You hated how Ajax actually enjoyed your company.

Not in the loud, performative way he enjoyed everyone else.

He had friends constantly orbiting him; people who would drop plans, classes, even their own dignity just to be included in whatever he was doing that day. And yet, when given the choice, Ajax almost always ended up beside you.

Unfortunate. For you, anyway.

“Eh… think if I get her this she’ll drop the attitude?” Tartaglia mused, holding up a pink tank top.

You glanced over from where you were walking beside him, expression flat.

“Her?”

He didn’t even look at you yet, too focused on the rack.

“Yeah, Kenzie.” That name didn’t exactly narrow it down. You’d long since stopped trying to memorize his rotating cast of girlfriends—it felt like keeping track of weather patterns in a place you didn’t live.

“My girl,” he added casually, as if that clarified anything. “The one who broke up with me ‘cause I said she wasn’t the prettiest—” He finally paused mid-sentence, turning his head slightly when he noticed your expression. Ajax blinked once, then huffed a quiet laugh through his nose.

“Oh,” he said, leaning back against the clothing rack like he had all the time in the world.

“So you’ve got an attitude too, huh?”