Atomic: Rebooted

24. Choices

CLAIRE

"I don't want to do this anymore." Tristan threw his head back, nearly tipping over the chair in the process. "I swear, you are the only partner I've ever had where we almost have the entire project done on the first night."

I shrugged as I clicked 'save' on the PowerPoint done up in the color scheme of Heretic's costume. "I frontload most of the time since esports takes up so much time."

"Liar," Tristan teased. "You weren't this bad, but you were just as much of a goody-goody when we were kids."

"Except in math," I reminded him. "God, I was terrible at it."

"Aw, you weren't terrible at it, you just needed it explained a different way." He shrugged. "I would know, I tutored you for years."

"Only because you needed help with your essays." I elbowed him lightly between the ribs. "Not that I hear you need much help with that now. You make speeches all the time for Student Government."

"Hey, that's not the same," he chided. "You know it was because I hadn't figured out how to work around my dyslexia yet."

"That's true." I sobered. "Sorry."

"No harm done." He smiled again. "God, it's been forever since we've gotten to just hang out like this."

"We didn't hang out, we did a school project."

"Quit being pedantic, Claire," he said in the tone of voice that implied that he really didn't mind. "I guess you do have a point, though— we should hang our for real, sometime. What even happened, why did we stop?"

"We went our separate ways." I shrugged. "I fell into esports and newspaper, and you went political and started dressing in all-black—"

"Well, that last part's more because it looks good on me," he teased.

Yet his expression gave me pause.

There was something frightfully intense about his dark eyes— there always was. Like he could see right through me, right into my soul.

It never made me uncomfortable, though.

It made me feel seen, but not in a way that made me feel vulnerable and exposed.

He made me feel alive and special.

"Well, I'm glad Mrs. Jennings forced us to be partners if we had to do one of her stupid emotionally vindictive projects," Tristan said. "It was about time the dynamic duo came back together again."

He held out his hand for a fist-bump, and so I obliged.

"It's late," I said. "Do you need company on the ride home— I can take the monorail back."

"It's alright," he said. "Besides, it's quicker than you think once most of the city is asleep."

"I suppose so."

Still, I realized that I didn't want this moment to end. Not yet.

"Hey," he said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We can talk during lunch, or history class— or even arrange another time to hang out like this. I shouldn't have shown up without asking, I am sorry about that."

"And your phone number's still the same, isn't it?" I asked earnestly.

"Afraid so." He reached down his phone and sent a quick text to me, confirming it. "I'll see you around, then."

"Wait," I said as he leaned down to put his boots back on. I felt shy, suddenly, standing there. Even though there was nothing to be shy about. "It's just— everything's been different since. . . And I just can't decide what to do when nothing's the same."