Atomic Rebooted

11. North Kingsbury

CLAIRE

I groaned as I hit the off-button on my alarm clock. I opened my eyes and was careful as I sat up. I'd banged my head way too many times on the ceiling to repeat that mistake again.

I sat there a moment, trying to recall my dreams— but there were only a few fleeting images, of trams and of vigilantes that remained in my memory come morning.

Chalking it up to only a few hours of sleep, I sighed and got to my feet. It was time to start the day and there was no use in dilly-dallying. Especially since I had no idea how I'd be getting to school now that the monorail was down.

I headed over to the closet set-up and pulled a t-shirt dress off of the rack without hesitation. It was comfy, and with a few layering techniques would work even in the icy Montana weather.

So I went for a white long-sleeved shirt and some black leggings underneath.

I was suddenly relieved that Holly insisted I have at least a few pairs of pants and leggings that didn't have rips on them. I didn't want everyone to see the giant scabs on my knees and know immediately what had happened.

Things were going to be awkward enough with my face on the news as Renegade and Heretic's latest hostage.

I knew exactly what was in store for me because I remember how everyone treated me when Mom died. How others pushed me away because we were all kids and no one knew how to deal with grief and loss.

And to be fair— it shouldn't have had to be that way.

But the same kind of pushing away would happen to me today, where people would whisper their pity and sympathy, but wouldn't actually talk o me except for syrupy remarks about how I was so brave, so strong.

Even though I hadn't been some brave, feisty captive. Yeah, I'd said a few sarcastic things— but for the most part I kept my mouth shut because I wanted to live. The thing is, I was afraid to die by Heretic's hand, or by the tram.

Everyone would expect some story about how I tried to save others from the tram or from Renegade and Heretic, and that that was why I tried to fight him. Never mind the truth that was honestly embarrassing the more I thought about it, how I tried to run, how I tried to save myself before thinking of anyone else.

Suddenly, I wasn't feeling so good about returning to school that day.

I sat down as I laced up my favorite white Doc Martens— I supposed I'd regret it later, as they were definitely more dressy, but they were fairly good at keeping slush out of my boots.

At least today was Friday, so I'd get a weekend for something else super-related to happen, and no one would care about little ol' me all that much.

I ran a brush through my hair— I was trying to be gentle with the shampoo, as I wanted to keep in the teal streaks in my lowlights. They were put in to be easily concealable for esports tournaments and other events where I was expected to look respectable. But during school I let them fly free— they were cute, and not a color most girls immediately reached for when dying their hair.

I thought about messing around with jewelry or a fun necklace, before deciding on a black velvet choker with a little silver moon pendant hanging from it, to contrast with the white sun design on my t-shirt dress. Well, and of course, my watch.

I liked to keep it simple, after all.

With my messenger bag strapped over my shoulder, I headed downstairs. I glanced out the window— Dad and Julien's cars had already gone.

When I entered the kitchen, there was a stack of a few chocolate chip pancakes sitting on a plate. Holly was mixing a juice for herself, so I just silently went to eat them. I wasn't one for butter or syrup. Julien liked to declare me 'a psychopath' for how I preferred my pancakes plain— especially chocolate chip ones.