Atomic: Rebooted

27. Festival

CLAIRE

The Festival had grown since the last time I'd gone, which was probably around freshman year, and Dad had to coax me to come out. Ever since, he mainly went with Holly and I was happy to stay home and let the old people go on their dates. They did come few and between with each other's work schedules.

The entire park was filled with tents between bushes of snow-covered roses, vending hot chocolate and games and various treats and toys for children. It all wound itself in a spiral labyrinth to the center of it all— a massive skating rink for all ages.

We immediately made a beeline for the skating rink.

"You're still a size eight, right?" Tristan asked as we waited in line to rent a pair.

"You remembered," I said. "It's been a few years, so I might be a little rusty. I thought you would've forgotten."

"It's alright, I'll keep you upright," he promised, slipping his hand into mine.

My first instinct was to pull away, to tell him to keep his hands to himself, but I forced myself to relax. It was just platonic, that was all. I was the only one taking this seriously.

I didn't mind it when he helped me unlace my combat boots and lace-up the ice skates— even if that was something I could do myself, and a stubborn part of me wanted to resist such things.

I was uneasy and unstable when I first stepped onto the ice, but it all came back to me, like riding a bike or driving a car. Tristan, however, was literally skating circles around me as I gained my footing.

"Need some help?" He asked, coming to an elegant stop a few feet before me as I struggled along.

My face turned red— well, redder, given the cold. "I think I can handle this."

"Ah, come on, it's different with a partner," Tristan said, offering a hand to me. "It's more fun."

I hesitated— I didn't know why I was being so stubborn.

Stop it, I told myself, as I accepted his hand. You're here to have a good time, and you will have it.

He immediately started skating backwards, a smirk on his face as he pulled me around the rink. My braids and skirt flew behind me, rippling in the velocity of our motion.

I even felt myself smiling, in spite of the fact that I hated the popular music playing in the background because I'd heard that song approximately five million times in the last three months and I was scared I would crash into someone or something, or that I'd lose my balance and Tristan would be forced to let go.

There was something beautiful and exhilarating about being pulled along on skates at increasingly high speeds. It was like the free-fall through the monorail without the bodies crammed into the space past me, without the wind being knocked out of my lungs afterwards. Just the pure adrenaline and the joy of being alive with everything in perfectly sharp, crystal clarity.

It was the kind of thing you'd see in a Hallmark movie or a rom-com, where no words were needed, where it was just one of those perfect moments, the kind people spend their whole lives trying to recreate.

Of course, I was the one to ruin it.

As more kids got on the rink, Tristan decided it would be best to slow down, but I, being the big klutz that I was, didn't catch on, didn't brake, and I ended up crashing into him.

"Are you okay?" I instantly asked, sitting up.

He just laughed. "I'm fine— I took worse tumbles than that. We should get off the ice, though, maybe do something else."

"Yeah, maybe," I agreed as I got to my feet and helped him up. "Still, sorry about that."

"It's okay." Tristan winked. "It's gonna take a lot more than you to take me down."

I snorted, even though I wasn't sure why I found that funny.

We returned our ice skates, and took a moment to decide what to do next.

"I think there's this vendor that's returning from last year, they made the best hot chocolate." Tristan grinned. "What do you say we seek them out?"

"Sounds like a good idea," I agreed, fiddling with the strap of my messenger bag. I checked briefly to make sure everything was there— wallets, tampons, and super suit were all present and accounted for.

We then continued on our merry way to the mythic vendor of the best hot chocolate in all of the winter festival.

Holding hands as the snow started down all around us, it was still Hallmark-perfect. But it wouldn't last.

Tristan opened his mouth, about to talk to me when an explosion went off over our heads, setting some of the tents on fire and one of the benches flying.

In the blink of an eye, Tristan had tackled me into the snow, using his body to shield me as the fire passed overhead.

Then, when the immediate danger was over, he grabbed my hand, and we started to run out of the park— I just blindly followed, not even thinking about my super suit until we had left the gates of Stephens Park.

I glanced over my shoulder as we did, seeing the mob of people fleeing in the rush to escape none other than Tenebrous, floating in the sky on some kind of hoverboard. I could see the villain Black Phoenix setting the tents on fire, and Menlo firing her ray-gun at passerby.

Once we were out in the streets, I looked around frantically— we hadn't had telephone booths in a long time.

Where to change?

Oh, the questions I wanted Renegade there to answer in that moment. I locked eyes on a coffee shop facing the park.

I started off, when Tristan grabbed my arm.

"Where are you going?" He glanced around frantically.

"Bathroom," I lied, placing my hand on his. "I'll meet you back here."

"Okay." His voice was so small, so quiet as he let go.

"I'll be okay, I'll come back," I promised.

Then with that, I turned and ran. I knew what I had to do— the time had come for Psyche to return.