.ne M0re Numb3r {Yoya}

I cringed as I watched the sandwich hit the kid’s face in what felt like slow-motion. Did he not hear my warning? I thought I had been clear with my warning, but I guess the bustling crowd managed to diffuse the shout. I almost wanted to feel bad until he gave me this glare. Wow, what’s his problem? I raised my eyebrow, confused at what was upsetting him. It didn’t look like he wanted any company, but I said the hell with it and pushed myself off my bench.

It took a few glances left and right before I saw it was safe to cross, but I made it through the still busy path and stood in front of him. “Hey, kid,” I started again. “Sorry about that. I thought you heard my 'heads up'.” I then sat myself down next to him—standing took too much energy—and gave him a lazy grin. “I’m Stellar, by the way. Yeah, I know. It’s a terrible name. What can I do though, am I right?” I nudged him a little, hoping to get some response. Man, he was starting to look as angsty as Red. I just hoped he didn’t yell at me as much as Red did.

I bent over to pick up the sandwich in its bag and handed it to him. “I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said you looked like you could do with a bite. Here,” I motioned at the sandwich. “I swear it’s not poisonous. See? I even have the other half right here.” I looked curiously at the kid, trying to understand his numbers. They didn’t look too good, but numbers could always change. I lazily grabbed at 2e5+3.58 before it could flee and join with 1.395π, and brought it closer to my body.

Man, this kid was difficult to please. I wasn’t kidding when I said he was like Red, but Red was filled with anger. This kid was just…difficult. He refused the other half of my sandwich with two words, and I shrugged my shoulders. Maybe he really wasn’t hungry or maybe he was an idiot. Either way, I pocketed the other half—it would be my dinner for that night.

He looked at me with those damn eyes that were telling me something that I wasn’t exactly sure. I was never good with understanding emotions, using numbers to tell me how the person was feeling. But all I saw in his eyes were broken numbers that were struggling to piece together to give me a damn equation I could work with. It was so disconcerting, I had to look away to reset my mind.

Was there anything I could possibly say to this kid? “You don’t want me here, I get that. My younger brother says that to me all the time. But kid, I really hope you have someone you can talk to.” I paused, taking a bit of my sandwich. “Anyone. Doesn’t have to be me. Doesn’t have to be family. Just one person you can let it all out and they’ll listen.” I turned my head toward him and gave him a small smile. “I’ll leave you alone if you let me finish my sandwich here.”

My smile grew as he nodded his head and even made some more space for me on the bench. It wasn’t really a victory, but it was definitely some progress. I wasn’t going to badger him any more since I already told him I would leave him alone, so I took a big bite of my sandwich and resumed people watching. The rush of the lunch hour was starting to thin out and soon the buzz of equations flying by became louder than the buzz of people. I was content with eating on the bench in silence when I heard his voice again.

He’s talking to me? was my first thought as I looked at him just in time to see him look at his feet. Was that red on his cheeks? He did have rather pale skin so it wasn’t a big surprise that any color would show so well. “Yeah, I am,” the smile on my face coming back. I was just happy that he was even talking to me. “Let me guess: you know one of my siblings or cousins from school or something.” Or from the Games, I finished in my mind. The thought of my younger cousin and brother in the arena caused the smile in my eyes to dim.

I hoped he recognized that I was Jay because of the former; my family was so big that if someone from District 9 didn’t know a Jay, then they probably knew an extended family member with a different last name. But ever since Jabber and Storm were reaped, I realized that the name became more well-known for a different reason. I remained silent as I took another bite of my sandwich. Please let it be that he knows Fawn. Or Mocking. Or Mist. Or any of the cousins. Just let it be that.

I took a quick look at him to see a tear rolling down his face, and I turned away before I found myself staring at him. Did I cause that? I really hoped that wasn’t the case, but I couldn’t help but nibble at the sandwich with a tinge of worry. I looked back at him to see him giving me something like a smile. I tilted my head curiously as bemusement crossed my face. What was making him smile?

I wasn’t complaining; he had been sullen since the moment I saw him, so a smile was a nice surprise. There was really only one reason he would be smiling at me: I had it worse than he did. It wasn’t a mean smile, but rather a compassionate one, a smile that had numbers that I had imprinted in my brain by that point. I was never good with images, but I had seen that smile enough that I could never forget it.

“The Games, then,” I said with a half-assed smile on my face that felt more like a smirk. It wasn't meant to be, but maybe I had spent too many years with that smirk. “Just curious, do I look more like Jabber or Storm?” It was a trick question. Despite have trademark Jay features, most of us didn’t look anything like each other—except Mocking. Relatives would always get Mocking and I confused when we were little boys, but as he spent more time outside and I grew more sickly, we became easier to tell apart.

He didn’t seem responsive and went back to looking down. Maybe I had hit a nerve with my question? I didn’t really understand how, but then again, I knew nothing about this kid. I didn’t have his name, I didn’t have his intentions for sitting here, all I could see were the numbers and equations that were supporting his structure. I shrugged it off. I told him I would leave him alone as long as I could finish my lunch.

I was almost done and while I didn’t think it was a good idea to leave him alone on the bench, I wasn’t going to go back on my word. I finished the last bite and slowly chewed, but I knew I wasn’t going to make any progress. Once I swallowed that last bite, I stood up and turned to him. “Well, kid, thanks for letting me sit on this bench. I should probably head back to work.” Do I shake his hand? It didn’t seem like he was the type who would want any human contact and I wasn’t going to push it. Not anymore.