Lovebirds

AMBROSE, DO YOU KNOW?

It is unclear as to whether or not it can be classified as peace exactly, but Spencer Sofia is definitely sitting in some sort of seventh heaven. For a moment, everything feels real again; everything feels simple and straightforward and understandable, as if a single night of rationalization cured her tumultuous mind. 

Mr. Davis sits at his desk, conversing with a few of his students about a recent development on something or other in the news while Spencer fiddles with her pen distractedly. So distracted is she in thoughts of being relieved a little from the background worry of the Instagram pictures, her thoughts of Vincent, of the homecoming dance she didn't attend (noting the whisper in her brain to look again at the anatomy of an eyeball and ear for AP Psyche), that she doesn't even realize Ambrose is there until his book falls a little too loudly on the desk.

"Sorry," he mutters in response to her ten foot jump.

She waves a dismissive hand, telling him it's fine. He still looks guilty.

"What?" She asks when he doesn't sit, still looking at her with sorry eyes.

"I um," he begins, slowly slipping into his seat as the five minute bell rings. "I heard about what's going on between you and Vincent Arthur."

"Oh." She looks away; back to her scribblings. There goes that peace.

"I'm sorry to bring it up— it's obviously not something you want to talk about— but I just wanted to make sure that—that it's not my fault that you two are... fighting."

"It's not your fault," she tells him. A half truth. A mostly truth... It's not his fault directly.

In thinking of the way she had felt that night, sitting beside Ambrose, tucked beneath his jacket in the gym, a wave of confusion swallows her again. She'd wanted nothing more than to sit beside Vincent—longed for him to kiss her, make the world spin again—but she'd sat. Next to Ambrose. Merely wondering why Vince had disappeared.

The word 'girlfriend' resumes its looping play in her head and she struggles to avoid a sour face.

"Okay," he accepts, mostly unconvinced. "Oh! I have something to give you."

"Ambrose," she pleads—

"—It's nothing like that. Here," handing her a small slip of paper from his back pocket. "Found this in my desk last period. I saw it was addressed to you and thought I'd better pass it along..." Then somewhat more sheepishly, "I wasn't sure if it was from Vincent or something."

She takes the note from him, all the chaos in her head quieting so suddenly that goosebumps rise on her skin. Please let it actually be from Vince.

Spencer Sofia,

If you still want to know who I am, the doors to the security room will be left open after school.

Wait until nobody's watching, then hit rewind.

I promise I'm going to fix this.

- vinceandspence

Spencer slips the piece of paper into her own desk, rereading as Mr. Davis announces that they'll be watching a few episodes of a National Geographic documentary.

As the projector flickers on and the lights are turned off, Spencer thinks. She wonders why the hacker would turn to Ambrose—Ambrose Holley, of all people, and, with only a fraction of her mind truly realizing what she's doing, she passes a note to the side.

Ambrose claims it; reads it; is confused by it, and he scribbles something brief on the bottom. Passes it back, and pretends not to watch her out of the corner of his eye as his posture gets suddenly stiff.

What do you know about the hacker?

And in Ambrose's hand merely—

What hacker?

The documentary says something about camouflage's importance in the process of evolution; smarter not stronger will succeed.

She flips the paper over and scribbles another message.

Ambrose accepts, this time not bothering to write back. He turns to her directly, a mix of determination and bewilderment blatantly claiming his features. 

"Is there anything I should know?" He whispers.

She shrugs, "I guess we'll find that out."

He pockets the paper, spending the rest of the class sending side-long glances in her direction.

She listens to a voice like David Attenborough's calmly explain the evolution of human life from Ardipithecus afarensis to Homo sapien in a single, summarizing timeline. A minute more and the details are explained, but her mind stays trained on the plan:

After school. The security room.

She, and Ambrose, and answers.