Finding Atlas

The next day, Delphine could feel the awkward tension ebbing and flowing between Atlas and myself. We went the entire day not talking to each other, the only voice really contributing to conversation being Delphine's. She asked Atlas general questions, but not without hints of flirtation and girlishness, casual hair flips and slow smiles. When classes ended, I walked as fast as I could towards my car, but not without being stopped by Atlas when I pulled out my keys.

"We need to talk," Atlas said, and I shook my head in frustration.

"No, we don't. Didn't you already say what needed to be said? Friends, right?" I tried to walk around him, but resistance met futility when Atlas pushed me against my own car.

"Not just about that. You need to know what's going on. Please," His voice sounded strangled, troubled, and I couldn't help but cave.

"Your car or mine?" I asked defeatedly, and he replied, "I took the bus this morning, so your car, if you don't mind."

"Get in."

The entire car ride held a stiff, tense atmosphere. I didn't realize how tightly I was gripping the steering wheel until Atlas grabbed my hand and held it for the rest of the ride.

The car ride to his house seemed to take longer than before, and I couldn't help but breathe out a sigh of relief once I saw the familiar balconies towering high above us. Atlas never let go of my hand, save for the moment when he opened my door to help me get out.

"Just let me check if my mom is home," I couldn't help but catch traces of bitterness in his voice, but they had every reason to be there. Atlas crept around the side of the house then motioned for me to join him a few seconds after. The back door led to the kitchen, which was certainly not what I expected, looking like something that came from a cottage rather than a mansion. There was some feeling of home that I got from it, warm vibes that I couldn't help loving.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink or something?" He asked me, and my cheeks turned pink as I muttered my request incoherently.

"Pardon?"

"Hot chocolate with honey, please?" That was barely an improvement from before. By now, Atlas has the tiniest of smiles gracing his features, betraying the truth that he knew what I was saying.

"Sorry? I didn't get that, could you say it louder?"

"A 'damn hot chocolate with honey?' Please?" Atlas's grin only widened as he left me without a response and walked over to a cabinet to pull out two mugs. The playful atmosphere faded as soon as I cut to the chase.

"What's going on, Atlas?" He froze, if only for a moment, before setting the mugs on the counter, the sound of the glass hitting the wood echoing off the walls of the small room.

"Well, there's two things. Obviously, my mom cheating on my dad, being the lying, whorish, scum-of-the-earth—" I cut Atlas off with a tired sigh.

"Atlas, she's your mom. No matter what she does, she's still family, and a part of you is always gonna love her, so don't say things like that."

Atlas's face pinched up in anger and frustration before he released it all, his entire body sagging and his expression making him look centuries older.

"I know, I know. I—I'll always love her. And I hate myself for that, because, Christ, my dad's in the hospital and they're gonna pull the plug. He can't do a god damn thing and here she goes just 'seeking comfort'—that's what she called it when I finally let her talk to me, can you believe it? Seeking comfort. She disgusts me, and I want to hate her but I love her. And I love my dad. And I don't know whose side to take, you know? It's tearing me apart. And I don't want to fall apart."

By then, Atlas had tears in his eyes, but they weren't tears of sadness any more than they were frustration. He slid down the counter before sitting on the ground with his knees a few inches away from his chest with his head in his hands, the same position I found him in when he was in the forest.

I sat down beside him before I let him lean his head on my shoulder. As my head fell gently onto his, I couldn't help the thought that shot through my mind: I wouldn't mind staying in this position forever.

"You don't have to choose a side, Atlas, and it's okay to fall apart." Inside, I laughed bitterly at myself. I was such a hypocrite. It's okay to fall apart. But it wasn't okay, not for me. Atlas made falling apart look so beautiful, which was when I realized that he fell apart a while ago. Falling apart seemed to come naturally to him.

"When did you fall apart, Atlas? Tell me," I asked quietly, more to myself than to him. But he answered, "I guess when I saw her with that guy. God, I don't even know who he is."

"No," I responded, whispering to him. "When did you really fall apart?"

"When I saw you."