Chapter 6
The familiar hustle and bustle of the warehouse that’s home to the Twin Cities Robotics society sinks into me like a soothing balm as I make my way over to the twelve-pound hobbyweight arenas, fights already in progress.
I didn’t get the job I applied for at the university, nor the one at the engineering firm, nor the one at the other engineering firm.
I don’t know what I’ll do now. There’s a technical writing position open, but that kind of work is soul-crushing.
The bills are piling up, though; it doesn’t matter if my soul is crushed as long as we have a place to sleep and food on the table.
And then there’s Ava. It’s not like I didn’t see it coming.
She started asking us to use “she/her” pronouns at home, to try out last year.
Now she wants to change her name not just at home, but at school, too.
I’ll happily support her no matter what, but I’m worried.
She’s already having a hard time with bullies.
I love her, and I’ll do anything in my power to make sure she’s happy, protected, and thriving.
I need to call the school and see if her doctor has any resources on puberty blockers.
I shake my head and set a mental reminder to think about that tomorrow. It’s been a long day. Tonight, I want to enjoy myself. I’m excited to watch things get smashed to pieces, as well as see some familiar faces. One in particular.
I can’t believe he’s back. Everyone expected him to stay at JPL after grad school or go somewhere else equally impressive. I heard a rumor that he was offered a position. Who would leave the Jet Propulsion Lab? But lo-and-behold, Jacob is back.
I was hoping we could stay in touch when he left for California, but neither of us reached out. I was always waiting for him. Perhaps he was waiting for me. Then it felt too late, too weird, and suddenly five years passed. I missed him, though.
I’m not fighting tonight, but he is. The first time he’s fought on home field since he left. I can’t wait to see it. He was always a bright spot in my day, and on a day like today, I need the sunshine. Giddiness bubbles through my veins like a glass of champagne, sweet and intoxicating.
I see his name on the display above one of the arenas and squirm my way through the unusually big crowd spilling out of the stands. I find a good vantage point to watch the fight, and I get a good look at him for the first time in years.
His fading tan still glows, and his hair is longer, black waves frothing deliciously. There’s no teenage awkwardness left in his body. One of the taller people in the room, he’s now balanced, filled out with gentle muscles and strong features. Still beautiful, even from a distance.
Some nights I still think about him. About all the times I thought we might be something.
The warmth he gave me when everything in my life felt so cold.
In the years since, it’s been impossible to forget what he meant to me when all I’ve felt is his absence.
No matter whom I’ve tried to fill that Jacob-shaped hole with, it’s never the same.
He’s fighting his new hobbyweight bot tonight. The ten-pound bot is a vertical spinner, painted in an electric shade of yellow. Since he was on Circuit Smack last year with the Caltech team, there have been rumors that he’s starting his own team. Maybe there will be a place there for me.
“FIGHT!”
Jacob’s bot takes off almost faster than I can blink and certainly faster than the other robot.
His weapon whirs to life, filling the arena with the sound of a million angry bees.
The rival bot narrowly swerves out of his way.
Jacob’s bot turns on a dime. His building and driving skills are better than ever, and it shows.
“Jacob Moore, back from the West Coast to give us more, more, more!” the announcer shouts.
Jacob and his opponent dance around each other, narrowly avoiding hits. Sometimes it isn’t even the big hits that are thrilling; it’s the misses when the hit could have been fatal.
I cheer loudly as Jacob lands a hit on his rival, sending an armor panel flying. His eyes flick up to mine. Even from here, I can see his eyes widen, and his jaw slacken. The muscle memory of my heart kicks into gear, fluttering like he never left.
A loud crash pulls my eyes back to the arena as Jacob’s bot flies into the wall, hitting it perfectly to shatter into several pieces. The battery ricochets across the box like a bouncy ball.
“KNOCKOUT!”
“A disappointing match for former champion Jacob Moore. He no longer has that home field advantage, and it shows.” Okay, that’s rude.
Who the hell is announcing tonight? “Definitely a humbling end to his first match back. We can only hope he’s back to his old self soon.
” He drove great. What the fuck is that guy’s problem? This could have happened to anyone.
I chew on my lip as a chill envelopes Jacob’s features, eyes still locked on mine.
I didn’t distract him, did I? He wipes it away quickly to congratulate the winner and greet the people waiting to get his attention now that the match is over.
He may have lost, but so many people still look up to him. I still look up to him.
I wait for him by the entrance to the workstations. After a few minutes, he walks by, carrying the wreckage of his robot in his hands. Examining it with a furrowed brow.
I swallow my nerves and push off the wall, waving at him. “Jacob, hey!”
He stops dead in his tracks when he sees me. His brow doesn’t tense, but his eyes flash with something I’ve never seen from him. Is that anger?
It must be a trick of the light. Why would he be angry at me? I step towards him. “It’s so good to see you,” I say.
He takes a step back. “Mari.”
It’s my turn to freeze. The coldness in his voice is a hostile alien, shrinking my insides. “You’re back.” I try to smile.
“I am.” His dispassionate voice is like the lights going out on a sunny Tuesday afternoon. Confusing, worrying, and without reason. Maybe I shouldn’t have expected him to be excited to see me, but this? I couldn’t have imagined this.
“That was a great fight. Is that the same design you were running in California?”
“I lost,” he says flatly.
My skin tingles, a chill running through me. “Happens to the best of us sometimes.” I can’t stop a nervous laugh. He stares at me like I have two heads. “I was hoping we could get together soon and—”
“No.”
“—maybe catch up,” I finish before his single word makes sense to me. No?
“I don’t have time for—” he pauses for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Anyone unfamiliar with him wouldn’t have caught it. “—distractions.”
He can’t be that upset he lost, right? It’s not that big of a deal. I’m underwater with only my sinking sense of dread giving me an idea of which direction I’m facing. “Oh, okay. I-I just wanted to say hi.” I smile weakly at him. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”
He turns and walks away without another word or glance. I stumble backward, leaning against the wall as I question everything I thought I knew about him. And about us.