A H.E.R.O.S PROJECT 12

22. Best of me

The morning meeting is in Richie's laboratory.

Richie's laboratory is just a dingy shack made of plywood, metal sheets, and thin wood beams that Mom bought him. Mom got sick of Richie blowing up furniture in the house and threw him outside. His lab isn't a horrible workspace. There are windows and tables and a couch for his friends. Tools and projects he's either failed or is still working on hang on the walls.

The infamous blow torch was a bad, bad idea. The automatic knife (that was a bust), the glow-in-the-dark lamp, which I thought was incredible, and my favorite, the Google pen. It's a pen connected to Google, and it's supposed to help you cheat on tests by writing down the correct answer.

I used the Google pen once—my math exam caught on fire, and I had detention for a month.

Present in Richie's laboratory: Tris, Dougie, and Lee.

The A Team.

Tris keeps me outside and scrolls on her phone, constantly checking the time because she's up too early and can't stand being awake before she's ready.

Tris is not a morning person, so being up this early isn't good for her mental health. She's usually late to first period every day because, in her words, "There's nothing for me at seven-thirty a.m." When I told her to come to my house at five a.m., she screamed, cursing. I apologized for disturbing her beauty sleep. She only calmed down when I offered to buy her coffee at Starcash after school and with any pastry of her choosing. She ordered me to buy her dinner too, and still, she complained.

"Anaya," Tristian tenderly touches my arms. She's not afraid of my glossy metallic skin or the red gems on my back. I'm not wearing a jacket yet, so she can see all my silvery modifications. Her hand doesn't shake as her fingers glide up my shoulder to my cheek. She cups my chin so I have to look at her. "I don't want to lose you." She holds back her tears, her crystal blue eyes shining bluer in the morning light.

"And you won't," I assure her. Even if I do die, I won't place that burden on her. I won't let her watch me become a prisoner in this metallic body. She can cry over my corpse. Not while I'm passing. "Richie said he has a plan. I'll be fine."

My words don't stop her from crying. A tear streams down her cheek. I catch it with my hand, soothing her the best I can.

"I've never had someone as special as you in my life. You're more than a friend. You're family Yaya. I can't have you turning into a statue and abandoning me. You and my dad and Mom are all I have, and I won't lose any of you. If I have to take care of you, then I will. Like, I will put your body in my Mom's garden, so I can look at you every day, but—"

I hug her before she can finish.

Tristian yelps in pain. "You're too strong!" she cries, squirming in my arms. I hear her back cracking, jolting to be set free. I release her, backing away as fast as possible. But she grabs my hand and won't let me go. I tug at her hand, but she won't stop holding me. She breathes, taking in heavy breaths, stretching and twisting her back.

I didn't mean to hurt her or pick her up. Tristian doesn't weigh anything.

Again, I try to tear my hand from her. "Stop it, Anaya. Stop fighting me and hold my hand." Those blue eyes watch me struggle, breaking her firm grip.

She sighs, staring at me.

She pulls on me, and together we sit in the grass. She dismisses my protesting and crosses her legs, leaning back and looking off somewhere.

She won't let my hand go. So I sit there, staring at her.

She doesn't speak another word, picking up a ladybug crawling onto her blue jeans. She lifts the ladybug to her lips and whispers a secret into it. The little creature parts its wings and flies to the rose pink and sherbet orange sky.

"What did you tell it? " I ask Tristian.

Tris slightly croons her head and neck to acknowledge me, bringing my hand to her thigh, to her heart, "For a little luck."

Tris lies in the grass facing the sky, and I do the same.