The buzz of the airport terminal served as a muted backdrop to Elliot's tightly-held enthusiasm. His large eyes glimmered with a hint of awe as he settled into the vacant chair next to me, his demeanor a sharp contrast to the doubt he had previously shown.
"You should of won," he said bluntly.
I tilted my head a little, just enough to see him through the openings of my mask. "Ah?"
He leaned forward, hands clasped, his voice lowering. "The library competition. You should've won."
A slow blink. "I see."
"I mean, come on!" His voice carried a hint of indignation, but not directed at me. "Everyone saw it. Your score was perfect—PERFECT. And they still passed you over? The judges were biased, I'm telling you."
I hummed, neither confirming nor denying his statement.
Elliot continued, undeterred. "That mechanics portion? That was insane. No one solves that without looking."
