“I’m just glad everything is okay. I mean, not that I was too worried; I figured you were off doing something fabulous. Like that time you came back a week late from summer break, because you and your mom took ‘the long way home’ from Myanmar,” Avery teased. Eris felt a pang at the memory. She and her mom had so much fun on that vacation, traipsing around Asia wearing brightly printed dresses without a care in the world.
“Anyway, I’m jealous you’re at the Nuage,” Avery was saying. “We should start sleeping over at your place so we can wear those fluffy robes and order ricotta-blackberry pancakes in the morning!”
“Absolutely,” Eris agreed, with false brightness.
They stepped out of the doors and onto the lawn in front of school, where manicured green grass sloped down toward Madison Avenue. A chorus of voices instantly surrounded them, Ming and Risha and Leda all debating how to spend the afternoon, exchanging gossip and stories from the day. Eris just stood there and let it wash over her. When the group decided on yoga and smoothies at Altitude Club, she let herself be swept along, nodding and smiling with the rest of them. She needed this time with Avery and her friends, doing what they always did. She needed to pretend that everything was normal, that her life wasn’t crashing down around her. That she was still Eris Dodd-Radson.
As they walked past the tech-net—the boundary surrounding campus that caused all contacts, tablets, and other nonacademic hardware to go dark—Eris immediately pulled up her inbox. It was delusional, she knew, but she kept hoping for something from her dad. She got that he needed space, but still … was this really how it would be from now on? What if they never spoke again?
The top message in her inbox made her cringe. It was from the Altitude Club’s member services desk: a courtesy notification that her membership had been discontinued.
Eris was overwhelmed by a sudden flush of anger. Her mom had done this—she’d been the one to insist they join Altitude in the first place, the one who managed all their memberships and social appointments and everything else that was fun or luxurious in their lives. Of course, Eris knew her mom didn’t want to spend any of Everett’s money anymore; that was the whole point of moving. But what harm would it really do if Eris stayed on his Altitude membership?
Then she thought of what her mom had said, about letting her dad set the tone of their relationship moving forward, and she realized that might be the reason Caroline didn’t want Eris at Altitude. So that she wouldn’t risk running into Everett there.
This is really happening, she thought, a little stunned, though of course she had known it was coming. Her life was falling apart before her eyes, piece by gilded piece.
She opened her mouth to say something but no sound came out. And what could she tell her friends anyway? “Sorry, guys, I can’t come to Altitude because I’m too poor”? Everyone piled on the elevator to 930, shuffling a helpless Eris along with them. She kept nodding, not registering what anyone was saying. Her mind whirred with excuses to extricate herself, each wilder and more frantic than the last. That she had to go intern at her dad’s office again. That Cord had booty-called her. That her parents had grounded her after Saturday’s party and put a location-monitor on her contacts so they would know her every movement.
They started down the oak-shaded cobblestone lane that led to the Altitude entrance. Eris felt dizzy, her breath coming in abbreviated gasps. She couldn’t walk in—couldn’t face the pity on Jeffrey’s face as he politely but firmly told her she wasn’t allowed inside, the knowing glances and hushed whispers her friends would exchange once they realized the truth. She felt sick at the prospect. But it was as if her feet were moving of their own accord, drawing her ever closer to her own destruction, a weak mechanical smile pasted on her face. She watched as Risha and Leda headed into the elevator and up to the yoga level. Ming hung back, waiting for Avery, who was looking at Eris, a questioning expression on her face—
“I don’t feel well,” Eris blurted out. “I think I’m gonna head home.”
“Are you sure?” Avery frowned.
Ming let out a single, bitter laugh. “Don’t worry, Aves. She’s totally just going for an afternoon workout session of her own. At Cord’s.”
Eris flinched at that. Normally she didn’t let Ming’s little barbs get to her, but with everything else that was happening, it was hard to maintain her calm. And why was Ming calling Avery “Aves” anyway? Everyone knew that was Atlas’s nickname for her.
“That was kind of rude of you,” Eris said, trying not to sound defensive. “I really don’t feel great.”
“Chill out, Eris, it was just a joke.” Ming narrowed her eyes. “You do look pretty terrible, though, come to think of it.”
“Oh my god, leave me alone!” Eris snapped, all niceties gone.
Ming looked to Avery as if expecting her to argue, but Avery just sighed. “I’ll meet you upstairs,” she said, not looking at Ming, digging through her bright red hobo bag. Ming tossed her head angrily and marched into the elevator. “Here we go!” Avery triumphantly produced a silver mediwand.
Eris recoiled. “It’s fine, really,” she insisted. But Avery was already waving the wand over Eris’s head and torso, her wrist flicking as if it were a toy. After a moment the wand beeped, having quickly detected and summarized all Eris’s vital signs, and the bulb at the end of it lit up a bright telltale green. The sign of perfect health.
“Look, you’re clearly just tired.” Avery sounded infuriatingly calm. “Why don’t you come sit by the pool instead? Maybe get a facial while we’re at yoga? Then you can still meet us for smoothies afterward.”
“No, thanks,” Eris repeated, her voice strained.
“You didn’t need to snap at Ming,” Avery admonished gently. “I know her joke was lame, but I don’t think she meant any harm by it.”
Eris shook her head, overwhelmed by a sudden bitter anger. Avery didn’t get it. She was the same as she’d always been, still sailing effortlessly above everyone else’s sordid little problems up there in her thousandth-floor palace, while Eris had lost everything. In their whole lifetime of friendship, Eris had never truly resented Avery until this moment. “You know, I really don’t feel well,” she repeated, overemphasizing each word. “I’m going home.” She saw Jeffrey meet her eyes knowingly, and felt like she might scream.
“Okay. Call me later?” Avery asked, worried, but she didn’t press any further. Eris turned back out of the entryway, contemplating the long, dismal trip to 103.
She hadn’t made it halfway down the block before everything was blurry. She wiped angrily at the tears, but they were coming faster now, in ugly jagged sobs, and the only thing she could do was turn blindly into a side alley and try to pull herself together.
Who was she anymore, anyway? She couldn’t be Eris Dodd. The name didn’t fit her any better than the stuffy, cramped apartment down on 103. Eris crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself tight, and took a few deep breaths to regain control. At least this alley was hidden enough from the main street that no other Altitude members had seen her breakdown.
“I wouldn’t have guessed you’re the type to sit around crying.”
Eris looked up to see Mariel in front of her, hand on hip, wearing jeans and a tight-fitting tank top. “What, are you stalking me or something?”
“Shocking, I know, but the world doesn’t revolve around you.” Mariel gestured at the door behind Eris. “You’re blocking the service entrance.”
Eris stepped aside, racking her brain for a witty comeback, but none came.
“Thanks.” Mariel walked past. “If you’re looking for a better place to cry about your club membership, there’s a nice closet in here.”
“You have no idea what I’m going through, okay?” Eris shot back. “You don’t know what it’s like to have your family—your entire world—just fall apart.”
Mariel stood in the doorway, her eyes locked on Eris, who shifted uncomfortably under the weight of her gaze. After a moment Mariel shook her head. “You’d be surprised,” she said. The door shut automatically behind her.
* * *