CHAPTER NINE.
WELCOME TO WASHINGTON D.C.

AMELIA'S another century car was trying its best to stay alive as Monika pressed the accelerator harder. Amelia, strapped in the passenger seat, caught her head in her hands. Between the beastly growl of the vehicle and Gemma's helicopter fretting over the way Amelia had packed, the black-haired girl was sure she was about to have an aneurysm.

"Amy," Gemma said, poking Amelia's shoulder incessantly from the backseat. "Amy. Amy. Amyyyy ─ "

Amelia groaned. "What?" she said.

"Why didn't you let me pack for you?" Gemma asked.

Amelia perked up in an instant, looking around. "Do you hear that sound?" she asked.

Gemma, eyebrows knitted in confusion, looked around, too. "What sound?"

"Do you hear it? Listen." She tapped her ear with her index finger. "It's the sound of me ignoring you."

Gemma huffed and punched her in the arm. Amelia let out a small Ow! but then went back to nursing the coffee cup in her hand, her only solace in this car full of maniacs. It was always like this. On days when Amelia had to go somewhere important or do something important ─ it was Monika who drove the car. Amelia wasn't religious and she definitely wasn't superstitious either. But there were rituals. Old as friendships.

And every time Amelia had something important, Gemma became a worrier. She was a worrier anyhow, but she became even more so when things like these came up. Helicopter friend-ing, Monika called it. Amelia boldly agreed.

"Well," Monika said, easing up on the accelerator as they arrived by the school, "we're not going back because you realized you forgot something again."

The car stopped. Amelia turned towards Monika and glared. "You take care of my car or I'll break your fingers, heal them, then break them again."

"Okay," Monika whistled lowly before they all exited. Amelia's eyes drifted to the ticking watch on her wrist as she constantly kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Gemma handed her the gym bag and Amelia shrugged it on, the strap digging in her shoulder, biting her skin under the sun.

Her head was on a swivel as she counted the people near the bus, then bit her lip and looked around, craning her neck in expectation. Where was Peter? He'd said he was gonna be here, so where was he? And now Amelia caught herself. Why was she so eagerly looking for him? Why was she so restless at the thought that he wouldn't show? A shiver went down her body as she tried to shake herself out of this vulnerable state.

Seeing Amelia's hyper-active state, Monika shot her a look. "How much coffee have you had?"

"A lot," she answered. To make a point, she took a big gulp of her coffee. "Alright, okay, I'm ready." She looked at the bus and all the students wearing the school blazer then shook her head. "Nope, not ready. No, no, no."

She turned to sit back in the car but Gemma caught her arm. "Hey, hey, Amy," she said, in the softest voice possible, "you're gonna be fine." And the way Gemma said it made Amelia want to believe it. "You're gonna be more than fine. You're gonna be great."

"Yeah," Monika chimed in, leaning against the car. "You're gonna ace it."

Amelia exhaled. She looked at her friends ─ the reassuring smiles and encouraging nods -- and let a nervous smile sit on her face. "Okay," she said, nodding to herself. "Okay."

"Okay?" Gemma asked, shaking her a little and Amelia hummed. "Come on, now. Don't wanna miss the bus."

Amelia waved at her friends before joining her classmates by the bus. They greeted her and she reciprocated before watching her friends drive away over her shoulder. She was gonna miss them. It was difficult being away from them, even if only for two days. Six months into her friendship with both girls ─ Amelia had realized how intrinsic part of her the girl's had become. She did everything with them. A pang of guilt always hit her when she thought of this ─ how her home wasn't with her parents but with them. These girls who were doubtlessly as screwed as her and still, they made each other feel like floating. Holding hands against the raising wave of the ocean of life ─ together, they could face anything.

"Hey, it's Peter," Abe said.

Amelia looked up and sunlight stabbed her eyes. She squinted and caught Peter's eyes -- he was already looking at her. A smile formed on her face ─ comforted and warm. Peter returned it with conscious happiness. He felt when it reached him ─ the warmth of her smile, the brightness of it. It made the early morning September coldness wash away. "Guys," he said, coming to a stop beside Ned.

"Peter?" Liz asked, confused.

"Hey, buddy," Charles greeted him.

"I was hoping I could rejoin the team," Peter said but it sounded more like a question.

"No, no way," Flash argued, moving forward to point angrily at the Parker boy who took a few steps back out of fear. "You can't quit on us . . . stroll up and be welcomed back by everyone."

"Hey, welcome back, Peter!" Mr. Harrington greeted Peter, stepping out of the bus. "Flash, you're back to first alternate."

"What?"

"He's taking your place," Abe told him. 

Amelia giggled with the others but hid her smile behind her cardigan's loose sleeve. Peter glanced at her at the sound ─ it made him feel butterflies in his stomach, taking flight.

"Excuse me, can we go already?" MJ asked from the back. "I was hoping to get in some protesting in front of an embassy before dinner."

"Protesting is patriotic," Mr. Harrington agreed before hustling everyone forward. "Let's get on the bus." 

Flash shrugged off his school blazer reluctantly and shoved it in Peter's hands. They all boarded on by one, Peter hanging back when he caught Amelia's amused eyes at the whole interaction. She smirked, shaking her head at him before boarding the bus. Peter followed suit.

ROAD trips always made Amelia feel nostalgic and sleepy, too, but mostly nostalgic. Owing it largely to the music that played over her earphones ─ The Japanese House and Bon Iver and Phoebe Bridgers were really something. Amelia propped her elbow on the door, the fully rolled down window allowing sunlight to warm her freezing nose. She got cold too quickly. As they sped down the road her eyes flitted up, intuitively fixing on the green sign that said WASHINGTON ─ 126.

Amelia had a notepad propped open on her knee against the back of the seat in front of her ─ Ned's. As soon as her playlist ended she pulled her headphones down. Liz was at the head of the bus, standing and quizzing. Amelia stared at her. She didn't know what she was trying to do at first, but when she did she caught herself again. She was trying to figure out why Peter liked her. She was beautiful, and she was smart. She was also a senior, so there was that. Amelia glanced at Peter. He was sitting six seats ahead of her and eagerly answering Liz's questions.

She cocked her head to the side in curious, it was a very Amelia-like movement. She didn't know she did it but Gemma had told her so. She exhaled through her nose, as if annoyed. She didn't understand why. She didn't try to. It was a fluke, a mistake. She went back to the notepad in front of her.

 The rustle of paper, the faint sound of the edges of her palm rubbing against the pages, and the constant rough scratching of her pencil as she transferred her dreams to paper were the only few sounds in the back of the bus.

She saw the road in her dreams. The road where the accident had happened. The mishap struggled to find its new home in graphite on the grainy paper ─ she wondered, how does one draw sounds? How does one draw feelings? How does one draw fear? There was something so blatantly frightening in the scene she drew. A totaled car with rising smoke and leaping fire, licking the engine. The shattered windshield and the two sisters who had been thrown out through it. The smaller one straining her arm, reaching for the older one. 

Amelia stopped her hand and held her breath, taking in the surreal vision of the nightmare ─ her nightmare. She blew over her lips and her head hit the back of the seat, eyes closing instinctively.

Peter, for once, couldn't sleep on the bus, which was odd, because he usually could so he had taken to answering most of Liz's questions. There was nothing else to do but. His phone rang and he stared at the shattered screen to find Happy calling. What now? he wondered as he excused himself to take the call, walking down the aisles to the back.

Ned was sitting, his back towards the windows and still looking at where the tracker had stopped in Maryland. In the seat behind him was Amelia. Her black hair, loosely braided laid hung over her shoulder, her head against the window, earphones in. Her pupils dancing behind closed eyes ─ was she was dreaming?

Happy, on the other hand, was suspicious about Peter's motives for leaving New York. Peter grimaced, remembering the tracker on his suit. He assured Happy that it was a school trip and that it was not a big deal. Really, it was nothing.

Slowly, so as to not wake her up, Peter settled in beside Amelia. She shifted, blinked, and turned her head to look at him. So she hadn't been sleeping. She shifted to give him more room. Their knees touched. Peter didn't take quite so much care. For the first ten minutes on the first day, Peter had been polite, but it quickly become clear that Amelia didn't mind when his leg touched hers. Peter was all right with that.

"Happy, I gotta say," Peter continued with his call, "tracking me without permission . . . is a complete violation of privacy." He looked up when Ned pointed to what they had been doing and whispered, "That's different." He continued to try and convince Happy. "Nothing. Look, it's just the Academic Decathlon. It's no big deal." He made a face, not amused at whatever Happy said, then pulled the phone down from his ear when he hung up. That guy seriously needs to go out more, Peter thought looking at his phone, the indoors make him grumpy.

"Who was that?" Amelia asked, her voice heavy. She hadn't spoken since they had started the drive, her mouth was dry. She licked her lips.

Peter said, "Uh, Happy, he ─ " then he looked up at Amelia and his eyes softened. His heart softened. "Nevermind that," he said. "What are you listening to?"

Amelia pulled one earphone out and offered it to him. He put it in his ear and glanced at Amelia's phone as she pressed play again. The display said THE NIGHT WE MET and Peter smiled. Amelia yawned and lay her head on his shoulder, eyes closed. Everything was the same as before, but for some reason, Peter's heart was thumping. He saw goosebumps through the loopy crocheted cardigan Amelia wore. She reached to take a handful of both his shirt and the school blazer he wore over it, and tugged them both to her like blankets.

THE hotel they arrived at was enormous and Amelia spun once as she took in the view.

"Everyone stick together," Liz said and Mr. Harrington agreed.

"You kidding me?" Charles said, taking in the size of the place. "This place is huge."

"I've seen bigger," Flash bragged.

"There's a bird in here," Abe pointed.

While Liz and Mr. Harrington went to the desk to get them signed and set up, Amelia heard her name being shouted and drew her attention. She turned, expectant, and gasped at the sight. Beaumont Auclair was beaming at her.

"Hi," she gushed and hugged him. A laugh bubbled as he picked her up and twirled her around. She smiled up at him as he set her down. She stared. He looked the same ─ the towhead blond hair, the sparkling blue eyes, that same crooked smile. "God, I've missed you."

"Aww," he pouted and put his arm around her shoulder pulling her closer. Beaumont Auclair was an old friend of Amelia's from when she lived here, in D.C. They had known each other since they were kids and had gone to the same schools. She glanced at him, in his grey blazer with Hilton Academy crest on it.

Peter was watching the interaction from a distance with a sort of curious interest. He had rarely ever seen Amelia so animated ─ so different from herself, so afar. She didn't seem like Amelia at all.

"So," Amelia asked Beau, still tucked under his arm, "are you liking Hellton?"

"Oh, it's fine," he said. "It's very what's-the-word-for-it?" he asked, glancing down at her. "Another word for self-righteous?"

"Uh, holier-than-thou," she suggested.

"No, more derogatory."

She exhaled in amusement and said, "Um, sanctimonious?"

"Sanctimonious. God, Mia," he said, "you're gonna win this thing, huh?"

"What? No," she scoffed. "Man, we'd be going up against Helltons! There's no way."

"And Helltons would be going up against you." She was still shaking her head, but more in embarrassment now. "Come on," he said, "how much do you wanna bet that you win?"

"What? Why would I do that?"

"Come on, Mia." He jumped up and down a little. "For old time's sake."

Amelia looked at him, contemplating and he pouted exaggeratedly. She burst out into laughter. "Okay, okay," she said. "What do you wanna bet?"

"Hmm, how about whoever wins swims in the Willow Lake tomorrow night."

Amelia's mouth opened, the offer was incredibly tempting. "Deal," she said, without a second thought.

"Fine," he nodded.

"Fine."

"Come on, guys, let's go!" Liz's voice called for them to follow her.

Amelia did the gesture for I'm watching you with her fingers and her eyes and Beau poked his tongue at her. She joined the group then, as they ascended the flights of stairs. Mr. Harrington handed her the key to her room and she gripped it in her fist.

Peter felt colder than he had before. He thought about the bus and Amelia's head on his shoulder. Then he looked at her. Amelia caught his eyes and gave him a dazzling smile. God, he thought, what the hell? He couldn't understand this. He returned the smile, albeit his wasn't as hypnotizing. Amelia Song had him thinking and re-thinking everything he did or said and he was not liking any bit of it. As she skipped ahead, he wondered when she gonna notice him, if ever.