25

Sixteen Years Old

I SEE ATLAS AND Moriah at lunch. Not that I sit with them. But I see them across the room, watching something on Moriah's phone. Laughing. Leaning their heads together.

I look away, unable to take the strain it puts on my heart.

I haven't spoken to Atlas in days. He hasn't tried to call or text me, either. I don't need to hear from him every day, but this isn't usually us.

It's gotten worse the longer he's been dating Moriah.

After the dance two years ago, they started hanging out more without me. I knew what it meant. I knew I'd lost him.

And honestly, I've coped with that. I've been able to accept that he didn't have feelings for me. But Moriah grew colder towards me, trying to keep me at a distance. I didn't understand then, and I still don't understand, when she's the one who was hurting me all along.

Atlas still hangs out with me when he can, or talks to me in the hallway. But for the past few days, I've not heard anything.

Not even his usual goodnight texts.

I take a bite of my sandwich, trying to keep my attention away from everything I'm losing.

Even if he isn't mine, I love him. All I want is to have my best friend back.

"Is this seat taken?"

I look up to see Milo Pierce. We share a couple of classes, but other than that, I've never really spoken to him. His chestnut hair falls a little into his eyes, which are a warm brown. He's dressed in all dark clothes, which lends to his reputation.

I watch him carefully. "No, go ahead."

Everyone refers to him as a troublemaker or rebellious. I've never paid enough attention to him to really know anything about his reputation, other than hearing the whispers in the hallway. He's somewhat of an outcast, despite many of the girls having secret crushes on him.Some say he deals drugs. Some say he's done time in prison. I don't like rumors, so I never listen.

He sits across from me, setting his lunch down. "I've noticed you've been sitting alone for the better part of the month," he says. "Not that it's any of my business, but people know you've been cast aside since your two best friends started dating each other." He jerks his chin over to where Moriah and Atlas are sitting.

I shrug. "That's life, isn't it?"

"It doesn't have to be." He sighs. "I'm amazed you didn't try to stop it."

I lean back. "No offense, Milo, but I don't really know you. So how is it you know all these things about me?"

He doesn't seem offended or even bothered by this question. "I happen to notice when other loners pass through the halls. People here avoid me because most of them took one look at me when I moved into town, heard a twisted story about my past, and decided I'm not someone to get to know. But you… you were never a loner until those two started getting closer. Now I've seen you striking out on your own."

He takes a spoonful of what appears to be soup he brought from home.

"Honestly, it's a little jarring for you to be observing me this much," I tell him.

He shrugs. "I observe everyone. I have time to watch things when no one talks to me."

"And so you decided you wanted to talk to me in person and see if all your theories are correct?"

"No. You looked lonely and I thought it might be nice to keep you company. Because I know what it feels like to be pushed out of your friend group when two of the friends start getting romantically involved."

I frown. "Well… thank you. I'm sorry if I came off harsh. I'm just… frustrated."

"You're also in love with Atlas Jameson."

I nearly choke on my sandwich. "What?"

Milo laughs, and the sound is surprisingly warm, one that invites me to laugh with him. Except I'm too busy being embarrassed to join him in the revelry.

He leans back in his seat. "That one was made up, but based on your reaction, I can assume I struck a nerve."

"No. That's not it. Atlas has been my best friend since we were young. The idea that I would be in love with him is strange."

I can try to cover it up, right? Milo doesn't know everything. I can gain the upper hand here.

He crosses his arms. "Look, if you haven't noticed, I don't have friends. Your secret's safe with me. I won't bring it up again unless you want it brought up."

"No."

"Isn't this weather quite nice?" He grins and then takes another spoonful of soup.

Milo is a mystery. A sixteen-year-old guy who can see through everyone's deepest thoughts and secrets, who comes to join lonely people for lunch just because they look sad. Yet he'll switch topics the moment things start getting uncomfortable for the other person. What is his game?

I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. "Since you're seeing through everything, I want to ask something."

"What's that?"

"Why do you have a reputation for being a bad guy?"

He laughs. "Is that what my reputation is?"

"I have a hard time believing you don't know, considering you seem to know everything about everyone else. You must be self-aware."

He smirks, and it's almost cute. Almost. "How observant. Well, truthfully, the reputation came from my old school. I stood up for a kid who was being bullied. But the principal's niece was there and because I had turned her down for the dance, she decided to embellish the story so I'd get in trouble. But then something else happened."

"And that something was?"

"I might've been arrested for getting into a fight with the bully the next day when I saw him doing something else that was just as bad. Things got pretty physical, and even though he started it, they saw me as the person who instigated the whole thing because I was the one who threw the first punch."

"You don't seem like the type to fight," I say. Because he doesn't. He's far too logical for that. At least, that's how he seems.

"I'm not usually. But the guy was screaming at his girlfriend in the hallway and I went up and told him to cut it out. He swung the first couple of times. I fought back to defend myself. Except he ended up with a broken nose because when he went to hit me, he tripped and fell face first into the lockers. He was fine, but his parents would not stop fighting to get me out of school. The police agreed it was self-defense after watching the footage, but by that point, the story had gotten twisted."

He grimaces, as if this is painful for him to talk about. I had heard the whispers in the girls' bathroom or in the hallway about him beating someone up. But I never knew how much truth there was to the rumors.

"I only fight to protect the innocent," he says. "But you don't have to worry. My fighting days are over."

The story is jarring, but not many people are so candid about being arrested. Milo doesn't seem bothered by this detail of his past. He eats his soup, unperturbed that he's told me the real reason behind his reputation. Maybe it's because it was so long ago. I admire that he doesn't let his past define his present.

At this moment, I realize that I don't feel as lonely as I did before he sat here. For a change, I'm not thinking about Atlas and Moriah. I glance over one more time. They're lost in conversation, heads bent close. No care for the world around them.

I look back to Milo. "I'm sorry I judged you without knowing you," I say.

He shrugs, but a small smile plays on his lips. "I'm used to people making up their minds about me, but I'm not used to being apologized to, so that's refreshing."

For the next while, we eat our lunches and chat. Milo listens to me go on and on about my interests and I listen to his. It's easy, and we almost get too caught up in conversation to remember to get to class.

When we both rise from the table, I catch Atlas's eye. He looks concerned. I look away.

I'm not going to explain myself to him.

He left me to my own devices. I'm allowed to make new friends.