“But MOC West has been sold out for months. I know. I tried.” Payton’s green eyes were wide. Among all of us, they were probably the only one of us who could easily afford the high price of admission for the fan convention taking place in Vegas next month. Giant in scope, it rivaled the largest of the Comic Cons in popularity. Better yet, not only was it a showcase for the game, but also a huge tournament for players, with prize money and even seats on the pro tour up for grabs.

A spot on the pro tour could be life-changing.

“I know. But my contact at Odyssey Games said they’re really impressed with what our channel is doing. They want us to come—me to sit on some panels and make fan appearances, and you guys to play in the tournament. Then we’ll do a recap video about our experiences afterward.”

“Wow.” I whistled low, visions of an invitation to the pro tour and the end of my money worries dancing in my head.

“All we have to do is get there.” Professor Tuttle nodded so enthusiastically that his unruly white-gray hair bounced.

And hell. Just like that, my vision went poof, lost in a cloud of reality. “You mean we have to cover airfare?”

“Well, yes, travel expenses are ours, as are meals and—”

“Not a problem.” Payton already had their phone out and was clicking away, probably telling their trust-fund manager that they needed a boost of cash.

“For you, maybe,” I grumbled, already digging my duffel out from under the table. Time for me to get going. That ticket might be my one last decent hope of digging my way out of the hole my life had become, but the cost of airfare wasn’t even remotely within my pitiful budget, and I needed to escape the excitement of the others before my disappointment ruined their fun.

“Slow down now, Conrad.” Professor Tuttle could do stern when he wanted to. I slumped back into my seat, bag in my lap. “I’ve got a travel plan for those of us with more…challenges to face.”

More like those of us with nonexistent bank balances, but I didn’t say anything. I’d worked hard to make sure that as few people knew the extent of my situation as possible. The professor knew more than most, but no way did I want the rest to realize just how screwed I really was.

“I don’t fly.” Alden stared at the tickets as if they might hop up and bite him. I had to blink at that. In the couple of years that I’d hung around Alden and the rest of our play group, I’d never known him to be anything other than rigidly in control. Our perennial winner had a weak spot?