In Case of Rejection

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was strange, stopping off at the Arcade two days in a row, especially Matthew had skipped school the whole day through. He had false memories trying to fill in the blanks for him -- the feeling that he had walked the halls that day, when he hadn't.

He couldn't stop his mind from turning, mulling over everything he had learned and trying to keep it at the forefront of his mind so as not to forget it. He was rehearsing what he would tell the group in his head as they walked. They all looked at him as they went, casting flickering glances in his direction, then looking off like they hadn't been.

Now that they were sitting, he couldn't help but fidget. He felt like his insides were itching, like he needed to move. He imagined how good it would feel to sprint out of the Arcade and break through the crowds on Main Street, like he had just a week ago. The wind of his face, the exciting feeling of urgency...

"Matthew," Olive snapped him out of his trance, and Matthew startled awake. He was met by the noisy chatter and Meng's big brown eyes, staring at him from across the table. She looked paler than usual, and Matthew felt a shred of guilt, immediately followed by annoyance.

"What happened, why weren't you at school?" Olive asked from his side, putting a warm, encouraging hand around his forearm. Despite his rehearsing, he was struggling to find the words to describe it all. He wondered if somehow the Bots were watching him, waiting for him to start talking about his father. He wondered if there was anyone just beyond surveilling. Listening. Even in the rush of the Arcade, packed with students and their exuberant conversations, he felt like he was being targeted. Now, in one of the places where he felt most comfortable, he couldn't escape. 

"I woke up late, but-" he stopped, almost mechanically, like he had forgotten how to speak. He struggled, closing his mouth abruptly. Olive's grip tightened around his arm, and she faced him more directly, shifting in his seat. Dusty watched them closely, fear making his eyes wide, sweat beading on his forehead. Matthew bit his lip in the silence, unknowing what it would mean for any of them if they knew. It wasn't like it was a secret, it was broadcast on national television. But.

"Can I talk to you in private?" Matthew asked, turning to Olive. Jason sighed, sitting back in the booth heavily. Dusty's shoulders rolled back, not in Jason's bothered way, but like he was relieved not to be a part of it.

"Yeah," Olive nodded, and the pair stood to leave the booth, when Dusty reached out to Matthew, a hand stopping over his chest. Matthew looked down to his paled expression, and noticed the way he swallowed before he started speaking.

"I hope you're okay, Matthew," he said, slowly, like he was picking out the words as he went along. Matthew reached out and patted Dusty's shoulder, twice, as reassuring as he could, then turned away to the rest of the room.

Matthew pulled Olive towards the driving simulation games, where the noise was loudest, with the little kids shrieking and the sounds of tires screeching.

"What is it?" Olive asked. He hadn't seen her smile all day, and he felt a thread of sadness pull upward through his chest. He didn't know how to lighten the words, all the same.

"My Dad came home this morning," he said, and Olive's face fell. Not into complete despair, as Matthew hoped it wouldn't, but she looked down at her feet like she was thinking. She wrinkled her brow as she stared at the floor, searching the inside of her head for any answers.

"So, he's still there now?" She asked, and Matthew nodded, suddenly wondering if this was even true.

"I think so. He was there when I left," Matthew said. Olive gave him a knowing glance, doing a quick look over her shoulder, in the direction of the Bots in the far right corner. Their lights were vacant and gray, and she turned back to her friend.

"How was he?" She asked. Matthew didn't know what to do besides shrug.

"I don't know. I could tell you more, but we shouldn't talk here," he said. Olive nodded, tilting her neck slightly to crack it. Matthew watched Olive's expression change as she looked around the Arcade again, scanning the room in a way that indicated she was looking for somewhere to go. She didn't look very well -- since Fran's disappearance her eyes had formed dark circles around them, and her hands trembled, just barely. She looked nervous and sad on the outside, and Matthew imagined she felt worse inwardly.

"Are you alright?" He asked her, and she just shrugged.

"I don't know. I'm here though, aren't I?" She asked. Matthew wanted to reach out to her, offer her any consolation he could, but she looked away from him, shoulders turning like she was going back to the booth.

"Do you want to go home?" She returned to him, observing his face closely for any cues. He couldn't think of what else he could really do there, so he nodded.

"You're going?" Jason asked incredulously as the pair grabbed their things from the side. Dusty didn't say anything. Matthew knew he understood.

"Yeah, it's just not the right time," Matthew said, the words stumbling out. They hardly made sense to him either.

"There's nothing you have to tell us?" Jason asked, the frustration climbing up through his words. Matthew's head swam with all of the commotion, and for a moment he straightened up to focus.

"Actually," Matthew said as he slid into the booth again. He had the attention of everyone there, and for a moment, he felt powerful.

"I have a bad feeling about everything," Matthew started, keeping his tone low so that the others had to lean in to listen. Jason scoffed.

"You always have-"

"Shut up, Jason," Meng hissed, hitting her boyfriend in the shoulder. Matthew looked between the both of them awkwardly. He cleared his throat.

"If anything goes wrong in the next few weeks -- anything at all, any broadcasts, any big changes," Matthew stopped, looking at their expectant faces.

"We meet here," Matthew finished, and Dusty sat back again with a nod. No questions asked.

"Here? At the Arcade?" Jason affirmed, and Meng nodded in Matthew's direction.

"Why?" He asked. He slanted his eyebrows in suspicion, looking at Matthew like he was hiding something from them.

"It'll be somewhere we can hide," Matthew said, unsure why all these big, doom and gloom ideas were coming to mind. The fact of the matter was, the ideas were there, and that was something in and of itself. Somewhere deep inside, something felt wrong, and Matthew decided he needed to have a plan.