The History of Us

After Nico’s departure, things are a bit awkward between me and Sol at first. The quiet is charged, his grip on my hand almost intense. But anger, frustration, hatred, like all things, are temporary.

As we start to roam the halls of the museum, taking in the elaborate displays of Mars over the years, the things we’d discovered about the planet, the plants that flourished, how the soil was enriched, and the invention of the public atmospheres, the mood between us settles into something more comfortable.

Like me, Sol seems to take comfort in learning. Reading the holos is almost meditative, and holding his hand is a comfort that I haven’t known before.

I feel less alone, less strange, maybe even… special.

No, I’m not special. I’m just like everybody else.

I’m not vain, and I try not to have an ego. I want to have just the right amount of confidence—not too little, not too much. But holding hands with Sol is like a burst of sunlight in my chest, and I feel like a million bucks.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, and I realize he’s been looking at me, not the hologram in front of us, which is loudly chirping with images of the bird species that have transitioned well to life on Mars.

I smile at him. “Just about… how holding your hand makes me feel.”

He smiles back. It’s a soft thing, almost shy. I wonder if the encounter with Nico has shaken his confidence at all. I hope it hasn’t. “How does it make you feel?”

I squeeze his hand. “Well, I was just thinking that it makes me feel special, and then I felt like that was a silly thought.” I pretend to be inspecting the birds on screen, as if I don’t see them in real life almost every day, fluttering around the public atmospheres.

“It’s not a silly thought,” he says quietly. “You make me feel special too.”

Oh. I blink up at him, feeling the threat of tears starting to spill forth. When did I become so emotionally volatile? I’m not normally one to cry. “Thank you, Sol.”

“For what?” He looks at me in surprise.

“For noticing me. For being interested in me. Not many people are.”

His expression softens, his smile shaky. “Petra,” he says softly. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“No, I definitely give myself the perfect amount of credit.”

He laughs and pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me tight. “You’re funny.”

“Wrong again,” I joke weakly, as his hug temporarily stunts my air flow.

When he pulls back, I take a dramatic series of deep breaths, like a swimmer coming up for air, and it makes him grin.

Maybe I am funny.

“What do you think of these birds, huh?” he asks, nodding toward the hologram. “Pretty cool.”

“Oh no,” I say, putting my hand on his arm gently, though doing so makes my heart pound with nerves. I’ve never been this touchy with anyone before, but with him, it feels right. “You’re bored, aren’t you?”

He just shakes his head, smiling. “No, I’m not. Because I’m here with you.”

I laugh and wave off the compliment. His compliments are a little too good. “Where do you get these lines?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

“What do you mean?” he pouts in fake offense. “These are all originals. And they’re also all true.” He takes my hand again and starts leading me to the next display, which is all about how the public atmospheres work.

And there’s Nico. Again. He doesn’t see us at first, and I think Sol pretends not to see him at all, as he clearly tries to lead me through this room into the next one. But he’s there. His foster parents are engaged in a deep, quiet conversation while Nico’s eyes travel across the purple bubble of the tiny public atmosphere they built just as an interactive display.

The sight of the purple glow lighting his face softly, the focused look on his face, the way his blue eyes appear almost violet—it brings rushing back the memory of him tapping the edge of Public Atmosphere 1. How sad he looked. How empty.

His parents in that warmly lit house.

Their conversation.

The little version of him.

I feel a pang in my heart, but then he notices me getting practically dragged along into the next room, all while gawking at him like an idiot, and he laughs. My empathy for him fades.

He’s fine. It’s not my problem anyway.

We stare at each other for a moment longer, for so long that he apparently thinks it’d be funny to break up the awkwardness with a wink. My mouth drops open into an annoyed scowl that makes him grin, and then Sol and I are in the next room, and I can’t see him anymore.

One look at Sol tells me the tension has returned, but he hides it behind a stiff smile and leads me over to the interactive display at the center of the room. It’s a total photo op location, a holo jungle of plants and animals that will soon be introduced to Mars, once we have more public atmospheres set up. Ocelots wrestle by our feet, and the branches of a willow sway through us as we wander the fake environment. “This is cool,” Sol says. “Mars has so much potential.”

“And Earth?” I ask.

“It’s all been done before. Every inch explored, every mile developed. When we got to the bottom of the Mariana Trench, that was it.” He reaches up and lets his hand pass through a gaggle of holo butterflies that flutter past us. “The real growth is here, on the colony. Colonies like this one are the future.”

I look up at him. “Do you want to live on Mars, Sol?”

He turns to me, looks deep in my eyes, studying me. “Are you worried that that’s the reason I like you?”

I feel my face get hot. Am I that transparent? “Sometimes I wonder.”

A warm, reassuring smile crosses his face, and he takes both my hands now, facing me fully. The same butterflies from before float by again, passing between us this time in flickers of blue and orange. “I like you because of who you are,” he says. “And I like Mars because you’re here on it.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Well, maybe I also like Mars because it’s interesting and different from everything I’ve known so far in my life. And maybe that’s another reason I like you. To be honest, when I saw you for the first time, I just thought you were beautiful. But you’re more than that. You’re open. You don’t hide or say things you think I want to hear. You’re honest. And you ask questions you’re scared to ask. I think you’re brave.”

I stare up at him, stunned. I don’t know what to say, but he’s not done yet.

“I know we’ve basically only just met, but I do believe in love at first sight. My parents had it, so I know it’s real. And I want to know everything about you. Maybe I’m a hopeless romantic, or maybe I’m just hopeless, but I like seeing you. I like talking to you. That’s not meaningless. It has to mean something.”

Then he leans down and kisses me.

And I… Well, for all intents and purposes, I black out. My brain is screaming, cheering, freaking out, and when I finally get a hold of it, I kiss him back.

My first kiss. His first kiss. It’s like no one else in the world exists.

And I get it now. I get what Tori and Adrien are always being corny about. Why Zach is so desperate for a girlfriend. I don’t want to wait until I’m in my late twenties with a five-year plan. I don’t have to.

Because I have Sol, here with me, right now.