Trust Me When We Fall

Act One: III

Breakfast is always a chore. Mainly because that's when Nathalie runs through my schedule for the next few days.

"Basketball practice is out," she said with a sigh. "And we'll have to wait and see about fencing on Friday. You have an appointment with your doctor that morning, so we'll see what he says."

What would life be like without schedules?

"On Thursday evening your Father is hosting a fashion show." She glanced up from her phone. "He would like you to attend. As long as you're feeling up to it, of course."

"Will. . . Father be there?"

The coldness in her eyes softened a bit. "Yes, Adrien. Your Father will be attending."

I set my attention back on my nearly finished breakfast. "I think I can handle it."

"Excellent."

I glanced up to make sure Nathalie wasn't looking, then slipped the Camembert off my plate into my book bag. There goes a hundred calories I won't get. Father had me on a strict diet, so keeping Plagg happy was a sacrifice on my part. I tried not to take it out on my kwami because the little guy needed to eat too. But did it have to be Camembert? Then again, I guess it was better than chocolate chip cookies.

"Oh, and a reminder that you have a history quiz tomorrow," Nathalie said.

I pushed my empty plate forward. "Is that everything?"

Her eyes scanned the schedule one last time. "Yes, that's all."

"Guess I should head to school," I said, and slung my bag over my shoulder.

She nodded, then folded her hands together. "Have a nice day, Adrien."

Marinette, Nino, and Alya stood gathered on the front steps at school. I caught part of their conversation as I approached. The others patiently listened as Marinette gushed about a video game coming out Saturday. But not just any game. This was Mecha Strike IV.

"It's going to be amazing!" she said dreamily. "I can feel it."

"Better than III?" I asked, and stepped into the circle.

She startled when she saw me and just like that, her shyness returned. She'd always been like this, but I'd noticed it even more now that she knew I was Chat Noir.

Do I really intimidate her that much?

"Did you see the newest trailer?" I asked.

She fidgeted with the strap of her bag. "The graphics look improved, but I'm a little worried about the new Mechs they're adding."

"Oh, that's the least of your worries," I said, trying to keep a straight face.

Her eyes widened, and she glanced over at Alya and Nino uncertainly. ". . . It is?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. You should be worrying about how I'm going to kick your butt when it comes out."

She gave me a sly look, and I was a little disappointed that she didn't laugh. "That's big talk, Agreste."

Yeah. It really was. We both knew she could crush me at Mecha Strike anything, anytime.

"Not as big as the shadow of your looming defeat," I said, and struggled not to laugh.

She put her hands on her hips. "But not as big as your ego, apparently."

"Dudes, chill." Nino stepped between us. "Can we put the rivalry on hold for a minute?"