It was a promise she rarely made nowadays because she never knew when she would get the chance to get online again. But she had been feeling lucky yesterday, and foolishly gave the promise to someone who asked her when she’d be back.

Back to The Game, spending a meager hour talking to the people she considered friends. Denise tried to make her online sprees a habit, but her father looked down on it. He was picky with her habits, as fathers are often apt to be, and that meant she’d never be able to accomplish what she set out to do.

The Game appeared in Denise’s life during the last months of 2017. Essentially, it was the birthplace of her ill-gotten freedom. And it all happened in an order so simple and understandable that it could’ve been her father’s Trader Joe’s grocery list.

What happened first was the computer; a birthday gift from her mother, and therefore something of immeasurable value to Denise. Victoriya Murphy had dropped in unexpectedly on Denise’s thirteenth birthday, on a Wednesday, August 12, at their Queens apartment, smelling of eye-watering jasmine perfume and oozing with such infectious cheer that Denise’s father reluctantly let her in.

Denise woke to her mother sitting by her bed, her mind’s lenses focusing on Victoriya chattering noisily to her father about her latest “adventures”, eyes crinkling at the corners as she laughed, brushing aside the blurry comments that Denise’s father made.

After the squealing and kissing, Victoriya assured her daughter that she would stay the night and urged Denise to unwrap her presents.

Though there wasn’t much to unwrap, the thrill of having her mother there had overpowered most of her feelings that day. After Denise took out the small book of poems her father had written for her, Victoriya pushed a hand-wrapped silvery papered box onto her lap.

“Open it, honey.” The excitement was palpable in Victoriya’s voice as Denise slid another box out of the silver wrapped one, eventually taking out a gleaming silver computer, gleaming like the moon amidst the shards of paper.

There was immediate complaint.

“I told you it was too early for that, Vic.” Her father admonished out of a tight lipped mouth.

“Everything’s too early for you, Paul. Too much, too loud and too early. It might hurt you to know it, but you can’t control everyone in your life.” Victoriya retorted.

Denise only had one ear listening as she peered into the computer’s empty black screen. Arguments like these happened all the time when her mother was around. But it didn’t matter because she had finally gotten a device. An electronic device.

It wasn’t a smart phone, as she had always wanted, but it was good enough. Besides, she already had a phone, even if it was a signal phone only, mainly used for calling her dad and communicating at school. Nothing highly advanced, really. But now she had both things she ever wanted to finalize her ascent onto the golden steps of actual teen hood.

The morning after, Denise saw no trace of her mother, only a strong whiff of jasmine perfume. This was normal.

After the divorce of Paul Lieu and Victoriya Murphy ten years ago, Victoriya had refused custody of Denise, who was only three at the time. Victoriya complained that having a baby would interfere with her business. Denise’s father kept her when Victoriya left Queens, and Denise learned to get used to her mother not being around. But at the times Victoriya was there, Denise savored every moment because she knew her mother always left earlier than expected.

So when her father said that Victoriya got a call that morning and had to go, Denise merely nodded in understanding and returned to her computer, practicing her password, again and again.

Vè ðep. It meant ‘beautiful’ in Vietnamese and could also be said as sâc ðep. But since phonetic spelling was useless and time draining in a password, it was merely spelled as vedep. That was the password her mother had set in the computer, and it was one of the few Vietnamese phrases she knew, among Hello, Goodbye and I love you.

Soon after Denise got the computer, the second thing that happened was Worldcraft: World of Cubes.

Though Denise had a good number of friends at school, she didn’t fit in much with the puzzling activities Lia, Belle and Dafne enjoyed. Denise had never understood the point of scrounging thrift shops for the “perfect vintage clothes” and the innumerable selfie photo-shoots that Lia hosted in her apartment, featuring a perfect nook of sunset glow in the corner of her bedroom that never failed to make the girls’ eyes look like honey.

And although Lia, Belle and Dafne had maintained a friendship with Denise since 4th grade, they felt the same way about Denise. The girls never understood Denise’s obsession for Minecraft. They indulged her when she raved about her pixelated creations, but when it came to actual interactions between them, Denise did her own thing and the girls did theirs. Friendship was placed neatly in between.

Denise had only played Minecraft a precious few times. The first time was during the month-long summer vacation her father sent her on to his family in Virginia, during 2016.

A favorite cousin of hers, Mark Lieu, happened to have the game on his iPad. Being one of the more generous cousins, he allowed her to play on his device, and ever since he allowed Denise—who was then twelve—to try it, she was forever grateful to him for letting her in on what seemed like the coolest discovery of her life.

Ever since that visit, she had never been able to play as often as she did in Virginia, snapping up the chance mostly at app stores, or on friend’s devices. But she never was able to buy the app for herself. Which was the primary reason she started browsing for a free substitute for Minecraft. Because in Queens, no phone, no Minecraft.