text: And rise and shine! Drumroll please. Welcome to what I like to call our school east locale, aka the right side of the building as you come through the courtyard. I texted everyone and we are now huddling, shivering, outside the school. Because while it isn't a freezing cold morning, it isn't all that warm either, a situation caused mostly by an imperative that school must continue to start at an ungodly hour, even if that means in the dark.
  
  However, this morning I didn't care all that much; everyone could shiver for just a minute. "Okay. I've got this." I pause for dramatic effect, although not as long as I would like. The wind that suddenly swirls through and around the building blows (yes, pun intended) the moment.
  
  "It's a Zero Sum Game."
  
  Um, hello? Perhaps a small admiring head bob? Maybe a knowing nod? Wow. Nothing. Other than four self-hugging, feet-stamping, shivering bodies. Apparently they will need more.
  
  "So I get it. I know it's not that big a deal, more like a curiosity."
  
  And as I pause, a small memory comes back to me, that late-night slight twist on the discovery. "You know, maybe it's even the question, and not the answer. Which of and by itself could be a clue." And I look from one to the next, seeking signs of intelligent life. Wow. Knock knock. Anyone home?
  
  Finally, I turn directly to Vikram. "Look, I've tracked a zillion sites and I can't find any of your loot for sale."
  
  I continue to lay out my case, moving slowly person to person. "Then I added two nights of doing nothing other than perusing tons of global chat and again found zip. No one else talking about being ripped off, no one talking about hearing about anyone being stolen from, no one talking about buying anything from anywhere."
  
  Now I'm circling, putting it all together. "So my point is, there's no benefit. Whoever did this is playing a zero sum game, which makes no sense. Which means if we can solve that riddle, we have the thief."
  
  Granted, maybe this was clearer to me at three in the morning, but I'm still pretty darn pumped. And I'm kind of thinking, welcome to my moment of awesome ...
  
  Until I turn my beaming self to Vikram, who looks at me like I have three heads. "Sid, did I ask you to do this?"
  
  Horrible sinking feeling, the one where everyone within a radius of twelve miles will know I have been outed as some kind of lame fraud, emblazoned with a scarlet L, the ultimate accessory for losers, grabs hold. And tightens. Rendering me speechless.
  
  And no one is saying anything because they are as stunned as I am, which leaves an opening just small enough for Vikram to explode through. "What makes you think I want your help?" And there's nowhere for me to hide. "Don't you get it? It's over for me. I don't care anymore. My stuff. My stuff ...is all gone."
  
  His hands are flying about, but then they lower, and Vikram steps up, closer to me and pulls himself up as tall and as straight as he can. "When I played, and I won, I did it the real way. Now it's all about Loot Boxes and money. And it's all crass."
  
  In my brain I keep pleading with myself, please don't cry, Sid. Don't let them see you cry. And my desperate attempts to escape this mortification, calling out to my internal reserves, are failing miserably.
  
  It's a curb-stomp battle my sucker-punched solar plexus never saw coming.
  
  So I don't care when he spins around to leave. I am busy trying to get my breathing to hold steady. And I don't pay any attention as Ari is trying to reach out to him. So when Vikram turns back one last time, "And you, you're standing here, telling me there wasn't even a reason, that I was just a victim for nothing. Like that's some kind of freaking accomplishment."
  
  I am not ready. My shields are still down.
  
  But he's not done. Like a fighter pilot with one payload left, sensing an opening, he pulls up, thrusts, and delivers. "You know Sid, if you really want to help me, just show up and code. I don't need you to fix this. So just," Vikram pauses for a slight second, "just be who I need you to be. Okay?"
  
  And with that last blow, he spins and leaves.
  
  Before I can do anything— scream, cry, run, hide— I feel the familiar arms of The Flynn spin me around, and I lean into his big, enveloping hug, burying my nose in his chest. "Sid, you know Vik doesn't mean a word of that. He's just so mad and you walked into it. It's like when you throw an interception and your parents say things like, 'You'll get 'em next time.' Or you strike out and they say, 'Good cut, son.' Even though they mean well, it sometimes feels even worse."
  
  "So." I stay enveloped, taking a minute and letting Jimmy's warmth comfort me. Inhaling his familiar smell. "What do I do now?"
  
  "You go find the asshat who stole Vikram's stuff." Jimmy hugged me tight and whispered to me, "Just like you're supposed to. Just like who you are."