In Case of Rejection

CHAPTER TWELVE

The uncertainty that was churning in Matthew's stomach was making him feel sick. It was the unearthing of too many years of painful memories. He was all too familiar with the way he was feeling. Where he figured he could live the rest of his life pushing them away, they were back with a vengeance. There was something so cruel about the way it was all right beside him again, breathing down his neck.

Matthew and Olive were up D Block now, passing onto C Block, leaning back into the dense crowds and the clamor of the street. The sounds were harsh against Matthew's system, and all he really wanted then was to go home and sleep.

Olive didn't speak, just walked alongside him. Neither of them did really, entirely because no one knew what to say. There wasn't anything to be discussed of the confusion and distress. It was almost like they knew their fate had been sealed. It was the beginning of some unknown end.

"I'm going to go upstairs," Olive told Matthew, once they reached his apartment.

"You're fine up there by yourself?" He asked. Olive nodded, tiredly, almost in a way that translated to annoyance. He wanted to be angry with her suddenly. Fight with her, for dragging him into that mess, then acting like he was being overbearing. She had it all backwards.

"Fine," Matthew said, and he stepped back into his apartment. Olive lingered there a moment in the doorway, then turned back towards the stairs.

Tuesday, the day of the nationwide broadcast, crept up on the community quietly. For Matthew, it felt like something horrible and inevitable was about to descend on Sector 18. Everyone in New America, for that matter, and he didn't know how to cope with it. He hated thinking that this Tuesday, he wouldn't set foot in Mike's Repair or receive a new letter from his father. He couldn't believe himself, but he knew he would miss seeing Stone.

Olive despaired into the next week, to the point where it scared Dusty. Tuesday afternoon, amidst their weekly excursion to the Arcade, he pulled Matthew aside to help him carry the concessions. The line was long, and Dusty insisted he was in the mood for company. He chose Matthew without a second thought.

"She's not racing today," he said, a clear veil of disturbance over his voice, even noticeable amidst the bustle of the place around them. His eyes were shifty, darting between Olive at their booth, Matthew, and the kids rushing around them. Matthew tried to shrug it off, turning to look out the window into the crowded street just outside.

"She's been acting funny for days. This doesn't bother you? You're closest to her," Dusty said all in one breath. Matthew shook his head like he was just as in the dark as Dusty.

"She's just having a rough week, I guess," Matthew said, a rush of adrenaline shooting through his veins. His eyes shot up to the clock on the far wall without him thinking, and the time read four-thirty. He would be on time, if he planned on going to Mike's Repair.  wave of sadness fell over him. Dusty tapped his foot at his side. A small kid rushed past them, and Matthew was pulled back into the Arcade. It was no place to sulk in peace.

"That's such a half-assed way of putting it," Dusty huffed, looking back to the booth again.

"Why are you so upset about it?" Matthew asked, looking ahead at the line, barely crawling ahead of them. Out of the corner of his eye, Matthew could see the Bots in the corner, glowing softly.

"I'm just concerned. She's my friend," Dusty said softly, a barely detectable hint of embarrassment laced through his words. He crossed his arms over his chest in a way that made Matthew want to laugh. He had a strange relationship with Dusty. They were not nearly as close as Matthew and Olive were, but he had always been there. He was Olive's friend first, but all through the years, they ended up in the same classes. Eventually, they all just stuck together, and now it seemed like there was no other way. Dusty straightened his back a little, reminding the world around him of how tall and strong he was.