Chapter 25 - Sparks Will Fly

If I want to win our last fight in the qualifiers, I have to be focused. I wrapped up a section of work for my day job and don’t have to start immediately on the next one, giving me extra brain space. I’ve been using my cane more and spending extra time on pain care and recovery at night. I’m making sure to eat, sleep, and hydrate. There’s one final distraction I need to take care of, though.

I rub my sweaty palms on my jeans. Jacob approaches me all the fucking time. Why is it so daunting to do the same to him? Maybe I can wait for him to come to me. It’s inevitable at the rate it’s been happening. Maybe I should wait ‘til there are more people here. Maybe I should wait ‘til there are fewer people here. There’s a handful of people here, though it’s well after dinnertime, all hoping to stave off elimination in the last fight. They all seem focused on their work.

Okay, it’s now or never. Maybe I should go with never.

His gaze meets mine. I guess I don’t have a choice now. I will myself towards him. Each step brings a fresh wave of tension to my shoulders. My heart beats so fast I’m almost dizzy.

A tentative smile plays on his handsome features. “Hey,” he says as I approach. He sets his screwdriver down and takes a step closer, scanning me up and down like he’s checking for damage. His gaze is a shock to the system, lighting me up and shutting me down all at once. For a second, I can’t even remember why I’m here. “Is everything okay?”

“Why are you being nice to me?” I blurt, louder than I intended. “And also still being a dick sometimes?” The question leaves my mouth before I can stop it. My head whips around, ponytail swinging as I check to see if anyone is staring at us. Everyone is focused on their robots, thank god. His face falters before that stony displeasure I’m so used to seeing erases the worry. “Why have you spent the last decade being a jerk to me, and now you’re doing favors for me and checking on me?” I continue, determined to finish what I’ve started. The desperation to understand wells inside me like a hot spring, finally breaching the surface. It’s fresh and scalding. “Is it pity? Is it guilt?”

“It’s more than that.” His voice is a slow drag of stone on stone. Suddenly, he’s not happy to see me. I laugh, a nervous, angry bark. His glower deepens.

“You figured we were on neutral ground now, and you could pretend to be nice until I forget everything that happened?” I’m fuming. He studies the floor, hand rubbing his neck. My voice becomes shrill with anger. I tried and failed to keep my cool, but I’ve never acted rationally around him. He confuses my sensors, sends me spiraling the way no one else can. The embarrassment does not outweigh my anger, however.

“Come with me,” he says, turning and waving for me to follow. I should go to my room, forget about this whole thing. Forget about him. Against my better judgment, I follow.

He walks slowly enough for me to keep up without strain as he leads me through a corridor, though I’m not sure if that’s for my benefit or his own desire to delay this conversation. He opens a heavy door to a private, fenced-in back area. It’s scattered with picnic tables and chairs with umbrellas, though the small bit of grass is still winter-brown, and the unseasonably warm air has left some meltwater puddles on the concrete. There are lights along the fence, as well as a few on poles. The air is cool, but that’s not what’s making me shiver.

“It’s a break space for staff,” he explains. “A concierge showed me a couple of years ago.”

We sit at a picnic table on opposite sides, and I think back to the diner. The kindness, the curiosity, the confusion. In the dark of the night, with the gentle light of the rope lights and electric torches, this could be romantic. His full lips press into a tight line I know so well. This time, I won’t be lulled into whatever game he’s trying to play.

“Why?” It’s less of a question than a demand.

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in the shadows. His gaze drops to the table. I wish I could read him, but when he’s not being cold, he’s a mystery to me now. The Jacob I knew when we were kids is long gone. Those eyes are not an open window to me. They are boarded up, bricked off, and wallpapered over.

“You were right. I was hoping this would be neutral ground.” His head shakes as he laughs derisively at himself. “I didn’t realize things were so ….” he trails off. “I’m always fucking up around you, Mari. Since the day we met, every move, every word—it’s always been the wrong one.”

My brow furrows, and I wrap my arms around myself to stave off the cold and stop my fidgeting. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember when we met?” There it is again. That bittersweet tenderness. I want to slap it off him. I want to run my thumb over the ridge of his cheekbone and turn it to only sweetness. Everything about him tears me in two.

“Yeah, of course.” I remember everything between us. The good and the bad.

“When I saw you, I was nervous for the first time in my life. Suddenly, there’s this amazing new girl on the scene, and she could give me a run for my money, and she’d fought less than a handful of fights.” He closes his eyes, letting the memory play behind his lids. His lips twitch into a small smile. It fades when he opens them again. “And suddenly, three years had gone by, and I was still trying to figure out how to talk to you.” He scrubs his face. “When I came back to the Twin Cities after grad school, I didn’t think you’d still be there. Someone as smart as you, I figured you’d be long gone and taking over the world or something.”

No. I was working multiple jobs, getting Ava to school on time and helping her with her homework, and trying to keep my dad from losing both the house and his business. My jaw trembles, leaving my words to quiver embarrassingly. “So, you decided to be a total asshole to me?”

His head hangs again. “I fucked up. I can’t focus around you, Mari. The second I saw you, I wanted—well, it doesn’t matter.” He takes a moment to gather himself, looking up at me with those silver-gray eyes, earnest and intense. It knocks the wind out of me. “I lost, and everyone started questioning if I should have come back at all, if I really should be on Circuit Smack. I was thrown off guard.” His bouncing leg makes the table shake slightly, enough to add to the spins wracking me.

“When you applied for my team, I should have handled that very differently. That spot should have been yours.” Jacob’s eyes meet mine, and I’m free-falling through the gray clouds, confusion stealing the air from me. I wrap my arms tighter to hold myself steady, but it’s not working.

“I wanted you gone because you were a risk to everything I thought I had under control.” His hands on the table ball into tight fists. What? “I was trying to start a new job, build a new bot, and you were back in my life. I thought if you weren’t around, it would be easier. I didn’t realize what it meant for you.” He rumbles like a storm. “I’m sorry, Mari. You should be on my team. Hell, you should have your own team.” He swallows slowly, voice thick. “I’m sorry. I let my shit get in the way. You didn’t deserve that.”

My voice is little more than a croak, my throat choked with too many thoughts and emotions to let the sound escape properly. “And the scandal that still follows me everywhere? What about that? Your own team was taunting me about it yesterday. I can’t escape it.”

His expression twists instantly, brows knitting as his fist flattens on the table. If he were a dog, I swear he’d be growling. “Wait, hold on. Who was taunting you about it?”

I flinch at the memory. “Tall guy, curly blond hair.”

Jacob’s jaw twitches, eyes sharp. “Fucking Brian. This is the final straw. He’s off the team after this season. He’s lucky I’m not sending him home immediately.”

“Wait, what?”

“He’s been slacking and causing tension. He’s overfamiliar with me, like we’re close friends. And no one is allowed to be malicious to other teams. Especially not to you.” The only time I’ve ever seen him scowl as fiercely as he is now has been at me.

Confusion rattles through me further. “You can’t fire someone for being a dick to me.”

“I can actually,” he growls for real this time.

“You can fire someone for mentioning what happened, but you won’t even apologize or admit to lying and getting me labeled a sore loser?” I bite out.

The bot-building community is full of kind and amazing people, but like any community, some dramas are evergreen. That label has followed me around for years. I’ve been very careful not to rock the boat. I haven’t contested any judges’ decisions since that fight thanks to him. I’ve lost fights I should have won, I’ve lost respect, and I’ve lost opportunities. And now it’s getting brought up over and over again on an international stage.

The anger is gone from him in a moment, replaced by sorrow. This expressiveness is discombobulating compared to the statuesque Jacob I’ve come to know. “It was a monumental fuck up. I should have come clean. I was under so much pressure. I was worried about sponsorships, my place at Circuit Smack. Ampere was a smaller version of my heavyweight bot at the time and having a malfunction that big would be catastrophic.” His cheeks are flooded with color. I want to reach out and touch the heat of them. “The risk of losing everything overwhelmed me. Then it had gone on so long, and I couldn’t—I didn’t,” he scrubs his face with his hands and pauses for a moment. He takes a deep breath, early spring air filling his lungs. I watch it settle into him as he squares his shoulders. “There’s no excuse. I fucked up, and I’m sorry.”

“Jacob, you could have hurt someone.” My voice is little more than a whisper. The fear is still deeply ingrained.

He winces. “I know. I paid for all those new cameras for the Twin Cities events, including the driver cameras. I pushed for the new rule set that came a couple of years later. I quadruple-test my bots now and added another failsafe.” Those are all the things I would have done if I had the money and time. Things I wanted done and requested during the appeals. I quadruple-tested Zeta’s failsafe after our incident. I should have done it before. We aren’t as different as I thought.

“I did everything to stop it from happening again and to atone, except for the most important part—admit the truth and apologize to you. Hurting you was a worse outcome than anything I would have lost from coming clean,” he says.

There is a spot in my mind where Jacob lives. It’s a bigger spot than I care to admit or examine. Each word he says scrapes away the rust inside it and around our memories. The metal is dull and pockmarked, but maybe there is something salvageable. Regardless, it can’t soften the sharpness of the hurt. The jagged ache still presses against all the soft parts of me.

“And you thought I would forget because you bought me dinner and 3D-printed me some rings? You almost ruined my career. You cost me so much.” My voice cracks and tears well in my eyes. “Jacob, you were my friend. You almost took this sport from me.” I look at the night sky, trying to stop the tears from falling. The last thing I need is Jacob to see me with my mascara running. Still, a drop spills. It’s scalding hot as it slides down my cheek, the shame scorching my skin. I wipe it away quickly with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.

His voice is strained. “At first, I thought with time and distance, maybe we could both forget. Move on. I understood why you avoided me.” His genius hands twitch, and he tucks them under the table in his lap, like having them near me would be too much. “When we got here, I thought, ‘It’s been enough time. She can’t still be mad. No one still cares.’ I thought we could both pretend it never happened.” The way he’s looking at me makes me want to run away and run into his arms all at once. “That was foolish and cowardly. You don’t have to forgive me. But I want to earn your trust, if you’ll let me.”

I sniffle, embarrassingly. He couldn’t look more pained if I had punched him in the stomach. “Why? You’ve made it very clear for years that you want nothing to do with me until a couple of weeks ago.”

“At first, I was pushing you away, and then I was giving you space. Both things, I now realize, were really, really foolish.” Those big gray eyes roam over me for reasons unknown. “Mari, you’re one of the best people in this sport, and I’m the reason you don’t have your own heavyweight bot. I want to fight you in that Circuit Smack arena one day with a bot you can be proud of. You deserve that opportunity and more.” His bittersweet expression is made more dramatic in the low light. “We were friends. I know you can do it on your own, but you don’t have to. I’m on your side. I have been since we were kids. I never wanted to be your rival. I really, really fucked up and was too cowardly to fix it.” He looks sincere, his own watery eyes full of admiration. It stuns me like a zap from a poorly wired battery. “Let me help you.”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“Will you at least trust me when I say it’s anything but pity?” He’s tired and disheveled. That perfect paint peeling under my scrutiny. For once, he doesn’t seem like a towering figure to me. He finally seems human. Flawed and confused like me. There is shiny metal underneath the rot and decay of who we used to be.

I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t give this man an inch when he’s taken miles and miles from me. But that pull—that maddening, unbearable pull towards him—tugs me towards him. His confession lies over me like a blanket. There are some holes in it that need to be patched, if there’s enough material left to even do so, but it’s warmer than it was. I’m tired of being angry with him. It’s so much more energy than I have to spare.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks tentatively.

“I trust it’s not pity. I don’t know if I can forgive you for lying, but …” I’m tired. You’re in my head, and I need you out. You’ve done more for me in a week and a half than anyone has done in years. I’m afraid you’re wrong. I can’t do this on my own. I’ve missed you since I was nineteen. “… I trust you. It’s not pity.”

“That’s enough for me, Mari.” He sags with relief. “I’m more than happy with you knowing that.”

I think of Ava’s words and my own. It’s been so long, and I’m so tired of hurting. “And I forgive you for being a general dickhead for almost a decade. We’re too old to hold grudges like that.” A puff of laughter leaves me, floating into the night. His jaw hangs with surprise before a tentative joy makes its way to the surface. I take a deep breath, trying to sort my thoughts. “I want to start over.” A week ago, I wanted to throttle him, but I need to focus on what’s important. I’m tired of being angry in the arena, the place that gives me the freedom and power I want. It’s been tainted enough, and I’m taking it back.

“Really?” The quiet awe in his voice makes me shiver. “Really?” he repeats like he doesn’t believe me.

I finally unwrap my arms and hold out my hand to him, “Hi. I’m Mari.” My purple ring splints are a deep, rich violet in the dark of the night.

He holds out a shaking hand. “Hi, I’m the coward known as Jacob.” When our hands touch, it’s an electric spark under my skin, warm and shocking. We both stare at our hands for a second before letting go in unison.

“Well, this was—well, it wasn’t fun,” I laugh tiredly, biding time to find the right word. “Enlightening, I suppose. And exhausting.” I look at my watch; if I don’t hustle back to my room, I’ll be late for the team-building exercise we scheduled tonight. “I have to get going.” I break loose from the picnic table’s grasp. Threads of anger and sadness break and hang loose from me. Not quite gone but not as tightly worn.

He nods but doesn’t move. “I’m going to stay here for a bit. But Mari? Thank you,” he says shyly. “Thank you for hearing me out. I promise I’ll do anything not to hurt you again.”

I swallow the fear that what he said was a lie. We were friends, and maybe we’re not as different as I thought we had become. There’s still too much confusion wrapped around my feelings to figure out in my exhaustion. I can’t let go of the unease still woven through me. Jacob could be a powerful ally, or he could be my downfall once again.