My squad leader is a goddess.

No, seriously. Her name is Jupiter, which means The Supreme God. How cool is that? She's also a senior with long brown hair and killer green highlights. And I'm totally freaking out because I'm a member of Gauntlet Squad.

My life is so cool.

"Merlin, are you listening?" Jupiter asks. She's all business.

"Oh, yes, of course." But I can't stop gawking as I sneak another peak at the two massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceiling of the great dining hall, which is in its own category of amazing with all kinds of intricate woodwork trimmed in gold and fancy murals of angels and gold chariots riding through the clouds.

She folds her arms. "Ok, give me a recap."

"Well, this place is amazing. You're amazing." I put down my phone on the enormous wood table, one of three, in the empty dining hall and lock in on her for a second or two, but I can't keep my eyes from wandering to the marble fireplace. The hero-sized mantle is tall enough to walk under without ducking. How cool would it be if it had a secret hidden passageway?

"Hello, Merlin?" Jupiter snaps her fingers at me. "The game-based learning model we use at Code-X Academy—recap, now."

"Oh, yeah...um, that's amazing, too." But I can't stop wondering how I ended up in a palace. Because that's the only way to describe The Breakers, a palatial retreat fit for kings and queens. And the most unlikely of places to school a bunch of nerds.

Jupiter sighs and then slaps the table. "Merlin, focus. God, you're like a two-year-old."

I stare at her, avoiding the temptation to look away, even though the heavy drapes in the row of picturesque windows are parted wide enough to take in the spectacular ocean view. Because I want her to look into my eyes. My dad told me my electric blues are my magic weapon, like a spark or zap of lighting. I'm not so sure but staring at her helps me focus.

And now I'm ready.

"Code-X Academy is a real-life-multi-player-role-playing game or RPG. Although, that's more like RLMPRPG." I smile and feel the heat from my big ears turning red under my shaggy hair. That happens when I'm in attack mode. "And XP, or experience points, is how we're ranked both individually and as a team. Oh, and we're called PCs (player characters), not students. The Breakers is basically Hogwarts for nerds without magic. Super cool and amazing and I'm so in. Did I miss anything?"

"Good." The corner of her mouth twitches as if she's resisting a smile. "But, ew...don't ever compare The Breakers to Hogwarts again. There is no chosen one here. Killing is encouraged. And Hufflepuffs would never survive."

"Wait, what...k-killing?"

A bell rings and Jupiter gets up. "You'll figure things out fast enough. This is our squad's table. Go line up for lunch through those doors and then come back here to meet the crew."

As if on cue, a steady stream of PCs enters the dining hall. The distraction helps me forget about the killing-is-encouraged part because I can't help but imagine everyone as actual player characters in a game, changing their skins on the regular.

Now that would be cool.

I hop in the growing line and grab a food tray. I'm smiling. I'm actually smiling at school. And at lunch of all places. I have a place to sit. I'm a member of Gauntlet Squad. And my life now orbits Jupiter. I'm over the moon happy. Her moon. But I'm not saying anything. She might shoot me.

"You must be the new kid." A rather small and skinny boy looks up at me when I turn around. He has short, dark hair, high cheekbones, and barely reaches the middle of my chest. "Cool tee," he adds with a slight grin. "Zoro's pretty lit."

I look at the other PCs around us, confused. "Me?"

"Do you see anyone else with a pirate hunter on their shirt?"

A nervous chuckle escapes my lips. "Right." But then I smile because he recognized the anime character on my shirt. And especially because he called me cool. Ok, he called my One Piece tee cool, but I'm wearing the shirt, which means I must be cool too.

Freak'n Merlin's beard—I'm cool!

"I'm G." He holds out his slender hand. "I'm in seventh grade."

"Merlin." His hand disappears in mine when we shake, and I don't squeeze hard because I'm afraid his bird bones might break.

He stares at me with a funny grin. "Do you always smile so much?"

"What, um, no...sorry." The truth is the corners of my mouth hurt from stretching to my ears, but I can't pull them back. "It's just this place is so..." The view of the kitchen sucks me in with the long row of cast-iron stoves and the gigantic granite island and the horde of copper pots hanging from the ceiling and the mind-boggling display of food—soups and sandwiches and salads and hamburgers and pizza...

"Amazing?" G laughs. "Don't worry. I get it. The Breakers is amazing. But you'll get used to the place."

"I don't think I want to."

We both laugh.

"I'm in sixth grade. Oh, and I'm in Gauntlet Squad." Saying the miracle out loud stretches my facial muscles to a new level of happy pain.

"I know. Me, too." He looks away, grimacing. "But we're in last place, which totally sucks."

"How many squads are there? Jupiter hasn't filled me in on everything yet."

"Sounds normal." The swoop of hair covering G's forehead bounces lightly as we shuffle forward in line. "There are three: Gauntlet, DOOM, and Contra. The squad leaders went retro this year during the annual Codex Draft. The names are all based on cult video games from the 1980s."

"That's so cool!"

"Did you know Gauntlet was one of the first multi-player RPGs created by Atari?"

"Of course."

"Then you know that—"

"Merlin the Wizard is one of the four main characters—yes. But trust me, I'm not magic."

G chuckles as we approach the serving area. "Merlin, look around you. You're here...that's magic enough."

"Maybe you're right."

He slaps my arm. "I'm always right."

"You're a nerd. You have to say that."

We laugh again as a million questions run through my head. I want to ask what the CodeX Draft is about, but for once I hold back. Laughing with a friend is good enough. At least I hope he's my friend.

My first friend!

This day is incredible. And they have my all-time favorite soup: New England Clam Chowder and in bread bowls. My stomach growls like I haven't eaten in a year. At least that's what it feels like since my mom left after the tour. How can a place so quickly feel like home? I load my bread bowl until it spills over the sides.

I freeze in front of the drink station. The fancy machine lets you mix and match flavors of soda, juice, and water. So cool. After some debate, I choose cranberry juice, apple juice, and Sprite—my favorite holiday mix. We haven't had our special red drink since my dad disappeared, but today is a day worth celebrating.

Best day ever.

So, I fill up two glasses to the tippy top. My aching smile refuses to quit. Who knew being happy could hurt so much? I see G exit the kitchen through the swinging doors and hurry out to see if I can sit next to him. He waves to me, and my eager smile nearly splits my face in two. But when I look down at my tray, I realize I forgot a spoon.

I nod at G before rushing back to the kitchen. Only right as I reach the door, it swings open and slams into me. My food tray smashes against my chest. Clam chowder, soggy bread, and red drink slosh all over me before crashing to the floor as I stumble backward and fall onto my bony bum.

Ow. Ew, gross. Noooo!

My pants and favorite t-shirt are soaking wet with what looks like goopy zombie guts. Lumpy innards drip down my face as an eerie silence sucks the life out of the dining hall and whatever color I might have had in my face.

Everyone's eyes are on me. The new kid. All hope of being cool vanishes into thin air, and I want to crawl into a hole to die. When I find the courage to look up at the culprit who rammed the door into me...I see the dumbest coolest boy I know.