That Friday, on the eve of the tournament, I got off school and went straight to Michael’s room while our parents were at work.

“Hey man, how are you feeling today? Any improvement?”

“Yeah, I feel a little better. Better than this morning, for sure. Got a lot of quality rest in.” Michael cleared his throat, but his voice was raspy. “Let’s play a few rounds, shall we?”

I chuckled, slid my backpack onto the ground, and hopped in his gaming chair. Pulling out our controllers, I pressed the power button at the base of the red Arakan sphere, and we played a handful of matches.

“Damn, even when you’re sick, I still can’t catch a break. I’m getting my ass kicked over here!” I yelled.

Underneath Michael’s mound of blankets, he let out a zombified chuckle. The first real sign of life he’d shown. My outburst was intentional; I knew it would make him laugh. Anytime I got angry, he found it amusing.

“You’ll never beat me, no matter what,” he said.

I laughed. “Just wait, when I’m 18, I’ll beat your ass up and down in this game. I’ll get better. Just remember, one day, the pupil becomes the master.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Yeah, that day ain’t happening soon, pal.”

I analyzed his pallid face. “You think you’re going to be in the tournament tomorrow?”

Michael furrowed his brow. “Yeah, dude, c’mon. Have some faith in your bro. I’m not as bad as last year, ’member? I couldn’t have a coherent conversation. I’ll heal up.”

“All right, if you say so.”

We started another match and heard the living room door squeak open.

“Gordie?” Mom hollered.

“Quick, dude, try and go to your room!” Michael whispered.

But it was too late. Our mom rushed up the steps and threw the door open. “Gordie, I told you not to hang out with your brother! You can’t afford to get sick and miss school. Not only that, I paid $200 so each of you can play in this stupid tournament this weekend, and I don’t want you to have to miss it too.”

“Sorry, Ma. But have you noticed that I don’t get sick that often? I have a strong immune sys—”

“Don’t talk back to me, Gordie. We’re not risking it. Now, your brother needs rest, so let’s leave him alone.” My mom beckoned for me.

I slumped off the chair and trudged to my room.

I sat at my desk for the rest of the night and did my homework, which was probably a good thing since I wouldn’t be stressed over the weekend. I kept putting my head down on the desk, my forehead pressed firmly against my arm. Burying myself in darkness.

Knock, knock, knock.

It sounded like my mom at the door. My dad gave more of a tap, and Michael usually barged in.

“C’mon in,” I muttered.

The door creaked open. “Gordie? I’m sorry for yelling earlier, but it’s just been a stressful week. Both at home and at work and I just sorta snapped. It wasn’t right what I did, and there’s no excuse, but I’m just so worried about you and your brother.”

“It’s all right, I understand. Sorry for going into Michael’s room.” I couldn’t bring myself to look at my mom. My neck felt heavy.

“Don’t worry about it. So, I was doing some thinking. After dinner, would you want to stay at Aunt Edith’s house for the night?”

The suggestion surprised me for a second, but it made sense. “I’m guessing you don’t want me to risk getting sick, right? Since I don’t have any friends and never go to sleepovers, you’ve asked Aunt Edith to host me for the night?”

My mom’s jaw dropped. “Gordie, don’t be so down on yourself like that. That’s not how I meant it. Besides, Aunt Edith lives closer to the venue than we do, and the only game system in the house is in Michael’s room. You can go over her place since she has the Arakan system with the Elite Crushers game.”

“Can I just stay the night here, please? I want Michael and I to go together. Even if I can’t practice playing the game tonight, those few extra hours aren’t going to put me over the edge for the competition tomorrow.”

“Of course, you can stay here. I wanted to offer that to you in case you wanted to lower the chance of getting sick.” She paused and observed me as if she was a doctor. “Let me know if you might want to do something tonight, like watch a movie or whatever.”

“Play a game of Elite Crushers with me.”

“Really? Would that help you for tomorrow, you think?”

“Mom, I was kidding. You’ve never played a video game in your life. I’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll probably just watch YouTube videos in the computer room when I finish my homework.”

My mom nodded. “And for your information, I used to play video games in arcades with your father. That was one of our first dates, you know?”

“Yeah, but those games don’t really hold a candle to today’s games.”

My mom rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s a little rude. I’m gonna go downstairs. Let me know if you need anything.” My mom closed the door.

I prayed for one of the rare times in my life, hoping to whatever greater entity existed to help cure my brother overnight.

The following morning the house was filled with the heavenly aroma of blueberry pancakes, bacon, and eggs. I bolted into Michael’s room like an FBI raid and found him sleeping like a rock.

“Mike! Wake up! We have to get a move on!”

It took him a moment of squirming in his blanket pile to gain full consciousness. “Damn, are we running late or something?”

“No, I just woke up, but Dad is making a breakfast feast for us. Also, I want you to get moving so we can see how you feel.” I waited for him to sit up. Some color had returned to his face. “Well? What’s the verdict?”

“Chill, man, I just woke up. I don’t really know. I think I’m better than yesterday. We’ll see how I feel when I get moving.”

“Gun to your head, can you play Elite Crushers?”

“Geeze, if you have a gun to my head, I guess I have no choice.” He got out of bed, took a few steps around the room, and looked me square in the eyes. “Take the gun out of the equation. Put me in coach. I think I’m ready.”

My adrenaline spiked, and I leaped up and down with joy. I pulled in him for a vice grip of a hug.

After eating our breakfast, Lawrence picked us up in his car and took us to downtown Chicago at the convention center. I felt so cool to be hanging out with two other 18-year-olds. Here I was, a freshman hanging out with two seniors. I felt like the coolest kid in my grade... even though I didn’t really have friends.

We waited in line to grab our lanyard tags when we got inside. I named myself GordieHoward since that was my first and middle name. My dad called me after his favorite hockey player after my mom got to name our brother. Michael’s name tag was Mike&Mike, and Lawrence’s was jellyd0nut.

I couldn’t believe there were also lines for people to get signatures from the top eight world players. There’s no way I’d spend $10 just to get an autograph, but people were into it enough to form lines. Maybe that would be Michael someday.