The conversation was somewhat enlightening, but so far no one knew how to fix this. Lupe was from the future, just like them, but she wasnât here officially like he and a few others were. When he looked up from Lupeâs eyes, he laid eyes on the one person he loved seeing. Sometimes he could get lost in those eyes, but they moved away almost as soon as they met. Odd. Olivier played it off like it didnât hurt and turned to smile and bid farewell to Lupe.
Olivier had a habit of running his hand through the white patch in his hair, but heâd dyed it and it was like he could feel it was wrong. It made him not himself, so maybe thatâs why it seemed off when his eyes met Arloâs. Still, he didnât hesitate to move over to the man with a sly smile on his face. The smile grows when he spots his mother out of the corner of his eye, but fades immediately when he hears Arlo speak.
âDoes it? It kind of just feels⌠weirdly nostalgic to me.â Oli leans against the wall close to Arlo, wanting desperately to greet him the way he usually does, but knows better. âAre you all right?â
As confidently as Olivier strutted down the hallway, Arlo could still feel some unrest through their psi-bond. He didnât think he could feel worse, but at the moment he definitely felt like pure shit for making Oli feel self-conscious. If he knew what was really going on in Arloâs mind right now, he would be more upset and Arlo couldnât risk that. Not when they needed to stay focused, when the fate of the world depended on them not taking everything in this time personal.
Clearly, he was already failing at that.
Grunting at Oliâs response, he shrugs his shoulders. If he said he was alright then Oli would know he was lying within seconds, but he was too tired to come up with anything more convincing. It was like he was digging his heels in deeper and creating a bigger problem which is what he was good at. âYeah Iâm fine,â he says with a bit of annoyance in his voice. âHave you got any class assignments yet? I feel like the old man can see right though me. Iâm not studying, Iâm not teaching.â Grumbling, he moves around his friend and barely brushes his arm against his. âIâm starting to feel like that twenty-something year old guy that still hangs out with highschoolers.â