The Science of Paper Airplanes

"In all honesty, I would rather stay in and eat ice cream," I said matter-of-factly. Tadashi only shook his head as he tied the corsage around my wrist.

"Then it's too bad that you agreed to go to prom with me," he retorted smugly.

"You insisted."

"You said yes."

I shrugged. "How could I say no when you finally managed to fly a paper plane in a straight line?" I said.

Tadashi's hair had been combed for the occasion, in lieu of his baseball cap. It was almost strange, seeing him without it, as if he weren't the same guy who snored through his late afternoon naps or geeked out over innovative technology. He didn't look like the Tadashi I knew, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

Without thinking, I reached up and straightened his bow tie. "Surprisingly, all this suits you," I commented. "Even though this isn't really your cup of tea."

The corner of his mouth lifted up, and he responded, "I could say the same for you. Who would've thought that green was your color?"

I shook my head and laughed. "Oh no, all eyes are definitely going to be on the robotics nerd tonight. Am I going to lose my date?" I teased.

"I thought we agreed to call this a compromise," Tadashi said with a shrug, "but if you want to call it a date, I won't complain." He followed his statement with a sly wink.

I rolled my eyes. "Why do people think you're so shy? You're far from it." He only grinned in response.

By this time, Cass had finally located a camera from behind Mochi's litter box ("That darn cat!"), though I suspected Hiro had conveniently misplaced it so she'd be distracted while he sneaked out to watch some bot fights to garner ideas for his own tech. I figured it wasn't a good idea to mention my deduction to his brother.

"Look at both of you," Cass cooed. Tadashi took his place by my side and threw his arm around my shoulder to pose for pictures.

"Alright, Aunt Cass," he said after the umpteenth click of the shutter, "we'd better get going if we want to make it in time for the cable car."

As soon as we had boarded the Powell & Hamakiri car and he had graciously given me the only remaining seat, Tadashi's demeanor had shifted from reserved to mischievous. "Want to ditch the dancing and head to the Fisherman's Wharf?" he asked suggestively. His grip around the pole visibly tightened as we started a trek uphill.

"Bit of a ride," I said, "but anything beats dancing. We'll be the most stylishly dressed there."

He laughed in agreement, until his eyes landed on a point just behind me, and he said, "Unbelievable. Hiro?"

The younger Hamada's voice was filled with guilt. "Oh hey, Tadashi, Nova! Weird seeing you guys here, huh?" he tried. I could only imagine him pulling at his own collar.

Tadashi was not convinced by Hiro's weak attempts at avoiding punishment. "I want you to call Aunt Cass and have her pick you up from the next stop," he reprimanded. The thirteen-year-old reluctantly obeyed.

"Don't stress, he can take pretty good care of himself for his age," I said after Hiro had gotten off. The seat next to me was vacated, but Tadashi gave it to the man who'd been standing beside him.

"I can't help but worry," he said. "I promised myself I'd look after him. It's the least I could do for Aunt Cass and our parents." It was a common occurrence for Tadashi to mention his parents, but he'd never explained how they died, as if he didn't want to remember. I only nodded and kept quiet until the smell of the sea graced our presence.

"It's cold out tonight," I said as we walked in the direction of the Chowder House, eyeing the multitude of couples that were out for evening strolls. Tadashi automatically took his jacket off to wrap it around me, and I playfully hip-checked him. "Ever the gentleman."

"It's just how my dad taught me," he said modestly. "He had his own code of honor that he expected Hiro and I to follow when we got older."

"Which was?" I pressed. A breeze blew through the lapels of the jacket, and I shivered before pulling it tighter.

"Always do what the lady wants." We both laughed at the philosophy, and Tadashi skipped over a fresh-looking piece of gum that had been carelessly thrown onto the sidewalk. "I forgot to ask you something earlier," he said slowly.

"Shoot."

"Why didn't we just go to your house earlier instead of mine?" he blurted. He sounded as though he would've burst if he didn't get his words out quickly enough. "You've been to the café plenty, but I've never even seen where you live."

"I don't really have a house," I started slowly. "My parents live in New York, and that's where they work. They wanted me to study here though, so my cousin and her husband let me have their guest bedroom. Mom and Dad come down for Christmas."

Tadashi looked aghast, and we stopped walking altogether as we passed an odd pirate statue. "Why don't your parents just take up a job here?" he asked, disgust evident in his tone. "Don't they want to be near you?"

I shrugged. "I'm used to it, it works better this way," I said. Tadashi couldn't wrap his head around it.

"Don't they care?"

"It's a formality," I said simply. "As far as I'm concerned, my cousin is my legal guardian, and it's more freeing that way."

It seemed silly once I'd said it aloud, but he softened, and we began our steady pace again. "You're so stubborn, you know that?" The moon peeked out from behind the building next to us, and Orion's Belt was just starting to become visible against the darkening sky overhead.

"I know."

Tadashi put his arm back around my shoulder. "Hey, you'll show me around the other side of the country someday," he said. "It might not have Silicon Valley, but it can't be too bad."

I leaned into him. "Knowing you, you'll just be excited to see the airport," I said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He pouted comically, and I giggled.

"That you need to get out more, nerd."

"I am never helping you with your homework again."