Chloe asks Bobby about his interests, making him realize none of them are good.

Hobbies

"I've talked a lot about my plans today. I feel like I've talked your ears off." Chloe chuckled and rolled her shoulders back. "So, how about you? I know your hobbies, but I'd like to learn more about them from my fellow ambassador."

Bobby blinked and raised his head. His hand fell off his cheek and into his lap. He stared at the tiny girl across from him, her many blueprints for potential spaceships having been pushed aside when she asked the question. She even put her hands on her neck and leaned forward, staring at him with wide, dark green eyes full of intrigue and waited for his answer.

Chloe's question jarred him. He had been listening to her talk about her latest schematics. While he had only been able to catch maybe two out of five words when she spoke, it was nice hearing her talk so passionately about her project. Even if the conversation had been one-sided, mostly with him nodding along and smiling or asking a simple question about what little he knew about rockets, Bobby was happy to have someone to hang out with on the slower days at summer camp.

But he never expected her to turn the tables. Asking him about his hobbies was like walking on a minefield. Any of the topics he liked spurred disgust from his peers. Even the counselors looked at him with poorly concealed contempt during class when he laughed about killing woodland critters with a perfectly timed PSI blast on one of his walks.

Although he reveled in those reactions, he found himself fiddling with the hem of his stained jersey in front of her. He didn't want to offend Chloe by talking about lowbrow shows or gory movies. He didn't want to see her face scrunch up in disdain like the other campers would when he'd mention the brutal kills in Texas Chainsaw Massacre or how he collected photographs of the diseased, mangled roadkill outside of his parents' trailer and stuck them around the Boys' Cabin.

"I, uh, like…" He trailed off and rubbed his neck. His eyes lingered around the lodge but found no help. Chef Cruller was making something inedible on the grill, the sound of his spatula scraping against the cold metal grating his ears. Crossing his ankles underneath the picnic table, he glanced at the media room, hearing the high-pitched voices of cartoon characters, Maloof and Mikhail having secured that area for themselves.

Chloe's voice dragged his attention back to her. "Is your species not allowed to discuss that topic? Is it private?"

He shook his head too quickly, and the room spun. "N-no, no, I'm just, uh…" He tightened his grip on his neck, and his uneven fingernails pierced into his skin. "...thinkin' about stuff."

"Like what?" She tilted her head, her helmet shifting with her.

He drummed his fingers on the table. Tiny splinters pricked back. Bobby cleared his throat, his brow furrowing as Chloe trained her eyes on him. He couldn't think of what to say. Despite racking his brain for anything appropriate, nothing he could have said sounded normal.

"How often do you pick locks? Is that a common trait of your species?" Chloe suddenly asked, focusing on his fingers.

Bobby's eyes lit up. "Oh! Oh, yeah. Picking locks is way easy," he replied, breaking into a lopsided grin. He rested his elbow on the table and cupped his cheek. "It's like a game, ya know? Fiddling with those, uh, inner mechanisms of the lock and getting everything just right to pop it open."

"Just like working on a shuttle," Chloe said, nodding.

"Exactly! Or like cracking a code." He leaned back, his anxiety ebbing away. "Ya ever try it?"

"My telekinesis isn't as accurate as yours as you can see," Chloe said, setting two fingers to the side of her helmet. She narrowed her eyes on her blueprints, deep in concentration and summoned a light purple telekinetic hand, one much smaller than Bobby's. It quivered, its fingers twitching as she tried making it grab her blueprints only for it to fizzle away like a puff of smoke. Smoothing down the new wrinkles in her plans, she added, "But if I work on it more, I'm sure I'll have that precision."

"I can help ya!" he blurted, showing off more of his green gums. "I mean, well, I ain't as good in pickin' up heavy stuff, but if you wanna be more detailed with telekinesis, I'm your guy." He cupped his hand around his mouth and lowered his voice. "If you wanna break into Crazy Cruller's locker in his crappy hut, then that's the best way to start. He keeps all the confiscated stuff in there."

"He does?" Chloe asked, surprising him. He thought she would have gently reprimanded him for suggesting they steal from him. He also could have sworn she was pouting behind her helmet, which was notably very cute. She crossed her arms and glared at the floorboards. "Coach Oleander took my phone. I was in the middle of altering some of its programming to connect to satellites when he snatched it from me after catching me he working on it after lights out."

"He did? Jackass," Bobby seethed in a hushed whisper. His fists clenched. He knew Oleander was a moron who couldn't understand how brilliant Chloe was for working on a scientific project like that. He certainly couldn't fathom any of those electronic doodads, not that his parents could afford them, but her talent for creating something out of nothing always impressed him.

"Affirmative. I would like to retrieve it." She cupped her hands around the sides of her helmet. "But only my phone. We shouldn't take the others' belongings."

He nodded. Cocking his head at the front door behind him, he asked, "Ya wanna give it a try now? The coot's gonna be carving at the grill for another half hour."

She shared in his conspiracy with a tiny grin. Collecting her blueprints, she compiled them in a neat stack and offered them to him. Bobby carefully rolled them into a tube before shoving them in his hair, which had quickly become Chloe's preferred place for her personal belongings from the prying eyes of the Girls' Cabin.

It made him smile knowing she trusted him that much despite not knowing him for too long. Others who really knew him made the right choice in staying far, far away from him.

Someone as cool as Chloe, who looked up at him with big, shining eyes and asked him if he was ready to go, made him feel like he was the king of the world. He nodded and followed behind her as they left the lodge, more than happy to let her lead the way on their private mission, and he truly believed she was the only one trying to understand him.