“Think of this semester as the beta test for the club,” she said. “Today we can figure out how we want to organize, what the teams will be, and what game you’ll play. Does anyone have a suggestion?”

The new kid, Nathan, raised his hand. “Can we pick a game rated M?”

Play an M-rated game in school? Emma thought. It was the kind of question only a new kid would ask. The district web filter would never permit it. She expected Ms. B to shoot the idea down.

But Ms. B said, “Which one?”

“The Good War!” Tyler blurted before anyone else had time to react.

“Yeah!” Crosby agreed with a fist pump.

The Good War was one of the hottest games out. Emma had played it several times. It was easy to learn and the action was fast-paced and fun. But it was rated M for violence and animated blood.

“So is that okay, Ms. B?” Tyler asked hopefully.

Not in a million years, Emma thought. And yet the others seemed to be holding their breaths while Ms. B googled some reviews of the game.

Waiting for the inevitable “no way,” Emma watched Nathan press his lips together and slide down in his chair. She got the feeling that TGW wasn’t the game he’d wanted to suggest when he’d asked about the M rating. But being new at school, he probably thought it best not to argue. He was a nice-looking boy with longish brown hair and a thin, straight nose. He held himself erect when he walked, like a soldier marching.

Meanwhile, at her desk, Ms. B appeared to be lost in thought. Then she nodded. “It doesn’t sound like anything you probably haven’t played before. So yes, why not?”

“What about the district web filter?” Emma asked.

“This is a club, not school,” Ms. B said.

“All right!” Tyler and Crosby cheered in unison and high-fived. Emma was truly amazed.

Next they discussed the format of play and settled on nine rounds per match, with the first team to win five rounds considered that day’s winner. The same would go for the semester. They’d meet for nine weeks. The first team to win five matches would be the semester champions.

Just then, Emma felt something press against her thigh. She looked down. Caleb was slipping her a note…made of paper. How retro! she thought as she unfolded it. On it Caleb had written: NOT ME. YOU.

Huh? Emma had no idea what that meant. She scowled at him. Caleb nodded back as if the answer would be clear soon enough.

When Ms. B suggested that they choose captains, Crosby said, “Gavin.”

Gavin’s forehead bunched doubtfully, but Tyler and Mackenzie gave thumbs up to show they agreed. Next, Ms. B turned to Emma and Caleb’s end of the table. Now Emma understood the note Caleb had given her. He wanted her to be the captain of their side. But how could he already know what the teams would be? And when had she ever been the captain of anything?