What if little Ollie Stanton turned out to be the one meant for greatness after all?

“I’ll go with Harrison,” I said in answer to the expectation. It was the most surprising option available. The only way to keep the Nick battle in my favor.

Harrison recoiled like I’d punched him in the gut. “Uh,” he said, looking to Aidy.

“I’ll go with Nick,” she countered. She thought this was the start of another fight between her and me.

I hadn’t meant to upset her. Still, I found myself throwing kindling to the flame. “That’s fine,” I said.

To have something to contribute, Ruby said, “I don’t mind being by myself.”

So it became Harrison and me down the left tunnel, Ruby up the center, Aidy and Nick to the right. Harrison and I spent the first few minutes listening to the pipes above us creak and rattle as we walked. It sounded like a constant stream of semitrucks driving over our heads. The farther we got, the more distant the noise became, and with it came the expectation of conversation to replace it.

It turned out I had no clue what to say to Harrison Shin. Everything I knew of him came from Aidy’s stories, mixed with a touch of the constant colorless interactions we had. Hey, Olivia. Hi, Harrison. How’s school? Good. How about for you? Good.

I always imagined his dreams to be as simple as our conversations. He wanted to marry Aidy. Get a good job. Buy a house in Cadence. My image of him floated as a mirage in front of us. As I contemplated it, Little Ollie emerged next to him, peace sign tankini stained with blood, struggling under the weight of an imaginary Marley wrapped around her neck. She cried out for help. Over and over.

“I’m sorry,” I said to Harrison, compelled by the memory of my younger self. Harrison had been hard for me to know. He belonged to Aidy almost entirely, and I’d accepted that for as long as I’d known him.

“For what?” He cast light onto the concrete walls in pursuit of another message, pretending to find our mission more interesting than an apology from me.

“I haven’t always been fair to you,” I started.

“Oh,” he said, stunned.

“I know, I’m being weird. But let me talk for a second.” I took a deep breath. It smelled terrible where we were. “I don’t like it when people accept only one idea of who I am. I do that to you. I’m sorry,” I said again. My magic words fell from my lips before I could consider the consequences of renovating my impression of him.