My nose perked up to the smell of eggs, pancakes, and bacon. The sun in the room didn’t wake me up, but the heavenly breakfast aroma brought me to life. I sat up like a kid on Christmas morning and looked over at Wyatt, who hadn’t moved. My phone had an unread message from Darren telling me to come to the kitchen.

“Wyatt!” I whispered, but he didn’t respond, nor did his body move. I gave him a slight shake.

“Whaaaaaat?” He groaned. “My head is killing me, dammit.”

“Let’s get some breakfast,” I said, standing up and walking out of the room.

I followed the scent down the hall, which led me to the kitchen on the left. Darren and his mom were cooking a feast. He took the bacon and eggs and put them on the table prepared with plates, silverware, and a myriad of juices.

“Good morning, Gordie! Oh, that has a nice ring to it! Good-morning-Gordie.” His mom giggled. “Oh, I better keep it down. I don’t want to wake Wyatt up.”

“Don’t worry about him. Be as loud as you want. He gets all the sleep he wants,” Darren said, shooting me a humorous grin.

“Yo, I’m right here,” Wyatt said, appearing in the doorway with his eyes looking extra hazy and bloodshot. “Ya boy needs some water. My head is throbbing.”

“Darren! Get your cousin some water,” his mom directed.

Wyatt smiled from ear to ear. “That’s right, cuz, get me some H-20,” he said, strolling to the kitchen table and taking a seat. Darren followed behind and dropped off a full water glass in front of Wyatt. “Thanks, Broseph.” He chugged the water like he’d been in the desert for days until it was all gone. “Bring me another, m’boy,”

“Go fuck yourself.” Darren smiled, but his mom glared.

“Darren! That’s no way to talk to your cousin and watch the language around your mother.”

“Sorry, Ma.”

Darren conceded, and he grabbed the glass and filled it back up with water.

“Thanks,” Wyatt said.

Watching the whole scene reminded me of Michael and me growing up. It felt sentimental; they were joking around like brothers.

Darren’s mom came to the kitchen table holding a plate full of pancakes. She dropped it off in the center of the table and yelled, “Dig in!”

We began our feast, and everything tasted phenomenal. The bacon had just the right amount of crisp. The eggs were scrambled to a perfect consistency. The pancakes with the pure maple syrup polished off the meal as sweet as any would want it.

“So, Aunt Layla, tell me what you think of this idea. We were all doing pretty hot in the tournament last weekend. But due to some avoidable mistakes, we lost much earlier than we should have. I honestly think that Darren, Gordie, and I can win some big bucks if we go to the tournament in New York. Whattya say to Darren skipping work and having a chance to win $25k in NYC?” Wyatt asked.

Darren’s mom was lost. She looked at Darren for help. “What the hell is he talking about? For a chance to win $25,000? Something about that seems very sketchy to me.”

“Ha, it’s really not,” Wyatt said.

“Well, mom, I told Wyatt that I can’t afford to take a trip to New York City at a chance of winning the Elite Crushers doubles tournament with Wyatt. It’s too great a risk.”

“Oh, I see. Wyatt, I love you dearly, but it doesn’t sound like a good idea. Let Darren work here over the summer. Besides, you’re also thinking about taking some summer classes, right?”

Darren nodded. “That’s correct.”

“Oh, come on, that Chicago tournament was awesome. I had a blast. Can you imagine what New York’ll be like?” Wyatt had big dreams in his eyes, and I loved it.

“I’m sorry, Wyatt, but I don’t think I can go. I don’t think Gordo can afford it either. Why don’t you just go by yourself if you’re so obsessed?”

Wyatt facepalmed, but there was no loud smack since he was still wearing his purple headband. “I can’t do doubles by myself, and I’m not about to play with some random boner.”

“Could you please not say things like that in front of my mom?”

“Sorry, aunt Layla.” Wyatt kept glancing at Darren and I. “But you get my point, right? We’re a team. Even if I was just doing singles, I’d want you guys there. I need you guys there.”

Darren stared at Wyatt. Silence. Then he looked back down at his food, and the sounds of silverware scratching the plates resumed.

My heart was swelling. I wanted nothing more than to be able to say yes, but I knew I couldn’t commit. There’s no way my parents would let me go, even if I could afford it.

“We gotta go again. We gotta play competitively this summer. Otherwise, I’m going to go crazy,” Wyatt said.

Darren gave Wyatt another look and then held up his finger. He pulled out his phone and started scrolling. “We can still play competitively this summer. Gordie and I talked last night about how we can do some local tournaments. I even found this article this morning. Check it out, Turbo Games will be hosting a tourney in just a few weeks. Amaya will be there.” Darren handed his phone to Wyatt. “Give that to Gordie when you’re done.”

“Why would we go and play the local tournament if we know we’ll lose to Amaya?” Wyatt asked.

“Read the article, you bonehead. Amaya is going to be there doing signings. She’s not playing in the tournament. They explicitly said that so people think they have a chance to win,” Darren said.

As he was talking, some gears turned in my head. “You know what she’s probably doing? I bet she’s trying to scout players to take to Miami,” I said. “It’s a few weeks before the Miami tournament, but the more I think about it, the less sense it makes. I wonder why she’s just not reaching out to people from the Chicago tournament or something. I’m sure she has other friends, she could ask, right?”

“I think it’s pointless to speculate. We have no idea what her situation is. I think it is a good thing to go through. It looks like there’s a cash prize for the tournament’s winner. Not bad, considering I’m so used to gift cards from those events,” Darren said.

Wyatt passed me the phone. I scanned through the article, trying to see if there was any clue that Amaya might be recruiting people for her Miami expedition, but I didn’t see anything about that. Amaya was doing autographs and she wasn’t participating in the tournament. That was it. $10 to play in the singles tournament and $20 to play in the doubles. I appreciated how affordable it was, but they weren’t sure how many guests were attending yet. It could be an all weekend excursion.

“I’m in.” I slapped the table. “We have to do it. We’ll even have a chance to talk to Amaya! Maybe we can get her to recruit us for her Miami team! We might be able to go after all!”

Darren smirked at me. “Gordie, you and your schemes, man.”

“Yeah, always gotta plan somethin’, huh?” Wyatt laughed.

“What? We have to set goals, right? We have to have some direction here if we want this to be our career.”

“No need to get defensive. I was just making an observation,” Darren said, and his mom started laughing.

“I like this kid. Gordie, you have a good ambition. I, for one, wouldn’t be spending all my time playing video games like that, but hey, you kids are young. And if you’re as good as you say you are, then who knows, maybe you’ll be professionals after all.” Layla winked at Darren and pinched his cheek.

My face started to hurt from smiling. I couldn’t remember a time I felt so happy and a time I felt so at home.

As the weeks passed, the days felt slower than they had ever felt before. School was a drag, but I was getting consistent B’s, which was a considerable improvement. My parents raised their eyebrows when they looked at my report card. It was a much better feeling than seeing them shake their head and say, “You can do better than that, Gordie. You’re a smart kid.”

In between my concentrated spurts of brain use, all I could think about was practicing for the Elite Crushers tournament. In the middle of my more boring classes, I was caught daydreaming of being on stage next to Wyatt, Darren, and Amaya. Playing a specialized edition of Elite Crushers only in Miami, four on four, and going up against Dayzees’s team of dirtbags and embarrassing them in front of the whole world. The Miami Tournament received a million viewers globally, the highest of any other Major Tournament.

Then I’d get caught up thinking about what I would do with $250,000. My parents would tell me I should save it for college, and you know what? I probably would go to college with all that money, major in something easy, be conservative with my money, and keep on playing Elite Crushers into the sunset. Yeah. Hell yeah.

Every weekend was spent with Darren and Wyatt, playing against the brutal computers. No matter how hard we played, we were never a match for them, but it was some damn good practice. The only time there was ever any triumph, Wyatt had at least six drinks in a short time frame. I was beginning to get a little worried about his health. He’d always wake up the following morning with a splitting headache, but I guess that was normal after an evening of heavy drinking.

“I miss going over Wyatt’s house,” I said one night a week before the local tournament.

“What’s wrong with my house?” Darren said while he and Wyatt were in the middle of a match.

“Oh, nothing is wrong with your house; it’s awesome. The gaming room setup you have in here is incredible. It’s a dream, really. I was just curious why we haven’t gone over to Wyatt’s in a while?”

“Are you serious, Gordo? Yeah, my mom is an absolute angel, but my dad still hates me with a fiery passion. If he saw us in my room playing Elite Crushers, I think he’d have an andyrism or whatever—“

“It’s an aneurysm, numbskull,” Darren said.

“Fuck off. But, uh, yeah, Gordie, you understand now why I’ve been coming over here all the time?”

“Yeah, I get it. But doesn’t your dad know that you come over here and play video games all weekend?”

“Uh, when I’m not at the house, he pretends I don’t exist. He doesn’t want to spend his free time thinking about how much of a failure I am.” Wyatt paused the game and gave me his attention. “Not that I think I’m a failure, but I know in his eyes he sees one. I wonder if I was able to make a ton of money from playing Elite Crushers if he’d still see it as a waste of time? Ya know what I mean?”

I nodded. That resonated with me far more than I thought it would. Wyatt was right. The exact same thoughts crossed my mind regarding my parents. I knew that they saw me as a failure in comparison to Michael. Would they still think that if I achieved some financial glory with a video game? “Yeah, I know what you mean. There might not be any notoriety gained with this local tournament, but damn, I’m excited.”

“You guys got the day off of work that Saturday?” Wyatt asked.

“Yeah, Gordie requested it off and was granted the weekend, I requested it off and was granted the weekend, and, well, I know you didn’t have to request off shit.” Darren playfully hit Wyatt’s shoulder.

“All right, all right, make fun of the guy without a job, but we all know who’s the best player in this room,” Wyatt said, shooting us both a funny wide-eyed look.

“And you promise not to drink any alcohol during the tournament, right? We are going in sober. Darren and I will inspect your clothes and watch you get dressed.”

Wyatt cracked up. “Go for it, man. I won’t be bringing any booze.” He took a drink of beer.

“Aye, you certainly need your beer to beat me tonight, buddy,” Darren said.

“Eh, coulda been sober.” Wyatt shrugged.

“And whatever you do, please, for the love of God, do not go out drinking the night before like last time,” I said.

Wyatt cackled. “All right, whatever you say, Dad.”

I grinned. “If I was your dad, I’d be screaming about how much of a failure you are.”

“The night is still young. Let my dad’s hate flow through you,” Wyatt gurgled in a funny voice.

We all were laughing hysterically.