I felt a brand new rush of anxiety and anticipation wash through me as we walked to that door on our way into the stadium. No, wash through me wasn't the right term. That would imply that it passed quickly. Instead, the feeling took residence in my stomach. It became a small but truly impressive tornado of what-ifs twisting and turning through my guts. I felt sick, and part of me wanted to turn around and run back the way I had come. That part of me just wanted to go hide.

  Yet there was a stronger, better part of me that wanted to show everyone what I could do. Yes, I was nervous. Who wouldn't be? That was normal. After all, I was going out there in front of an enormous crowd, like the first time. But now it would be a real competition. Yesterday, I had been able to just do whatever came to mind. It was a silly exhibition, and I could simply show off. This time it was for actual points. I had rules to follow and opponents to deal with. I might go out there and fall flat on my face. I might embarrass myself in front of those people in the arena, and millions watching online or on television. I might lose horribly and make a total fool of myself.

  And you know what? So what if I did? Would it really be the end of the world if I lost this game? Would it actually change anything in my life if I wasn't the best out here immediately? If I came in last place in this little game, would that actually make my life worse somehow? Would it make me a bad Star-Touched? Of course not. It wouldn't really mean anything. Yeah, it would be a little embarrassing to lose. But I could just get over it. Coming in last place wouldn't be the worst thing in my life by any means. I could absolutely live with that, unlike losing to Pencil or Pittman.

  With those thoughts in mind, I took a breath as we began walking through the tunnel leading out onto the field. On the way, my phone buzzed, and I reflexively unsnapped the pocket of my suit to tug it out and glance at the thing. My first thought was that it would be Paige, unable to stop herself from giving me a few lines of last second advice after all. I was already smirking at the thought. Of course the other girl couldn’t resist telling me what she thought I should do out there. That was just who she was.

  Except it wasn’t from Paige. She still hadn’t messaged me, which itself sent a weird pang through my stomach that had nothing to do with my nervousness about this whole thing. Still, I shook that off. She just didn’t want to bother me, she wanted me to focus on the event. She had faith in me, that was all. Instead, the message was from Ryder, and I quickly set aside my uncertainty about Paige to focus on that. He’d sent me two pictures. The first showed what was obviously his couch at home, where he had a truly impressive array of various snacks and drinks all laid out across it. The caption at the bottom read, ‘It’s time to sit back, relax, and…’

  I flicked to the second picture, which showed a selfie of him, but most of his face was hidden behind the heavy book he was clearly reading, leaving only his eyes exposed. The book was labeled, ‘A True Sporting Idiot’s Guide To Understanding The LEAT Games.’ This picture had the caption, ‘... try to figure out what the hell is going on in this thing. Good luck to both of us!’

  It worked. I laughed, a smile breaking out over my face as I stared down at my phone for a moment to take that in. I felt the tornado of nerves fade away, and found myself straightening up a little. Sure, it wouldn't be the end of the world if I was embarrassed out there and lost horribly. This wasn't life and death like a real fight. It was just a game, and the world would keep on spinning no matter how I did.

  But to hell with that. End of the world or not, I wasn't about to lose. Fuck no. I was going to show these people what I could do. I was going to show all of them just what I was really capable of, and if any of them thought I couldn’t… err… wait, did that sound like supervillain monologuing right there? Because I really didn't need--

  “Um, Paintball?” That was Tumbleweed, looking back at me from a few steps ahead. She, Split, and Liqueguy had all stopped there and were staring my way. Her voice was a bit uncertain as she hesitantly asked, “You okay back there? They kind of like everyone to come out together, so it’s clear that, you know, nobody’s better than anyone else, or being left behind or whatever.”

  “If you need a minute,” Liqueguy put in quickly, “that’s cool. Take a few breaths, shake out all the nerves. Maybe do a couple jumping jacks, that works for me sometimes. It’s cool, don’t worry about it. Everyone gets freaked out by this stuff. It might not literally be Fells trying to kill you, but it’s still a lot to deal with. All those loud people out there can just chill for a second, they’ll live.”

  Finally, Split made his hand appear next to me, giving my shoulder a gentle, reassuring pat while smiling easily. “Yes, what they said. We may be your opponents in this competition, but that is only for fun. Well, and glory. But fun and glory is far from life and death. We do not take it so far. If you need a moment or two to collect your thoughts and calm yourself, take it. We will wait for you.”

  Shoving my phone away, I started to insist that I was fine. Then I hesitated. My stomach was still twisting around a bit. So, I took their advice and breathed in and out a couple times. I even did a couple jumping jacks, just for the hell of it. And yeah, it even helped a bit. Even though I could hear the crowd out there, just beyond the tunnel, getting louder with anticipation as they all waited for us to actually enter, the jumping jacks and breathing calmed me down just a little.

  Then it was time. No more stalling, no more waiting, no more breathi--well okay I was still going to breathe, but I’d be doing other things too. Shaking all that off, I told the others I was okay, and started to walk again. We all continued that way, stepping out of the tunnel and out onto that bright green turf.

  The moment the four of us came into view, I thought an explosion had gone off. Seriously, it made me jump. Or sort of jump, but Tumbleweed and Split each had a hand on my shoulders. They had both anticipated my reaction and calmly kept me from leaping out of my skin, while making it look like they were just casually resting their hands there as we walked. The two of them saved me from looking like a skittish little kid.

  And honestly, I really should have known what was going on, since I’d actually been part of it on the other side in those earlier games I was a spectator for. Because it wasn’t an explosion, obviously. It was the crowd. As soon as we appeared, they roared, the deafening sound of their cheer and approval echoing through the arena. They were on their feet, hands raised, cheering so loudly it almost seemed to shake the stadium around us. Yes, I had been on the other side of that. I had cheered along with them. But being here, on this side of it? That was totally different.

  It was a good thing the other three knew what they were doing, because I probably would’ve just stood there like an idiot and listened to that cheering until it finally simply dwindled into confused and annoyed mutters if I was by myself. Instead, they kept walking and I simply followed along with them. I looked around as we went, finding myself staring at thousands of people up in those stands, so many of whom were staring right back at me. Sure, there had been all those people the day before too, when I was out here by myself. But again, that just wasn’t the same.

  Following their lead, I walked with the others all the way over to those arches with our hologram pictures over them. After seeing Split and Tumbleweed stop in front of their own, I had the right idea and stopped by mine. Liqueguy moved to his, and all of us turned to stand with our backs to our archways. There we were, facing the majority of the arena. I saw all those spinning, twisting obstacles, platforms, the maze down on the ground, all of it. The whole thing definitely looked much more impressive from up close like this. Everything was so much bigger this way.

  “What’re you thinking?” Liqueguy asked, his voice barely reaching me over the sound of the crowd. He and the others had already raised their hands to wave, prompting me to do the same.

  “Right now?” I replied while giving a cheerful, jaunty wave to the crowd, who were getting even louder by the second. “Mostly about how much I wish we had all these platforms back home. Running around Detroit is great and all, but can you imagine how awesome it’d be if they had these things mixed in with the normal buildings and billboards and stuff? Now that’d be sweet.

  On the other side of me, Tumbleweed glanced my way with a tiny snicker. “I would say civilians might object to all the spinning, rotating, gliding obstacles floating around the city, but if it meant they’d get to see people like you and me bouncing around on them all the time, they might just accept it.”

  “They would be angry more than happy,” Split put in. His voice came from the head that was floating right in front of us, while the rest of his body remained over in front of his archway, waving to the crowd. They seemed even more excited by the display of his power. “The traffic alone, just from all the people who would be--what is the right word? Puttynecking to watch.”

  “Rubbernecking,” I corrected with a wince. “But yeah, you’re right, traffic would be absurd. And I don’t--” Oops, I almost said something about not wanting to ruin traffic just before I was about to get my license. That would’ve been a mistake, given Paintball was supposed to be a twelve or thirteen year old kid. Yes, the fact that I could be mistaken for being a little boy like that might still be a bit embarrassing, but it was a big part of my disguise. I couldn’t risk throwing it away.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Fortunately, I was saved from having to come up with a way to end that sentence, by the loud voice of that black woman in the suit, Nqobile. She was standing on one of those platforms, clearly using a microphone hidden in her ear or on her clothes to send her voice through the arena speakers. “Thank you all for giving such a warm welcome to our next set of players!”

  I kind of tuned out for a moment, aside from continuing to wave while she introduced us and explained how the game was going to work. The stadium was cast in darkness so they could use spotlights to illuminate each of us one at a time, and then the various obstacles, the arches behind us, and the holographic rings. She explained it all with much more dramatic language than she had when she was telling us what we’d be doing, really playing up the excitement for the crowd. She was good at that, really getting the people out there amped and ready for this. At least, I assumed she was, given the reaction. But I wasn’t really paying that much attention.

  Instead, I focused on assembling new spots of paint over myself. I already had a fair bit on the costume, since I’d been working on it off and on ever since we started watching the video back there. Well, okay, I always had at least some paint under my costume or clothes, enough to protect myself in an emergency or escape if I had to. But once I knew what the actual event was supposed to be, I really started making sure I had as much of myself covered in spots of color as possible. I was trying to give myself options. Yeah, I could just fill in blank spots with specific paints as needed, but still. Every bit of paint I already had on my body was more that I wouldn’t need to drain from my supply in the heat of the moment. I needed every little edge I could get.

  “Whoa, that’s cool.” Tumbleweed was looking at me, though she made it seem like she was looking out toward the crowd in that direction, waving to them. “The colors really do just pop up all over you, huh? I heard you can make, like, whole pictures just by touching things. That true?”

  “Sure, why, you want me to put a picture on you?” I glanced that way, taking in her Sentai-like purple costume with the gold and black wavy lines. “I might have to make the whole costume white first to have a good background to work with, then I could give you a lot of red and yellow.”

  The woman laughed easily at that. “Nice try, buddy. Red’s the paint you use to pull things and yellow slows them down, right? Yeah, I did my homework on you last night after we heard you’d be part of this. Watched all the videos I could find to keep track of what the colors do. How about if we wait until after this contest is over, then I’ll see what fun things you can do to my costume?”

  A strange feeling passed through me then. Was I getting sick? No, it wasn’t a bad feeling, not exactly anyway. I wasn’t sure what it meant. It was like… I was a little warm, and kind of tingly. Butterflies in my stomach? Well yeah, I was anxious about what was about to happen. Seriously, I was about two seconds away from actually being part of these LEAT games. Like, an active part. Not just running through an exhibition to show off for the audience, but one of the real games. I was about to compete against several other Touched in an actual match. So no wonder I was feeling butterflies in my stomach, heat in my face, and some sort of tingling in my hands.

  Um, except it wasn’t that. At least, I was pretty sure it wasn’t that. So what was I feeling then?

  I didn’t have time to examine that at all, before a loud bell rang through the arena. Nqobile’s voice followed, just as loudly. “Contestants, on your marks!” Oh yeah, now the anticipation of the crowd was absolutely palpable. They had all gone mostly silent as prompted by the large jumbotron, watching eagerly from up there.

  Following the lead from the others, and from other games I’d watched, I took a knee. Starting from your mark, in this case, meant going down on one knee, while the other foot was flat against the ground so you could put both hands on that other knee with your fingers interlocked. Split even summoned his head back and reattached it to his neck the right way, facing forward.

  That was the position everyone started this sort of thing from. It was tradition. One knee down, other foot flat, hands clasped on that knee. All four of us stayed like that, facing the arena. My heart had decided to start trying to hit my ribs hard enough to break free so it could go hide.

  The arena was still dark, the only light sources coming from the soft glow of our individual archways keeping the four of us in view, and from a giant blue holographic number five that had appeared right in the middle of everything. As it did, the audience roared the number right along with Nquobile, the sound rocking the arena. That was followed by a four, then a three. This was it. No more waiting, no interruptions. The whole arena and so, so freaking many more back home and across the entire country were all watching. I felt cameras on me. I could feel the eyes staring at my dimly lit form.

  None of us moved until the word ‘zero’ was echoing through the arena. Our fingers remained interlocked, our hands firmly pressed against our raised knees, our gazes remaining locked on the area right in front of us. That was another tradition, you didn’t look at the opponents while the countdown was happening. You stared straight ahead, at the area you’d be competing in.

  And yet, the very second the last number rang through the arena and shook the stands, that was over. In the exact instant the last syllable of ‘zero’ was bellowed by the crowd, it was on.

  Split’s hand was right there, trying to grab the back of my costume to yank me to the ground. At the same time, a column of Liqueguy’s liquid stuff appeared and tried to slam into me from the front. Both of them were hitting the new guy immediately, trying to delay my start even as they themselves were already running to the platforms. Well, Split was running. Liqueguy had made a wave of his stuff appear under his feet and used it to essentially surf up and forward quickly.

  Both of them had simply sent their attacks at me and kept going, leaving me to be taken by surprise. Or at least, they thought I would be taken by surprise, but really, I was expecting nothing less. Sure, they’d been nice and friendly through all the pregame stuff, but this was a real competition, they weren’t just going to leave me alone and let me run through this utterly unhindered. And to be honest, I would’ve been deeply insulted if they did. They hit me first because they saw me as a threat, they saw me as a threat they needed to deal with right off.

  This was so freaking awesome!

  Oh right, the disembodied hand trying to grab my costume, and the wave of liquid stuff doing its best to slam into my chest to knock me over. Both missed. Mostly because the instant the word ‘zero’ was bellowed, I had already shifted fully into my liquid form. My pink liquid form. When the hand and wave were both trying to hit me, I had already dropped into a puddle on the ground.

  Even as Split’s hand was knocked out of the way by that wave that was meant for me, I sent my puddle-self forward. The others were all ahead of me, of course. Split was the furthest ahead, since he was able to simply teleport his other arm up to the nearest platform, then immediately teleport the rest of his body over to it. That allowed him to take a quick step through a blue ring. Five points for him, just two seconds into this whole match. Well, five on his person, not banked.

  Meanwhile, Liqueguy and Tumbleweed were about even. The former was able to ride atop his wave pretty quickly, while the latter simply jumped forward, made herself weightless, then magnified the force of her jumps to leap further and faster each time. It sort of looked like someone run-bouncing on the moon, only sped up.

  But I wasn’t about to be left behind for long. Before the two guys could recover from the fact that I’d evaded their attempted ambush, I popped back up out of my puddle-self and extended my hand to shoot a quick spray of rainbow paint as far as it could reach, up at the side of a huge, ten-foot wide cube-shaped platform that was barely in reach. The rainbow paint struck the side, and I sent myself that way, reappearing right there before starting to fall back toward the ground. But before I could drop very far, I was already shifting into my solid form and pivoting around to hit the upper edge of the cube with a shot of red paint. That let me yank myself up and over the cube, passing through a pair of red rings up there for a combined two points. Instead of landing on the cube, I let myself pass right over it, landing on a long, angled ramp just beyond. Right before coming down on the thing, I hit it with a spray of blue-red paint to make it slippery, then landed with my knees bent to slide down. It looped around to the left, and I leaned my body that way to stay on, passing through two more red rings and a blue one along the way. Nine points.

  I couldn’t get too complacent though, considering the column of fluid that came flying up out of nowhere. I barely had time to trigger the blue panda images I’d left on the bottom of my shoes to launch myself up, tucking into a ball and twisting sideways. It was just barely enough to evade Liqueguy’s attack, as I felt his wave go passing right by me. As it did so, an idea flashed into my mind. He was able to ride on top of his waves in liquid form, so--

  Yup. Shifting into my own paint form allowed me to land on top of that wave. My feet sort of merged just a little bit with the passing liquid, but I was able to keep myself mostly intact, riding down the wave with a loud whoop. Before Liqueguy could adjust to what I was doing, I reached the end of his wave, sailing out into open air before turning myself solid so I could red-paint myself out of his way.

  Which, of course, was the moment that Tumbleweed came up out of nowhere, rebounded off a nearby floating cylinder, and slammed into me hard enough to knock me flat onto my back on the bottom of that ramp. As soon as I was down, the holographic number nine on me disappeared, those points lost.

  “Sorry,” she chirped, giving my shoulder a pat before launching herself off me to keep going. “You’re doing great!”

  Before she could get very far, I rolled over on my side and hit her with a shot of red that way, catching her in the back and pulling her toward the red puddle that was right at my feet. As she was yanked backwards, I leapt up and over her, kicking both feet out to hit her in the shoulders. Feet that had blue paint on them, so I rocketed up and away from the woman even as she was sent crashing to the same spot she had knocked me into.

  “Thanks, you too!” I called back while the holographic number fourteen on her chest disappeared, her own points vanishing into the ether. A seven appeared on me.

  I could hear her scrambling back to her feet, making a noise of mixed anger and appreciation. She wasn’t happy about losing her points, but she wasn’t taking it personally either. After all, she’d hit me first. This was a game. One that all of us were determined to win.

  And now, it was well and truly on.

  Joke Tags: Actually Cassidy? At This Point Paige Is Busy Finding Out That Her Sister Has Inherited The Recycled Powers Of One Of The Most Evil Fell-Touched In The World