Reality? I'd give it a C-. That's what fifteen-year-old Judith Ellis thinks, anyway. Reality is her former best friend not talking to her this year. Reality is her dad living three thousand miles away. Reality is what happened outside 158 West Seventy-first Street, New York City. To Judith, fantasy rules. Particularly in the Game, which she plays online with a bunch of strangers she knows only as the Witch, the Drunken Warrior, and Irgan the Head Case. In the gaming world it's strictly alternative identities. No one knows who you are, no one gets too close. But one player in the Game is coming after her-and he's a lot closer than Judith guesses. Close enough to see her, close enough to talk with her. Close enough to like her.
by Mariah Fredericks
by Mark Twain
by Charles Dickens
by Frederick Douglass
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