"Right. Anyway, where was I?" the teacher said. "Um, right. The assignment. So, basically, there are 64 chapters in the book. Basically, I don't care how you read it as long as you finish the book in two weeks, which should be easy enough since you'll also be reading in class. Then you'll get a few days to write a fifteen hundred word essay because that's the requirement. You can write about pretty much anything as long as it's school-appropriate and relates to the book. It can be a fan theory, or hating on someone, or even a Newtmas ship as long as you have proper evidence. If you get a bad grade (which, with me, is pretty unlikely) or just want extra credit, you can create a model of something from the book. It can be the Homestead, or the Maze, or even a Griever, but the more creative it is the more extra points you'll get. That sound good?"

Yeah, it did. It had been a long time since we had had freedom over what we wrote our essays about. Plus, the extra credit sounded pretty freaking nice, because God knows that some of us really needed it.

"And that's pretty much the entire thing," she said. "Obviously, the school won't let me just give you an essay, so I have to also hand out analogy sheets for you guys to fill out. But basically, this entire class will just be you guys reading the book, writing the essay, and, if you want, building your model for extra credit. Good? Good."

She gave us all a look like, Well? "Start reading!" she said. "You have half an hour left of class. You should be able to go through at least four chapters."

Oh, man. The entire class was practically guaranteed at least a B, which probably wasn't the best way of teaching, but hey; I wasn't complaining.

I leaned my chair back, balancing on two of the legs. Sailor had almost immediately opened her book, her eyes scanning the first few lines while I took my time to start reading.

He began his new life standing up, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air.

Metal ground against metal; a lurching shudder shook the floor beneath him. He fell down at the sudden movement and shuffled backwards on his hands and feet, drops of sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air...

•  •  •

"What do you want?"

Goddamnit, Damian, I screamed at myself. Why did you have to say that? Why? But now there was no way I could take it back, so I just kept my eyes on hers. Strangely, they had turned more hazel than green in the past few years. Her chocolate brown hair was cut choppily - by herself, I suspected - to a little past her shoulders, which was weird to me because she'd always had long hair.

"I -" She paused, chewing on her lips. "What do you mean?"

"What. Do. You. Want?" I pushed the words out, keeping them as unfriendly and harsh as possible.

"Damian, it's me! Sailor! I just wanted to be friends again."

"Leave me alone," I said, trying to soften my tone but it didn't work. "I don't need or want your friendship."

I could see the hurt in her eyes and I had to force myself to keep eye contact with her until she looked away. "Okay," she said, her voice so sad and defeated that it hurt to even look at her. "Sorry."

I turned away from her, ignoring the strange tightness in my chest. Of course I expected to see Sailor, but I didn't think it would be only a few days after we moved back.

Alec was sitting with her, along with another dark-skinned girl I didn't recognize. She must have moved here after I left or something like that and the girl leaned in to speak quietly to Sailor. She brushed the girl off and Alec tried to talk to her, but Sailor just gave me one more quick look and lowered her head quickly.

As soon as school was over, I grabbed my stuff and biked back home. Dad wasn't home yet, but Mom was. She had made some toast with fig jam spread over the crisp bread for me after I washed my hands and I smiled at her.

"Tell me about your day," she said softly. "Did you meet any new friends?"

I laughed to myself. Friends? I'd been hostile to everybody who had approached me. Nobody would want to be my friend, not after today. When I shook my head, Mom hesitated before saying, "Well, then did you meet any old friends?"

I nearly dropped my toast out of surprise but quickly caught it before it could touch the floor. The jam was smeared all over my fingers and I licked the stickiness off. She must have meant Sailor, but I said carefully, "No. I didn't see anyone I used to be friends with." I flashed her another smile and she returned it sadly, mostly because I knew she could tell I was lying.
"Anyway," I said after finishing my toast, "I'm going to go practice at the field." Mom nodded to show she understood and I left the house with my hands full of some old soccer equipment.

It was getting chilly outside, but despite the cold, I had a soccer ball cradled in my arms and a pair of cleats in my hand. No shinguards - I decided I didn't need them, considering I was planning on practicing by myself. It had been a long time since I'd gone to the old field I used to practice in, but my feet still knew exactly where to go.

My hood over my head, I didn't look up until I reached the edge of the field. It took me only a few minutes to walk to the broad field, the grass recently cut short. I spotted another figure expertly dribbling the ball between their feet before shooting the ball. There wasn't a soccer net but two metal poles painted yellow were hammered into the ground and the ball shot through the space between them.
As I got closer, I could tell that the person was muttering to themselves furiously, although I didn't quite understand why. Him - or her, or their - aim was excellent. I stopped just out of sight and watched them score over and over. When they missed, they swore loudly and I realized it was Sailor. She was much better than I remembered, but a lot could happen in four years. A lot had happened in four years.

"Damnit!" she said, throwing her hands in the air. "God, why couldn't you just go in!" I bit the inside of my cheek from chuckling. She was yelling at inanimate objects - again.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she continued. "Why couldn't you just go in?" She glared at the ball and mumbled something under her breath before stalking forward. She kicked the ball unnecessarily hard, making it bounce off one of the poles and she only got angrier. "Freaking Damian," she said out loud. "Freaking Damian and his stupid little dimples and his stupid little scar and his stupid, stupid, stupid -" She was ranting at nobody, like she always did when she was frustrated. I shouldn't have found it funny, but Sailor sounded so much like an angry five-year-old who had just been told they couldn't draw on walls anymore and I couldn't help but let a laugh escape.

She whipped around so quickly that her hair hit her face. She yelped involuntarily and brushed the strands away before scowling at me.

"Ha-ha, very funny," she said dryly. "Go on, keep laughing. I don't want to inconvenience you." I shook my head, smiling as I sat down to slip on my cleats and tie the laces.

She stared at me, confused. "You still play?"

"Of course I do," I said. "What, do you think I just quit after moving?"

"I mean... yeah?" Sailor watched me cautiously as I stood up and stretched, cracking my knuckles. "Sort of."

We fell silent after that until Sailor touched the ball to me gently - a sort of olive branch. I let it roll toward me until it reached my foot before passing it to her just as softly.

We spent a few minutes doing that until I kicked it to her a bit harder and the corner of her mouth turned upwards in the smallest smile. She did the same thing and before I knew it we were running, with me trying to kick the ball in between the poles and her defending them.

I moved the ball slightly ahead of me with the inside of my right foot before quickly doing a scissor with the same foot. I cut using an outside touch with my left foot and Sailor kicked her foot out, expecting the ball, but it never went her way.

I broke into a sprint, somehow managing to keep up with the ball. My cleats tore into the grass as I forced my legs to pump faster, faster, faster. A familiar adrenaline shot through my body and Sailor, realizing her mistake, started to run after me, but it was already too late. The ball rocketed through the poles and I whooped in triumph.

Sailor tackled me and I fell to the ground, grunting in surprise. She laughed as I struggled to peel off her hands, knowing what would happen next.

"No - no - please!" I squirmed on the dewy ground as she tickled my sides, laughing so hard I could barely get the words out. "Stop it! Stop it! I give up!" The last three words were so high-pitched and frantic that I would be impressed if she understood them.

"Say 'uncle!'" Sailor commanded, still tickling me and laughing so hard she nearly fell off me.

"UNCLE!" I practically screeched. "UNCLE!!"

Sailor rolled off me and I laid on the ground, taking a moment to catch my breath. "I hate you," I told her, but my wide grin took all the bite out of my words.

"You love me," she teased back.

Oh, if only you knew.

I smiled weakly at her again, but I couldn't think of a proper way to reply. We just kind of stared at each other for a while, waiting for the other to say something.

"Hey, Damian?" She finally broke the silence and I was thankful for it.

"Yeah?"

"What happened in Indiana?"

I smiled bitterly. "A lot of things happened in Indiana, Sailor. A lot more than you could imagine."

***

Here's another chapter! I kind of wrote two parts of the same chapter and ended up smushing them together, so I hope that's okay. AllianaAvelinJackson you so so so so much for all your support and funny comments! It really makes my day :)