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As she bypasses a rack of glow-in-the-dark balls and crosses into Lane 8, I’m slack-jawed as Xander stands up first and lifts a casual hand in greeting.
Is this my shy brother?
What dimension am I in?
“Xander, or Paul Atreides,” he greets. “You are?”
She’s holding a manila envelope, a little caught off guard by his introduction. “Harriet. Just Harriet.”
Harriet?
Harriet! New memories I’ve recently made are surfacing. The phone call in Superheroes & Scones. Tom’s disgruntlement towards her.
“Harriet?” Xander’s brows pinch, turning to me but with his back to her. “Do you know a Harriet, Luna?” He’s also mouthing to me, bathroom, go pee. Having to pee is a good escape tactic, but I might be able to wiggle my way through this interaction.
“I do know a Harriet. Lab partner Harriet.”
Harriet hasn’t confirmed whether that is her yet. Because a towering six-foot-five Cobalt suddenly enters our lane.
Ben Cobalt is now eighteen. I’ve always known him as the sort of boy who spends hours running barefoot through the woods and jumping into rivers. He’s always been a jock, a guy’s guy, yet he barely gets along with his four brothers.
I wonder if that’s changed.
“Hey,” Ben Cobalt smiles, a little out of breath like he jogged here from Lane 2. He’s wearing a ringer tee that says love the earth. “We go to Penn together.” He’s talking to Harriet, but as Ben glances to me, I sense he’s doing his best to aid me in my memory-less quest for answers. He’s coming in with the save.
“Thousands of people go to Penn,” Harriet says flatly. “How would you know I go there? We’re not even in any classes together.”
“I remember people and faces fairly easily, and I’m positive I’ve seen you on campus before.” Ben is smiling and trying to catch her downcast gaze. “Am I wrong?”
Her squared shoulders haven’t loosened. “Dude, I know who you are, and your brother hates my guts, so maybe you should stop fraternizing with the enemy.”
“My brothers’ enemies aren’t mine.”
Her brows furrow. “Aren’t Cobalts all like, we all kill and die together, hoorah?” Her hoorah is dry, and she pumps an unenthused fist in the air.
Ben laughs, which takes Harriet aback even more.
Xander assesses their interaction stiffly. By the frost my brother is giving off, I assume his broken friendship with Ben hasn’t been mended. Three years does not heal all.
I slip into the conversation. “You want some cake?” I ask Lab Partner Harriet.
“No thanks. I can’t stay long.” She leaves both guys behind and hands me the manila envelope. “I talked to our professor again, and he okayed you finishing out the course off-campus. You just have to peer-review our labs and email them back to him.”
I take the envelope, not understanding this act of kindness. Did I do something to deserve it? “You didn’t have to go through the trouble…”
“It’s nothing,” Harriet says, but it’s a better gift than she realizes. I won’t have to fumble my way through social interactions that Original Luna made, and possibly I can start fresh next semester on my own terms.
I can commit fully this time. Do more than what I did before.
“It’s not nothing,” I say so quietly, unsure if she hears. Louder, I say, “Thank you.”
She nods once. Then on her way out, she passes between Ben and Xander and glances between them. “Bye, Cobalt boy. Bye, Paul Atreides.”
“See you around, Harriet,” Ben says.
Xander raises a hand in goodbye, and once she’s gone, he whirls to Ben. “Why’d you come over here?”
I’m the only one sitting in the swivel chairs. The USS Enterprise is experiencing rough turbulence.
Ben motions to me. “I didn’t think Luna remembered her. I was trying to help.”
Xander grimaces. “No, you didn’t think I could handle that situation.”
“You didn’t know her!”
“You didn’t either! You literally just met her.”
I spring up. “No fighting on my birthday. It’s a birthday law.” I spread out my arms, but they’re actually several feet away from me. They’re both stewing, and in one solid second, they split apart in opposite directions. Xander leaves for the bathroom, and Ben is headed for the exit.
I still have my arms spread.
That worked too well.
Back in my swivel chair, I stare at my sad plate of swirled frosting and mushy cake. The bowling alley darkens as galactic twinkle-lights explode over the ceiling. It’s cool, and this party is safer than venturing to a bar alone…but being around so much family makes me feel surrounded by all the time I’ve lost.
“This seat taken?” Donnelly asks, hands on the swivel chair beside me.
My breath catches, and I check the shoe closet. My therapist has vanished. Is he allowed to be in my presence? The question drifts, thoughts stolen at the sight of his black sparkly shirt and matching pants. His purple belt kinda resembles a nebula.
Something about the outfit puzzles me, a tickle against my brain.
