My Mechanical Romance by Alexene Farol Follmuth

Author:Alexene Farol Follmuth [Follmuth, Alexene F]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Holiday House
Published: 2022-03-14T00:00:00+00:00

Jamie: how’s it going??

Jamie: wish I could be there...mock trial is killing me

Jamie:

Jamie: knock ’em dead robot overlord!!!

“Bel,” says Teo, looking over his shoulder to where I’m standing behind him. He has the remote in his hand, which doesn’t look all that different from the PlayStation controller Luke usually plays with. “Are you listening?”

“Sorry.” I shove my phone back in my pocket. “What do you need?”

He glares at me. “You to put your phone away.”

Wonderful.

“So you’re still angry, then,” I mutter. “Cool, very cool.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” I glance up at him, straining to see Dante. “Do I have to stand back here?”

Teo looks like he’s going to say something obnoxious, but then he changes his mind at the last second.

“No,” he says, and steps to the side. “Here. You’ll see better from here.”

I thank him gruffly, to which he grunts something in reply, but I have to admit, the excitement is starting to hit me now that our bot is actually in the ring. Teo looks absurdly calm; his hands are relaxed around the controller and his forearms are flexed, but not tensed. I know I wouldn’t look nearly so cool if I were in his position.

“You ready?” he asks me.

“Uh—” Someone bumps my other side and I step closer to him, trying to stay out of the way of the migrating blue team. “Oops, sorry, Teo—”

“This space is for engineers and drivers only,” says someone from the blue team: St. Michael’s, an all-boys academy. It takes me a second to realize that the kid with the remote is talking to me, because I’m wearing the Essex Academy Robotics polo that should make it obvious that I have a right to be here.

“I’m an engineer,” I say, and I wish I could have enjoyed the experience of saying that for the very first time, but instead the dude gives me a blank look. Apparently to him, engineers are only identifiable by their Y chromosomes.

“Oh, right,” he says. “Diversity points. Got it.”

It’s rare for me to get so insulted that I’m viscerally outraged, but it definitely happens. “Are you kidding me right now?” I ask him.

“Shut up, Richardson,” says Teo without looking up. “You’re going down.”

“Whatever, Luna. Vertical spinner again? Good luck.”

I clench a fist, glaring at whoever Richardson is. He’s ignoring me—like I don’t even matter. Like I’m not even here.

“Your bot’s too big,” I tell him flatly. “Gyroscopic force will send it off the ground like a helicopter. Three to one odds we shred that aluminum base in the first minute.”

Richardson gives me a doubtful scoff. “You’re on,” he mutters. I wish I’d punched him in the face instead, but then I notice Teo looking at me.

“What?” I mutter to him.

“Nothing.” He slides me another glance.

“What, Teo?”

“Nothing, I just...” He suppresses a laugh. “You’re all...spicy.”

“I’m spicy?”

“Yeah. You know, fighty.”

“Fighty? Teo, speak English—”

He nudges me and I realize I missed the smell of him. Laundry detergent and boy.

(Hormones are honestly the worst thing anyone’s ever invented.)

“Red team, ready?” calls the ref, as Justin, Dash, and Emmett crowd in around us.

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