“If I didn’t run on junk food, I’d starve.” Jasper was already clicking around his laptop, opening browser tabs with impressive speed.
“Like your mom would let that happen.” His mom wasn’t a health nut, but with five kids, she did a lot more home-cooked meals than mine, especially when they were all younger.
“Truth.” Laughing, Jasper took a swig of his soda, then gestured at his machine. “Okay. Let’s start our hunt. I’ve bookmarked some of the most likely places. A simple search engine isn’t going to turn up much.”
“I know. I tried,” I groaned. I had looked. Saturday night after the whole mess with George, I’d tried to see what I could find before I’d had the courage to ask Jasper for help. “And I suck at searching. Like, there’s 2,000 results, and after five or so, they all start bleeding together in my brain.”
Jasper nodded because this was hardly news to him. I’d talked him into doing most of the heavy lifting with group projects in middle school. His mouth pursed as his expression turned more thoughtful.
“How did you cope with papers at college? I heard you got a soccer scholarship somewhere out of state.”
“It wasn’t easy,” I admitted. And with anyone else, I wouldn’t share this much, but Jasper already knew me on a deeper level than some of the kids I’d shared a dorm with. “I practically lived at the writing center and still struggled. This one tutor there suggested that maybe I have some sort of learning disability. Like my processor doesn’t run at the same speed as others.”
“I can see that.” Jasper didn’t sound at all judgmental as he clicked away on his laptop. “There’s help for all sorts of learning differences these days. But you’re not at college now?”
“No.” I sat back in my chair.
“Oh. Right. Your leg. Was it—”
“Can we talk about the cards now?”
“Got it. No more questions.”
Predictably, as soon as his tone went cool, I missed his prying. God, I was a mess. “Sorry. That was rude of me.”
“Nah. It’s okay. I was being nosy.” Jasper shrugged, but only some of his easiness returned. “Anyway, here’s what I’m finding. Some partial sets for, like, $5K.”
He tapped his screen, which had a bunch of pictures of cards with price tags with way too many zeroes.
“F—”
“Yeah, I know. It’s a lot.”
“There’s no cheaper way to score these cards?” Squinting, I leaned forward, like that might help the screen show something different.
“Like armed robbery?” Jasper laughed, then sobered as he clicked over to another browser tab. “Occasionally, you’ll see one or two offered on a prize wall at a tournament. Like here’s one this weekend in Philly. It’s a decent competition. I won a bunch of transforming cards there last year.”
“Hold up. You’re good enough at the game to win prizes?” Turning in my chair, I studied him, almost like I was seeing him for the first time. He’d had a whole life in the years since we’d been friends. And he wasn’t simply this computer wizard good at searches. He was…competent. Successful. A stranger.
“Why, yes, Milo. I’ve only been playing since I was sixteen. I’m on a popular vlog about the game. I’ve played at various regional tournaments. I’m not a pro, but I am good.” His expression was closer to the Frog Wizard than the Jasper I knew. This guy was cocky. Radiating confidence.
“Better than George?” I tried like heck not to let on how freaking impressed I was.
“George cheats.” Jasper made a pained face. “But yes, assuming he’s not loading his deck with bombs, I’m the better player.”
“Good on you.” A stray thought wandered into my brain and wouldn’t let go. “So you could maybe win that card?”
Jasper blinked. “You want me to enter that tournament, go to Philly on Saturday, and fetch you one of the missing cards? Is that all?”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“It’s a ton of work. It’s not like some casual games with friends.”
“I know.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I inhaled sharply. I should have known better than to share my big brainstorm. It wasn’t like I could do it—playing with George had proved to me how very little I knew.
“But…maybe we could make a deal.” Jasper voice had an edge to it I couldn’t quite place. A slyness almost. Not like George-level sliminess but a little more calculating than I was used to from him.
“What sort of deal?” My head tilted as I considered him.
“You can stop looking like I’m about to ask for…personal favors.”
I made an audible gulping noise. My brain hadn’t gone there at first, but now he’d said it, vivid images danced in my mind, each more enticing than the last.
“Yeah. I know. The horror.” He rolled his eyes as he laughed.
He couldn’t be more wrong, but words failed me. And even if I’d managed to speak, volunteering for those kinds of favors probably wouldn’t go well. He’d assume I was pranking him, and that would be the end of his help.