CHAPTER 2

"We'll have to get a place for you to sleep, I just have the couch for now…or I guess you can sleep in my room if you want and I'll take the couch, it doesn't really matter to me—oh and I'll have to get some food that you like, I mean I know you like strawberry stuff okay but that's pretty much all I have, and—"

"Taffyta, it's fine!" King Candy said with a chuckle, holding out his hands. "I'll sthleep on the couch for now. Till I get a place of my own. You know, all that empty land just waiting for a little homestead, I'm sure it won't take long to find something."

A place of my own. She could see him, despite his words to the contrary, come to the same conclusion that she just had. Sugar Rush was a big place, but the racers had it pretty well parceled out into their own territory, and no one was going to let him build a house in their spot. Oh well. They'd cross that bridge when they had to. For now she was happy to have him here.

It was weird seeing him in her living room. Even if he wasn't technically a king anymore, he still looked every inch the royalty he'd been to her for fifteen years. He still had the same presence that he always had. Even the fact that he was standing there with everything he owned in the whole world held in his arms didn't change that.

His eyes shifted to hers and he caught her staring at him, but instead of dropping her gaze she kept looking. "What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just thinking," she said.

"Chocolate coin for your thoughtsth."

For a moment, she kept looking at him. Then she replied, "I don't think you've ever been here."

"No, well, why would I?" he asked breezily. "The whole game was mine, you know. And the castle." He hesitated. "I figured you wanted to explore. See thingsth you normally didn't get to."

Except she did normally get to see them—with him she did, at least. That was something else she was having trouble getting used to, even after six months. She'd as good as been the princess of Sugar Rush, and now she was more like a prison guard for the man who'd given all of that to her. She wondered if he saw her that way too, and hoped not.

"Yeah," she said. "I did." Then, she shrugged. "I just…you don't seem out of place, is all. And I guess maybe I always thought you would." Taffyta hesitated for a moment, and then said in a rush, "You don't mind being here right? I mean you were king for fifteen years and this is…well it's a step down, actually it's a lot of steps down, not that it's not nice but it's nice for me and maybe it won't be nice for you and—" And what was she afraid of exactly? That he was going to leave? Vanellope had made it abundantly clear that he wasn't allowed to leave.

And not just Vanellope. Wreck-It Ralph, Fix-It Felix, Sergeant Calhoun, even monotone, boring old Surge Protector had shown a spark of feeling when the whole arcade, everyone who mattered at least, had gotten together and agreed that King Candy was under no circumstances allowed to leave Sugar Rush. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't game jump, didn't have plans to do something awful, like take over another game and hold it hostage and do…something, though no one seemed too sure what that something was. There was a current of anger in the arcade these days, and an undercurrent of fear. Or at least, something that reminded her of fear, like the coppery scent of blood tendrilling out from an open wound in water.

His eyebrow stayed arched. "You do remember that teensy little detail of how I've been living in the fungeon for the past half a year?" Glancing around, he said, "It probably doesn't seem like I much appreciate the hospitality of othersth, but Taffyta, trust me. Even if I'd come straight from the castle, this isn't a step down."

The hospitality comment made her mind flicker with questions for a second—hospitality like, how he'd come to be in Sugar Rush in the first place, who he'd bribed and tricked and lied to. He'd never told her, she'd never asked. She wasn't sure either of them ever would.

And she wasn't sure it mattered. What could he possibly tell her at this point that would change how she felt about him?

"Well…" she said. "Well, good."

He looked around the room and then set down the box that he'd been holding. There was nothing in it except a few trinkets she'd brought to him during his stay in the fungeon—the painting she'd done for him of course, and settled at the bottom, his racing goggles and gloves. She wondered if he'd ever have any reason to wear them again.

Now that was a depressing thought. King Candy, never racing again? No way. It was unthinkable. Which was exactly why she hadn't really thought it. Not exactly. Not so solidly.

She shook the thought away, though not before a new thought could flit through her mind—how long before Vanellope lets him race? Yeah right, Taffyta—just deal with this first. One impossible thing at a time.

"So," King Candy said, as he glitched to Turbo. "Never had a roommate. What do you normally do for fun around here?"

"Well," she said, feeling strangely shy all of a sudden, "Pink Lightning needs a tune-up. I haven't raced since Friday. But don't you want to, like, get settled in?"

He glanced down and toed the box. "Oh, it'll take so long to unpack," he said sarcastically. His fingers flickered with binary. "I suppose we could take a few minutes to look at your kart. You know, as long as it doesn't take too much time out of my busy schedule."

It was a joke, but at the same time it wasn't, and Taffyta's smile was forced. He saw it, too—she'd never been able to hide much from him. As he glitched back to King Candy, he said, "Taffyta—you know it'sth not you I'm mad at."

"I know, I know," she said quickly. "But I…I mean, I feel like I should be doing something, like…"

When she trailed off, he prompted, "Like what?"

"I don't know!" she said, feeling suddenly frustrated. "Something. This isn't what you want. All this?" She gestured to the room but both of them knew she meant more than that. "It's nice of you to say this is good enough but we both know it's not. You shouldn't be sleeping on my couch and helping me tune up my kart, you should be…you should be…"

He was staring at her, waiting for her to finish. Waiting with a stillness that was unusual for him. Waiting for her to speak, she realized, in a way that wasn't unusual for him to wait for her to speak at all. Everyone else, he'd interrupt or talk over or his attention would wander to something he felt was more important. But he listened to her.

Taffyta gave a frustrated sigh. "You should be racing, that's what you should be doing. You should be on the roster, racing your kart, winning races—"

"All of them," he said, studying his fingernails.

"Some of them," Taffyta said with a smirk. They met each other's eyes. "This is stupid," she said. "And it's not fair."

Even though it really was. Considering who he was, and what he'd done, by most arcade residents' standards, King Candy had come out the other side of fair and was getting way more than he deserved. Vanellope had been generous. More than generous.

But suddenly it wasn't enough. Not for her, and especially not for him.

And then she thought of the arcade—of the anger and fear and outright hatred, and she wondered if they'd ever give him a chance.

The fight went out of her. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the morning finally wearing off. Quietly, she said, "Everyone else in the arcade thinks you're a liar at best and a sociopath at worst, and the rest see you as a bad guy. But I know that there's more to you than that. 'Cause you can be really kind, and—and sweet, and, well, good. And I want everyone else to see that too. I want you to be able to do what you love."

King Candy didn't speak for another long moment, and she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Finally, he said, "You're very naïve."

Taffyta cracked a smile. "Hey, I'm a kid, what do you expect?"

"Taffyta, I—" Something made him stop, and he sighed. "My cynicism, I guessth. Sorry, Taffyta, sometimes I forget I'm an old man and you're most definitely not."

"You're not old."

"Might as well be."

"You're not old," she insisted. When he opened his mouth to protest again, she said, "Especially now that I know you're really—I mean…" She trailed off. Why was it still so awkward to just say who he was? Neither of them was comfortable with it. Funny thing was, he seemed almost more uncomfortable about it than she was. "How old were you supposed to be, anyway? In Turbotime?"

The question seemed to surprise him, and he furrowed his brow as he began, "I…hm. I never really thought about it. Wasn't exactly programmed with a lot of backstory, you know."

"You never knew how old you were?"

"You know believe it or not, when you're a geezer like me from a game plugged in in the 80s—what's that thing they say? Age is just a number?" When she just kept watching him incredulously, he laughed and said, "Call it thirty-five, okay?"

She blinked and didn't say anything.

"What?"

"Well, it's just…" Taking a breath, she said, "I guess I just never realized that…well, you are kind of old."

"And just—hoohoohoo—when I thought I wasn't right about anything anymore." He glitched red, held his Turbo form for a second, and looked down at his grey hands, before returning to King Candy. Then his face grew serious, and he fiddled with his bow tie with one hand as he said, "I'll try."

"Try?" she asked, confused.

He hesitated. "I'll try to not disappoint you. I'll try to…you know. Make sure that your faith in me isn't…misthplaced. Even though," he added quickly, "it probably is." Drawing a breath, he said, "I'll try to be nicer. To everyone. That'sth what you want, right?"

She wasn't going to run through all the reasons that she did, so all she said was, "Yes."

"Okay."

"Including Vanellope."

He rolled his eyes.

"You have to be nicer to Vanellope. If you were, then maybe, I don't know, maybe she'll like, see how you really are, and maybe…then…" Taffyta trailed off as King Candy's eyebrows kept creeping steadily higher. "I didn't say you two were going to be best friends or anything," she muttered.

There was a pause, and then he put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll give being civil a shot, how about that? And then…you know." He shrugged. "We'll see."

She gave him a determined look. "You are going to be a racer again."

Smiling at her, he said, "If you say so, my dear. If you say so."

Taffyta meant it. She did. But no matter how much she thought about it over the next few days, she couldn't find a way to make Vanellope see that allowing King Candy to race was the right thing to do. Actually, she couldn't even think of a way to approach Vanellope about it. And—well, that was because she knew what Vanellope would say. In fact she was pretty sure Vanellope wouldn't say anything, she'd just walk away. Her president sure wasn't gonna listen to her list all the reasons that the man who had taken over her game and tried to delete her code should be let back on the track.

Still. It didn't mean she was going to stop thinking about it.

Four days later and she still hadn't come up with a solution, but she'd have the entire day to come up with it, since she wasn't racing. She spent the day puttering around her garage, doing routine work that her kart needed and some work that it didn't. When she'd polished it to its customary bright pink gleam, she walked slowly back into the house.

King Candy was pacing back and forth across her house, from the kitchen to the living room and back, like the caged Malteser Dogs that he'd kept in Sugar Rush Castle for a few months. That had been, oh, years ago now, when he'd talked about having a menagerie for all the racers to enjoy, back before he'd tried and failed to tame the Uni-candy-corn. Eventually he'd given up and let the Malteser Dogs go again—the Devil Dogs' howling had scared them, and Black Licorice Panthers had started prowling around the cage anyway. King Candy had wanted to catch them for the menagerie too, but they were too smart for the traps.

"Hey," she said, and he turned to face her. She wasn't sure if he hadn't known she was there, or if he had waited for her to say something just for the sake of waiting. "I was wondering if you wanted to go watch a few races," she said, before she could remind herself that this was probably the last thing he wanted to do. Still, watching a race counted as doing something, which was way better than doing nothing and filling your hours with staring and pacing. It was the bulk of what he'd done for the past four days. Sure, Taffyta knew it was what he'd done in the fungeon—so it wasn't like he wasn't used to it—but it gave her the uncomfortable feeling that her house was just another prison to him.

Looking exaggeratedly at his wrist, he said, "Gee, I think I have an appointment coming up, here."

"Come on," she said. "It might be fun?"

The look he gave her suggested otherwise.

"It would do you good to get out of the house," she tried.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he replied, "You might—hoohoo—have a point about that."

She nodded firmly and took the remaining steps to his side, where she grabbed his hand. He didn't pull away, like she half-expected him to. "This is always the best time of day to watch a race," she said, "when all the schools let out, and the kids get here, and…" She trailed off, realizing that duh, of course, he knew all this. It was the time of day that all the top racers liked best, because the quarter alerts meant good players. They'd all had their fair share of driving into walls, driving backwards, driving off cliffs and the edge of the road and out to the drop-off out at Chocolate Seashell Beach by this point in the day.

After a moment, he shrugged and nodded. "It's something to do. I sthuppose."

They walked all the way to the starting line. For a second, Taffyta considered suggesting that they take her kart. He'd fit on the back if he held on, and they would have got there way faster. But before the thought had even fully formed, she was rejecting it. King Candy, a passenger on someone else's kart? In the game that had been his? Or—at least the game they'd all thought was his.

No way. Never.

Luckily it wasn't too far. Strawberry Fields was in the start of the rolling hills just outside town and they got there quickly enough. The streets were empty, as usual. Most of the NPCs were in the stands, and Taffyta tried not to let her relief show. Whenever they'd encountered any of the other Sugar Rush citizens during King Candy's field trips away from the fungeon, the screaming had been…well, kind of bad. The screaming and the running. And once someone had thrown nonpareils at them. At him, really, but they'd hit her, too, and that had been…it was just…well, mean. Everyone had been mean.

She guessed they both deserved it, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

As they passed through the empty streets, binary ran up and down King Candy's form. "Is it always this dead during arcade hours?"

Of course—he wouldn't know, because he'd so rarely not been on the roster. And when he hadn't been, he sure wasn't hanging around watching the rest of them race. "Pretty much," she answered. As they approached the stands, she spotted the concessions counter and asked, "Hey, do you want some lemon drops?"

He flipped a wrist in response, which she took as assent. Getting the box of lemon drops gave her an excuse to stall and prepare herself to deal with the screaming and possible stampede of NPCs fleeing from them.

These days, Beard Papa was manning the concessions stand. Vanellope had figured there wasn't much need for security at the kart factory anymore. And he slept on the job anyway. Probably wasn't getting as much shut-eye anymore—and as if to prove that point, when Taffyta stuck her head over the counter, Beard Papa was just settling back in his chair and letting his eyes droop shut.

They popped open when he saw her there, and he scanned her face before focusing on something behind her. That would be King Candy. So much for not freaking people out.

"I just want to get some lemon drops," she blurted out before he could say anything. When his eyes shifted back to her, she added, "While I—we—watch the race."

Beard Papa took his hand away from his belt. He'd been reaching for the walkie talkie that was no longer there. Taffyta's heart panged but she tried not to let it show on her face. "I don't have to serve you," Beard Papa said grumpily. "Don't see why I should. Game-jumping creep. Nice girl like you shouldn't be involved with him."

Taffyta tried not to glare. She'd learned this—the last thing you wanted was to let them see that they were getting to you. At first she'd been really proud of herself for coming up with this coping mechanism on her own. Then she remembered. She'd seen it before. It was how Vanellope had dealt with her—dealt with all of them—while King Candy had been running Sugar Rush.

After that, she wasn't quite as impressed with herself. "Can I just have some lemon drops?"

Grumbling something unintelligible, Beard Papa reached into a bin and scooped a carton full of lemon drops, then pushed them across the counter towards her. "Here."

Taffyta snatched it and turned around. Before she rejoined King Candy, though, she shot over her shoulder, "You didn't think King Candy was a game-stealing creep back when you were hanging those 'No Glitches Allowed' signs all over the kart factory." Without giving him a chance to respond—which didn't work at all, because he yelled something at her back—she headed to the stairs that led into the stands.

King Candy was already standing there, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised. "That went well."

She didn't answer, just stomped up the stairs, one or two lemon drops bouncing out of the carton.

The NPCs in the assorted fans section reacted predictably to the appearance of King Candy. Well, Turbo, by the time they got there, not that anyone stuck around to see him glitch between forms. His hands were still flickering red as they sat down in the now-empty stands. Something occurred to her for the first time—were they visible to the gamers, sitting there? And if they were, what would they think?

Another thought occurred to her. Did the gamers miss King Candy? Did they even notice he was gone? She glanced at Turbo out of the corner of her eye, watching as he balanced a lemon drop on his knee, then flicked it away. It clattered down the empty bleachers.

Neither of them said anything. Taffyta was having a hard time remembering why she'd thought this would be a good idea. She needed to make this better. She needed to—to—to act like everything was fine, and then it would be fine. Fake it till you make it. Like smiling even when you were sad. If you forced yourself to do it long enough then eventually you'd be smiling for real and not faking it anymore, and you'd cheer yourself up.

Taffyta looked up at the jumbotron, flipping between camera angles on Candy Cane Forest. What a snoozefest. The gamer had selected Jubileena, who was maintaining a steady fifth place. Good thing the gamers couldn't see the faces of the avatars they'd selected because Jubileena did not look happy.

"There's only one person playing right now," Turbo said, breaking the silence.

"So? That happens all the time."

"Yeah, but not at this time of day. All the kids just got out from school, they're normally lined up to play Sugar Rush! But I don't see a line, do you?"

Taffyta looked over her shoulder and up at the screen. He was right—she couldn't see a line. Glancing back at him, she asked, "How do you know that?"

He popped a lemon drop into his mouth, glitching back to King Candy mid-toss. "Because it was my job to notice these things. I'm king. Er, well, was. Wasth king," he amended at the look she shot him. He raised an eyebrow at her. "You know, why is it that everyone loved me, but as soon as the glitch took over, everything good that I ever did got tossed right out the window?"

She took a lemon drop from the bowl sitting between them. "Is that a serious question that you want an answer to?"

"Sure."

"You usurped the game and locked up our memories. That's kind of the first thing people remember."

He looked wounded. "But I was a good king! For fifteen years! Fifteen years I took care of this game, I never let you kids get into trouble out in Game Central Station, I kept the NPCs happy, we were never out of order for more than a day—"

"You tried to delete our princess and lied to us," Taffyta pointed out. He shut his mouth, and she sighed. "No, look, I know that you did good things for us. And I'm trying to get other people to see that too. Or at least, not see only the bad things." She hesitated, then said, "I think Candlehead might be coming around."

His face fell. "Candlehead? Great."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She'll come around on anything if you repeat it to her enough times."

"That's because she's nice," Taffyta said huffily. "I thought you liked Candlehead."

King Candy smirked and opened his mouth to respond, then closed it as the jumbotron flashed and NPCs cheered. The gamer had managed to finish fourth with Jubileena. A mediocre race. That really was unusual at this time. The older kids, the ones who were really good, didn't get fourth place.

Leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, he said, "I do. Like Candlehead, I mean. She's fine."

"You do?" a voice squealed from behind them.

Taffyta and King Candy both twisted around to see Candlehead standing there beaming. Behind her, Rancis was shuffling his feet, looking decidedly less happy to be there.

"I thought maybe you didn't," Candlehead went on brightly, "because of…well, you being Turbo." Rancis flinched when she said this, and King Candy's form flickered while his face twitched. "What are you two doing? Watching races? I don't think they were very good today—none of us were racing. Not that you can race anymore, King Candy—or wait, should I be calling you Turbo? Taffyta, what did you say to call him?"

"The etiquette of being a glitch," King Candy sighed.

"That's what we used to call Vanellope! Only—" Candlehead's expression dimmed. "—only, it wasn't nice that we did that."

"We did it because of him," Rancis muttered.

King Candy glanced at him, the set of his eyebrows somewhere between annoyed and resigned, but he only responded to Candlehead, saying, "The irony—hoohoo—isn't lost on me."

"Um," Candlehead said. Her cheerfulness was fading. Glancing at Taffyta, she asked, "So…was it fun? Watching?"

Before King Candy could answer, Taffyta said, "Not really. Watching isn't the same."

"Yeah." Candlehead twisted a strand of green hair around her finger. "Sometimes I don't like how the roster is random now, you know? I liked racing every day!" She grinned at this, and Taffyta caught a glint of what made her friend so lethal on the track in that smile.

"Vanellope just wants to make it fair," Rancis said, still sounding like this was the last place he wanted to be. At that, King Candy snorted—quietly, but loud enough for all three of them to hear. Rancis bristled. "I guess you have a problem with that?"

Binary ran up his arms and Taffyta held her breath. This moment had become tense enough without him turning to Turbo in the middle of it. His eyes flashed yellow for a second, but he held his form, then raised an eyebrow. "Fair is in the eye of the beholder. I didn't hear you complaining when you were placing in the Random Roster Race every day."

Rancis turned red. "Yeah, well," he spluttered. "If I'd known what you…who you were, and what you did—" He took a deep breath and stood as tall as he could. "I don't know why Vanellope let you stay, but you better show more respect."

"Oh?" King Candy said, looking amused. "You've become her knight in shining armor then, have you? That lumbering oaf Ralph has competition!" This last part was accompanied by a mean laugh, and Taffyta felt herself shrinking. Of course she knew that her friends wouldn't—couldn't— get along, not anymore. Not now that they all knew who King Candy really was.

"I'm just looking out for her!" Rancis snapped, his fists clenched at his sides. He wouldn't throw a punch, would he? For a second, Taffyta stared at him. That would be…well, that would be really stupid. Not that King Candy was much bigger than any of them—a few inches, at most—but Vanellope had let slip a few times what had gone on during that fateful Random Roster Race. How he'd attacked her. It was just another thing to make her stomach twist with discomfort. Taffyta had never seen him violent. Honestly, she could barely picture it. But Vanellope didn't have any reason to lie. Which meant that Rancis, if he started a fight, wouldn't have much of a chance.

Maybe Rancis was remembering the same thing, or maybe he just realized that starting a fistfight was a terrible idea. Either way, he just made an exasperated noise, then said, "Whatever. I'm going over to Candy Cane Forest. Candlehead, Taff? You want to come?"

"Yeah!" Candlehead exclaimed, leaving Taffyta to stand there awkwardly, hemming and hawing, while Rancis looked unsurprised and even more unimpressed.

"Maybe tomorrow," she finally said, trying to sound as if this moment wasn't supremely uncomfortable. At this response, Rancis looked contemptuous. It reminded her, with a stab, of the months just after the game had changed—er, that is, returned to normal, and Vanellope had taken her rightful place, and Taffyta had been a pariah. She didn't know what else to say, though, so she didn't say anything, turning a fixed smile on Candlehead as Rancis turned and walked away, heading for his kart.

Candlehead looked uncomfortable. "Um, so, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Taffyta," she said. The fixed smile still on her face—her cheeks were starting to hurt—Taffyta just nodded, and Candlehead hesitated for another second before following Rancis.

Then, unexpectedly, she turned around. "Bye, King Candy. Maybe you could come racing with us sometime, too."

King Candy stared at her, then his mouth twitched into a smile. It was genuine and bitter and sad all at the same time, all wrapped up in him not wanting to show any of that. "Maybe."

With that, Candlehead hurried to her kart, and once she'd revved it and sped off, Taffyta and King Candy were left alone in the stands. Even most of the NPCs had left. She finally let the forced smile fall off her face, and her shoulders sagged. Why in the world had she ever thought any of this would work? What was she going to do?

But then, surprising her, King Candy looked at her, the expression on his face just a little less bitter than it had been. "Well," he said, "it wasn't great, but it's a start, don't you think?"

For a second, she just stared at him, but then, she smiled too.

She'd figure this out. She was Taffyta Muttonfudge, and he was King Candy. Well, he was Turbo, but it all came to the same thing. And the thing was…well.

The thing was, Taffyta and King Candy, they didn't give up.