Shallow Imitations

chapter twenty-one

All it takes is a few weeks for things to change. When I walk in class, I stand there for a second, looking for him. He's always in the back, scribbling something into a black, Moleskin notebook. I know it's not for class because of how engaged he is.

Atlas doesn't notice when I take the seat next to him. I can hear the sound of music blaring from his earphones, but it's only audible if you notice it. The class begins and finishes, and he's still writing something. I'm racking my brain wondering what he could be writing this whole time. When the teacher glances over him, he smiles thinking that Atlas is writing notes. Every once in a while, he looks up and meets the teacher's eyes, as if letting him know that he's listening.

I spend the next thirty minutes trying not to make it evident that I'm staring at him. It's fruitless. He has no idea I'm here. Maybe it's because he's not used to people staring at him. He's always been here, in the back. Despite his lack of focus during class, he still gets the highest grades. It seemed like he wasn't trying, but I can see a stack of books that he borrowed from the library. There's something for every subject. He's reading something about writing for English class and a book that overs American History.

I guess what's taught here just isn't sufficient enough for him.

I don't know what's gotten to me. When the class is dismissed, I spend too long packing my things, waiting for him to walk out first. I'm pretending to be texting someone as I follow him down the hall. He finds a nice corner and sits on the floor, increasing the volume of the music he's listening to and then continuing to write something down.

Why am I so nervous all of a sudden?

He doesn't seem like the shy type. Atlas gives you the impression that he doesn't need any company, that someone coming up to him is more of a burden. He's always immersed in something. Whenever he's doing something, he focuses all his senses there. He doesn't look up when he sees me approach and then slowly pass by him. He doesn't even blink.

I sigh and keep walking, knowing I have to meet my friends for lunch.

As I sit there, I'm half listening to them talking about a test and half thinking about Atlas, wondering what he's doing right now. He doesn't have to endure any of this, sitting and pretending to be interested in this girl whose name I can't remember goes on and on about a party. Olive and Wren are excited. I'm mentally writing down a list of excuses of why I can't come. However, the trick only works if I pretend to be excited now and bummed later when Eleonora 'tells' me that I can't go.

Olive taps my shoulder. "You're coming, right? It'll be fun."

My first thought is wondering if Atlas would be there. He doesn't seem like the party type. I don't know him enough to tell. Maybe I should ask.

Or not.

I smile for added effect. "Of course! Sounds great."

Olive starts planning what outfit she's gonna wear. A dress or a nice shirt. She can't decide if she's going for casual or a more formal look. Olive doesn't even like this kind of things, but she's always trying to be out there and do things. She'll probably drink a little and talk to the girls all night. They probably will have fun, but I'm not sure how I can do that right now.

"I need to go to the restroom," I tell Olive, grabbing my bag and walking out.

I feel pathetic as I circle around the school, stopping where I last saw Atlas. Of course he's not still sitting there. He probably went inside to eat or back to the library.

"Luna."

I turn around slowly.

Here he is, standing there with a smile on his face. He knows I've been looking for him. He probably noticed me earlier when I was standing here like an idiot and when I was watching him in class. Why didn't I think of that? There's no way he didn't see two eyeballs focused on him all day, stalking him.