Four hours later, Eris had stayed upTower as long as she could. She’d roamed through her favorite boutiques, pretending to consider dresses and bags she could no longer pay for. It felt fantastic at first, the rush of salesgirls locating designs they had pulled for her, the reassuring clack of their heels on the floor, the cold glasses of orange water they handed to her while she reviewed the scans of each design on her 3-D body projection. Yeah, it all felt fantastic—until they started to get serious about placing orders, and Eris had to mutter an excuse and flee the store.
She’d gone to Hyacinthe, her favorite organic grocery shop, to try the free samples they put out at dinnertime. She’d even gone to the download storefront and ordered a hot foam latte just so she could sit in the comfy chair for a while and flip through magazines on their tablets. It felt weird, really, spending the afternoon alone with nothing but her thoughts. But by now it was late, and Eris was running out of places to go.
She’d flickered Cord a couple of times, but he hadn’t answered. He was probably napping or playing a holo-game, or smoking up with friends. She hadn’t slept over since before his party, she realized; less than a week, but after everything that had happened, it felt like a lifetime ago.
Eris stood up with a sigh, about to head home. But the thought of the smell and the roaches and, most of all, of having to talk to her mom froze her feet in place. Before she’d consciously changed her mind she was already turning around and on her way to Cord’s.
The front door swung open as Eris stepped onto his doorstep; she’d been on the approved entry list for months. “Cord?” she called out, venturing inside. He wasn’t in the living room, though she saw a bunch of stuff that didn’t look like his strewn out on the couches. Brice was in town, then.
She found Cord in his bedroom, leaning back on his expensive down pillows as he read something on a tablet. Strange, she hadn’t seen him read all that often before. Maybe ever.
“Eris,” he said, seeing her there. “What are you …”
“I wanted to pay you a visit.” She pulled the door shut behind her.
“This isn’t a good time, actually.” Cord’s gaze was distant, not with the distracted look of being on contacts, but truly lost in thought. Eris felt a little flutter of anxiety. She wondered if her eyes were still red-rimmed from crying earlier. Screw it, she thought, and reached for the top button of her oxford shirt. Then she walked slowly toward the bed, as she carefully, sensually, undid the buttons of her shirt one by one. But Cord’s eyes didn’t light up in appreciation the way they usually did.
When the shirt was undone, revealing her pink lace bra beneath, Eris climbed onto the bed next to him. He wasn’t doing anything, she thought, a little panicked, not turning out the lights or reaching up to touch her or anything. “Eris—” he said, but she leaned forward to cover his mouth with hers, reaching for the hem of his shirt and starting to pull it up.
He allowed the kiss for a moment before resting his hands on her shoulders and pushing her gently to the side. “I’m serious,” he said, and there was a new edge to his voice. “Not now.”
Eris knew that was her cue to leave, to laugh and put her shirt back on as if nothing was wrong—but she couldn’t do it. Cord’s rejection had shaken loose whatever tendrils of control she had left. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. She tried furiously to will them away. The last thing she wanted was to let Cord see her cry.
“Can I just stay here a little?” she asked, her voice small. She didn’t even care about hooking up with Cord, she just wanted to snuggle under the thousand-thread-count sheets on his ultrafoam mattress, and wake up to the morning sun streaming in through his windows.
“Is everything okay? Do you want me to call Avery?” he answered. Eris felt like she’d been slapped. She understood the subtext: Whatever you’re going through, I’m not dealing with it. Cord only wanted fun, flirty, happy Eris, not any of the other Erises that came along with her. She knew they weren’t officially dating, that he wasn’t her boyfriend or anything, but she’d thought that by now Cord cared about her a little—at the very least the way a friend would.
“Do you have any feelings for me at all?” she blurted out, and winced as soon as she said the words; she’d sounded shrill and clingy. “Never mind. Forget it,” she stammered, but it was too late.
Cord was sitting up straight, looking her in the eye. “Eris, I’m so sorry,” he said, as sincere as she’d ever heard him. “I thought we were on the same page.”
“We are!” she cried out, but he was shaking his head.
“I thought we were just having fun. I can’t do anything serious right now. I’m sorry,” he said again, sounding regretful. “I think it’s best if we end things, before we do any more damage.”
Eris started to reply, to tell him that she was fine keeping things casual, but something stopped her. She couldn’t bear to lose what little pride she still had left. With quick, concise movements she buttoned her top and tossed her hair. “Sure. See you around,” she added, in as normal a voice as she could manage.
“See you.” There was a note of grudging respect in Cord’s tone, as if he hadn’t expected her to take everything so easily.
On her way out the front door, Eris realized that she would almost certainly be off the retinal scanner’s admit list starting tomorrow. Oh well, she thought, with a surprising lack of emotion. She was far less upset about the breakup—if it even counted as a breakup when you weren’t really dating—than she’d thought she’d be.
Maybe because it seemed so unimportant, in light of everything she’d already lost.
LEDA
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Leda stood at the East Asian rock garden on the edge of campus. It was quiet here, and cold. Hardly anyone ever came this way. The only sounds were those of the tiny garden-bot, raking the stones into a rippled pattern, and a fountain burbling cheerfully in the corner.
She was waiting for Avery. They both had chemistry lab this period; they’d made sure of it when they picked classes last spring. They always scheduled their science classes together, and they always met here at the Zen garden before the first lab session, to walk over together and make sure they were partners. It had been their tradition since eighth grade.
Leda paced tight circles around the garden, watching the time on her school-issued tablet, waiting as long as she dared. Her contacts didn’t work within school grounds, so she couldn’t reach Avery. The garden-bot started to undo the swirls it had raked, replacing them with tiny squares. Real natural sunlight, filtered from outside the Tower using a system of mirrors, spilled through the skylight overhead. Leda bit her lip, frustrated. What a pointless garden. How could anyone feel Zen with this stupid thing constantly raking the stones?
Avery wasn’t coming. Leda needed to go—but first she stepped forward and gave the bot a sudden, violent kick. It sailed in an arc through the air, landing on its back with a satisfying crunch. Its wheels spun helplessly. If Avery had been there, she would have laughed. The thought only made Leda feel more upset. She left the bot there and hurried toward the science wing.
She made it to chemistry just as the three-tone chime sounded the beginning of class, only to find that Avery was already in the second row, her long legs crossed negligently in front of her. “Hey,” Leda hissed as she slid into the empty seat next to her friend. “I looked for you at the garden. Did you forget?”