles Zero’s—but it’s gone, as if it were all a hallucination. My white game suit is intact again.

“Emi? Ems!” Asher shouts. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Forget her—” comes Hammie’s voice, frantic. “She’s out. I’m going for the Artifact now!”

I realize I am floating, frozen, trapped inside a set of ruins with only a small eyehole through which I can see the rest of the game unfolding. Asher is trying in vain to fend off three Cloud Knights. He’s going to lose his Artifact. I try to ram myself through my underwater cage, but I can’t—and then I realize it’s because I have no more oxygen left. My reserves are red. That’s what Hammie had meant. I’m dead, struck out of the round until I can regenerate. What had happened?

“I don’t believe it!” the announcer is shouting now. “After their incredible first win, the Phoenix Riders may be disqualified early this year if they don’t do something soon—”

Hammie appears at the last second, flickering into view like a phantom in the water. She lunges for the Cloud Knights’ Artifact before they can register her presence, right at the same time as the Knights lunge for Asher’s. Both teams seize the other’s Artifact at almost the exact same time. The crowd screams.

A few seconds pass before the final score appears in our views.

“The Phoenix Riders manage to hang on to victory by a millisecond!” the announcer shouts.

As the world vanishes around me and the real world—the arena and the screaming crowds—comes back into view, I see Asher roll out of his station in a furious mood. His face is twisted in anger. He’s glaring at me. So are my other teammates. I look up at the enormous holograms in the stadium that are replaying segments of the game, only to see myself, ignoring the others and sabotaging their moves. Boos are mixed in with the cheers in the crowd. Some are shouting for a replay, that we hadn’t won this round at all.

“What the hell happened?” Asher demands as he approaches me. “That was the most embarrassing, shameful display I’ve ever seen from a pro player. You tried to throw that game on purpose.”

What can I say? Zero’s figure is still hovering in my mind, ominous and silent. “I’m sorry,” I start to say, “I—”

Asher turns his head in disgust. “We’ll talk back at the dorms.” From the corner of my eye, I see Roshan shake his head at me in confusion, while Hammie looks away in disappointment. We had won, but it didn’t look like it at all. My gaze goes to Ren, who’s watching me. The edge of his lips tilts ever so slightly. My jaw tightens. He knows.

Suddenly, the holograms in the arena change. The crowd goes still for a moment. I go still. My teammates all pause in unison.

Then, everyone bursts into gasps and shouts. As they do, I can only find enough strength to stare in stunned silence at the grainy screenshot that is now publicly broadcast to everyone in the arena, and probably to everyone watching this game. Everyone in the world. I don’t know who had taken it, or how. But somehow, I know Zero is involved. This is the beginning of his attack on me.

The holograms display a giant photo of me stepping out of Hideo’s home at night, of him leaning in to kiss me, of his hand still holding on to mine. It’s unmistakable.

The news is out.

25

PHOENIX RIDER SNAGS HEARTTHROB BILLIONAIRE!

HIDEO TANAKA PLAYS HIS WILD CARD

WILD CARD GETS BILLIONAIRE BOYFRIEND

EXCLUSIVE: 1ST LEAKED PHOTOS OF HIDEO AND EMIKA

When we arrive at the dorms, I go straight to my room without saying a word to anyone. I’m too afraid to look at my phone. I’ve already turned off my messages. Even so, it was impossible not to catch a glimpse of the headlines screaming by on marquees near the Tokyo Dome, broadcasting the news to the public. Now I curl up on my bed, my heart pounding from the onslaught. From how grainy the shot looked, it must have been taken with some insanely high-powered camera lens, from some remote hill.

After a few moments, I hesitantly turn on my messages and enable ones from Hideo. A message from him pops up immediately.

Stay inside. I’m sending extra security to the team quarters.

I’m about to respond when a knock sounds at my door. Hammie’s voice drifts through to me.

“Are you staying in there forever?” she demands. “Or are you going to offer us any kind of explanation?”

I hang back for a while on my bed, my head down, gathering my strength. Then I sigh and stand up. “I’m coming,” I reply as I walk to the door. When I open it, I find myself staring into Hammie’s narrowed eyes. She brings up a tabloid cover to hover between us. This one has published the grainy photo of Hideo and me, along with the headline: LOVE OR CHEATING?

“Downstairs,” she says, waving her fingers once and erasing the cover from view. She turns away toward the stairs before I can respond. I hesitate, then follow her.

Down in the atrium, Roshan is activating blackout shields on the floor-to-ceiling windows in an attempt to keep journalists out—but I can still hear the photographers clicking madly away, the flashes of their cameras reflecting off the glass. Before the windows go completely dark, I catch a glimpse of the main courtyard leading out to the security gate. A mob of paparazzi have crowded there, some of them pushing past the security. Two guards chase down a reporter and cameraman sprinting toward our dorms. It’s a feeding frenzy.

Roshan temporarily looks away from the outside crowds to focus on me. His usually gentle expression has been replaced with one of suspicion. Asher regards me with a scowl. I sit down on the couches with Hammie, trying to avoid Ren’s stare—but even then, I can feel his smugness directed at me.

“When were you going to tell us?” Roshan finally begins.

“I . . .” I shake my head. “It’s complicated.”

“Is it?” Hammie replies, glancing in disdain at the darkened windows. “All those times you didn’t want to hang out with the rest of us, was it because you were off seeing Hideo Tanaka? We’re supposed to be a team, Emi. But obviously you didn’t think we could handle your fancy relationship.”

I scowl at her. “What’s going on between Hideo and me has nothing to do with how I feel about you and the team.”

Asher shoots me a hard look. “It has everything to do with us. We just got into the final championship round, but now people think we won unfairly—they think Hideo’s favoritism for you made the judges hand the win over to the Phoenix Riders.”

“No, it was clear that we won,” Roshan interjects. He’s watching me, telling me silently to defend myself. “And it must be hard to talk about such a high-profile relationship. Right? We’re listening, Em, but you have to give us something.”

If only you knew the half of it. “How was I supposed to bring everything up? This was something in my personal life. I didn’t think I had to bring it into our team practices.”

“Except you did,” Hammie says. “You were always ready to skip out on time with us or leave early from training. And what was that pitiful display today?”

Asher nods at Hammie’s words as he continues looking at me. “You ignored everything I said. You told me you knew better. I gave you the benefit of the doubt because I had faith in you, because you’ve proven yourself before, but—” He pauses in frustration. “I am your captain. I chose you as the number one draft pick. I’ve worked hard to build a team of this caliber. Even if we go on to win the championships this year, who’s going to believe that we earned it? I can already see the headlines. Phoenix Riders cheat their way to the top.”

“Oh, come on,” I reply, my voice rising now in frustration. “It’s just a game. I—”

“It’s just a game?” Hammie interrupts. Everyone around me tenses, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing. It is precisely the thing I have always hated hearing from others. I start to correct myself, but she leans forward and glares at me. “Then why are you even here? Why are you even competing in Warcross if it’s so beneath you? Weren’t you living in New York’s gutters before you came here?”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then you should get out of the habit of saying things you don’t mean. I’m damn good at Warcross. Being good at Warcross allowed me to buy my ma her own house, send my sis to a good university.” She pauses to stretch her hands out at the dorm. “That’s why everyone loves Warcross, isn’t it? Why we’re all obsessed with the NeuroLink—why you use it? Because it makes things possible?”

“It’s not what I meant,” I repeat. “There’s too much that you don’t understand. When there’s a lot more at stake than a championship, then, yes—it is just a game.”