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We'd go home together by car after football practice, Atticus and I. 

Well, Dad would be there too of course, but he'd be driving. Atticus and I would be together in the backseat...Silent. Just like we were every day. Just like we were on the way to school this morning. 

I needed to stop thinking about Atticus. 

The chat did not exist. 

Escape Rooms, on the other hand, did exist. I tried to focus on the fun memories of yesterday afternoon. Chiara, Dad, and I had opted for a pirate cabin Escape Room, and we won in the nick of time. It'd been fun. We laughed a lot, like the tensions at the breakfast table had never happened. I wished Atticus had been there, too. 

I cringed. Damn it, there Atticus was again, getting into my head. He'd even shown up when I was doodling in my room. Aimlessly, or so I thought, until I realised the guy in the sketch was slowly turning in a football player. 

It was crazy, incredibly crazy, but somewhere way, way in the back of my mind, the notion that Atticus had been talking about me in that chat box was floating around. You know, just, casually hanging out and asking: 'hey, who would be more inappropriate for him to ask out than his stepbrother?' Jonah had typed my name, too. 

Who knew, though. Atticus had been so mysterious thus far, I had no idea what was floating around way, way in the back of his mind. I doubted he was going to tell me anything. Mandy was obviously off the table as an information source as well. 

Then there was Jonah. I wondered if Jonah and Atticus were even really 'friends.' It was all incredibly confusing. I paid attention this morning right before we entered the classroom, and they didn't seem to talk to each other at all in school hallways. 

And now, inside our English classroom, they could almost literally not sit further apart. Atticus was in the back with Corey and some other jocks. He'd switched places. He sat in the centre last time. Becky and I sat at the front, with Jonah and Kim behind us. Mandy was behind Jonah and Kim. I hadn't spoken to her since the party. 

Mandy and I briefly made eye contact and I did return her smile, but I wasn't planning on talking to her more than I needed to. I turned my attention to Becky and Jonah. 

"Hey, I didn't see you at the party anymore," Becky told Jonah, who shrugged. 

"Nah, sorry Becks, I had to be somewhere else," he vaguely replied. 

Jonah leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and my eyes lingered on him. I wondered if he'd gone outside to talk with Atticus during the party, and what they were talking about. 

Damn it, stop! I scolded myself. Amnesia. Remember: you have amnesia. Wait, that didn't sound right. 

"So, any chance the theatre group can have some of those paintings you made? I'm sure we'll be able to use them for a play some day. With some adjustments." 

It took me a solid four seconds and Becky clearing her throat to registerer that Jonah was asking me a question. 

"Sorry. Yeah, sure," I quickly replied, smiling and shaking my head. "I'll even help with the adjustments if you want." 

Jonah raised his eyebrows in question, but then returned my smile. "Great. We'll probably take you up on that. We suck at getting our sets done in time, and painting as an after school activity seems more like your thing than football anyway." 

Jonah's incredibly odd but beautiful brown-blue hazel eyes sparkled with amusement. 

My thing? Was that code for something? 

"I'm not sure what my thing is yet," I blurted, immediately regretting the words as they left my mouth.

Of course it wasn't code for anything. I was overthinking. 

"What?" Jonah asked. 

"Never mind, class is startin'," I replied, incredibly happy to see Mrs. Nilsen, the English teacher and perfect still sketching model, stalk into the room. 

I spent the rest of the school day pretending I had never given a weird answer to Jonah's remark, and didn't know anything I shouldn't know about Atticus. 

After my first football practice, I'd given up on pretending. Not even being yelled at and forced to run around on a scorching hot field until my head spun made me stop thinking. 

Atticus Bruno was a handsome guy. Truly. The tones of his brown skin and sea-green eyes complimented each other perfectly. I was pretty sure that golden ratio face mask that measured how perfect your facial proportions were would fit his features very well. Maybe his lips were a little too small, jaw slightly uneven...

Okay, that wasn't the point. The point was that I'd ended up sneaking glances at Atticus' stone-face later at the dinner table, too. I wondered what he was thinking, I wanted to know if he wanted to ask me out, and I definitely shouldn't want to know. 

We didn't know each other after all, and Atticus' attitude sure could use some major adjustments. The perpetual sour frown wasn't very attractive and he'd been downright rude. 

But those were just the nerves. Possibly. I'd established he was likely anxious.  

Frankly, I wasn't sure what to think if Atticus was talking about me in his chat. It was insane how quickly a glimpse at a chat box had turned into this weird obsession about who surly Atticus liked. We'd barely spoken. 

There was a wall between us. Quite literally right now. I was staring at it while sitting on my bed in the attic. There was a sketchbook on my lap, but the page was as blank as my mind. 

I tensed for a second when Atticus' door suddenly opened in the hallway. 

I had left my own door open, so I caught a glimpse of him walking past before he entered the laundry room on my right. He had his shirt, pants, and towel in his hands. 

Chiara was like that. She insisted boys, just like girls, should learn how to do laundry. She'd  excused us both from cooking duty for now though, because we were both really busy with either integrating in a new school in my case, or being a varsity jock in Atticus' case. 

Breathing out deeply, I grabbed my laptop and sent Jenny and Taylor, my artist friends from my old high school a quick message.

Me: Guys. I'm in a situation here. I think a guy likes me but I'm not sure and idk what I think about him. should I go talk to him yes or no? 

Great, Atticus was already loading his laundry into the machine and Jenny and Taylor weren't popping online. No calling a friend to ask for help in this gameshow. I had to make my own calls.

I'd been planning from the beginning to try and bond with my dad's new family. I could keep doing that like before. If I wanted to commit to not behaving any differently and not treating Atticus any differently than before, I should, actually. 

Regardless of what was going on, I still wanted us to at least be able to hang out normally. As long as Chiara and Dad were dating, he'd be in my life one way or another and it'd be better to get along. 

"Okay, go time," I muttered to myself, quickly snatching my bag of dirty sports clothing off the floor.

I stuck my head around the corner of the laundry room, smiling at Atticus who was pouring the detergent into the machine.

"Hey!" I greeted him when he looked up with his usual resting-frown. "Do you mind if I add some laundry to that load?" I jiggled the plastic laundry-filled bag in my hand. 

Atticus' eyes darted to the bag, then he stepped away from the washing machine. "Yeah. Go ahead. You put the machine on."

He was already out of the small laundry room before I could utter a 'thanks' or let alone get any other word in. 

Well, that didn't go as expected. No, actually, it went exactly as expected given how he'd been around me thus far. 

"Wait!" I blurted, while Atticus was half still standing in the hallway, half already in his bedroom. 

He tilted his head back so he could see me. His hand gripped the door handle and his eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"

Think. What would casual, pre-chat box Kade say? Friendly, non-awkward Kade. 

I coughed. "Uh, so you missed Escape Room day with Dad and Chiara." 

Atticus tilted his head to the side slightly. "Yep." 

I didn't have a follow up. Atticus was standing there, still half in the doorway, waiting for me to get to the point. I wasn't sure if I had one. 

My eyes shot to my door opening, and I saw my football shoes on the floor with a pair of dirty socks still in there. I'd forgotten to put those in the washing machine. 

That gave me an idea.

"You go to the gym a lot, right? I've been wantin' to start since it'll help me with football, but I'm not sure how. Could you show me around?" 

Had Atticus been the letting-his-jaw-drop kind of person, I was sure his jaw would've dropped now. The only reason why his lips were still tightly pressed together now, is because there was a permanent sour lemon rind in his mouth.  

Atticus' Adam's apple bobbed. His eyes darted away from my face. 

"Sure, tag along next time," he then said curtly, his answer not at all matching up with his frowning 'no' expression nor his tone. I could never get used to it. 

Atticus' door closed.

I breathed out through my mouth, leaning the back of my head against the wall. Trying to bond with my step brother take-two, after the burgers failed.

... Who was I kidding? It wasn't the same now, and I knew it. This wasn't 'let's be civil' and 'let's be normal stepbrothers' anymore after what I saw. The sudden fascination I had for Atticus now wasn't normal. No matter how hard I tried to pretend it was.


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