SENIOR YEAR
"Die, zombie, die!" Tuck screamed. His finger slammed the x button repeatedly, cursing as it jammed. Next to him, his frat brothers howled.
"C'mon, Mr. President," his opponent sneered. "How're you supposed to run the house if you can't even beat me in DOOMED: APOCALYPSE EDITION?"
The older boy swore and leaned into his controller. No way in hell had he stayed up all night for a week practicing with Sam just to lose. (That girl was a pain in the ass when she was tired).
"Looks like someone's trying to overcompensate with trash talk," he huffed as he dealt the final blow to his zombie opponent. "Last I checked, someone's still stuck on level six."
Their audience "ooo"ed, laughing and clapping Tucker on the back. Royers blushed.
"At least I'm not running out of HP fast," he defended. Tuck snickered.
"Nice comeback."
The other boy took the time to flip him off before turning back to the game.