Nadia hacked it. Funny, she realized, Nadia must be what he called his little illegal toy.
She snooped around his room for a while longer, looking for the computer itself, so she could steal it; but after a half hour of searching she gave up. It didn’t really matter whether or not she had the actual computer. She had the ultimate blackmail card over Watt, and could play it indefinitely—because if she told on him, he’d go to jail for life.
It would be kind of fun, really, having Watt under her thumb. And with Watt’s quant hacking for her, no one would ever be able to surprise Leda again.
They were liars, all of them, she thought, Atlas and Avery, Eris, her parents—they’d all been hiding something from her. It was hurtful, and yet the knowledge was also strangely reassuring, as if she’d known it on some level all along, and now had the satisfaction of seeing her suspicions proven correct.
She couldn’t trust anyone in the world but herself, but then again, Leda never really had.
ERIS
BY THE TIME Eris arrived, Avery’s party was even more crowded than she’d expected. Every junior and senior from Berkeley was here, as well as the more daring underclassmen, and some kids who Eris was sure didn’t go to Berkeley at all.
She moved slowly along the tide of the party, pausing constantly to say hello, tell a story, accept compliments. Tonight should be a celebration, she reminded herself. Finally, after weeks of torment, she was about to get her old life back.
Yet for some stupid reason, tonight felt false—her friends’ designer clothes looked garish, their words seemed meaningless. Eris couldn’t stop thinking about what Mariel had said. Compared to the time she spent with Mariel, this felt like a bizarre whirlwind that moved too fast. Why did she care about it all anyway?
She wondered what Mariel was doing right now. She wished Mariel were here, wished she could apologize. Why not? she decided, she couldn’t make things worse than she already had. Swallowing her pride, Eris composed a message to Mariel. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. It was stupid and hurtful, and I regret it. Can I make it up to you? She nodded, and it sent.
Eris looked up to see Leda staring at her from across the room.
Out of habit she forced a smile—though it came out more like a grimace—and gave a little half wave. But Leda didn’t return the gesture. She just stared at Eris, unblinking, with such raw hate in her gaze that Eris took an involuntary step back. She felt powerless to move as Leda’s eyes scraped slowly over her, finally landing on the scarf tied around her shoulders. Her face was as flat and unyielding as the blade of a knife.
Leda knows, Eris thought wildly, in a sudden panic. She had to, to be looking at Eris like that.
Eris faltered and broke eye contact, wondering what she should say. It wasn’t fair for Leda to hate her—none of this was her fault. Eris hadn’t asked to be related to her. She looked back up, ready to return Leda’s glare, or even walk over and confront her. But Leda had disappeared into the crowd.
“Hey.” She felt a touch on her arm and turned to see Avery. “You okay?”
“I guess.” Eris was shaking a little, thoroughly unsettled by the whole scene. Her head had started pounding. She wondered if Leda had somehow forced the pain onto her through sheer malice.
“What’s going on?”
Eris didn’t really want to talk about it. “It’s nothing. You look amazing, by the way.” Avery seemed so happy these days, Eris noted. You could practically feel the joy radiating off her, like shimmering waves of heat.
“So do you,” Avery gushed. “Where’s your date?” She started to look around, but Eris shook her head.
“She didn’t come. We had a fight. A bad one.”
“Oh, Eris.” Avery squeezed her hand in sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that. But you’ll make up, right?”
“I hope so.” This time Eris wasn’t so sure.
She shivered, suddenly feeling the weight of another gaze on her. She had a moment of blind terror that it was Leda again, and wondered if she shouldn’t have come—but it wasn’t Leda.
It was Cord, staring at her. He was at the window, drinking alone, and Eris knew instinctively that something was wrong.
“I’m gonna go …” she heard herself tell Avery.
Avery followed the direction of her gaze and sighed. “Just be careful,” she said in warning. But Eris was already crossing the room toward the only boy who had ever broken up with her.
“What happened?” she said in greeting.
“Nice to see you too, as always.” Cord was affecting his old sarcasm, but Eris could sense a deep layer of pain underneath. His eyes looked red-rimmed. She wondered if he was high.
“I’m having a sucky day too, if it makes you feel better,” she told him. They drifted into a corner, behind one of the giant sculptures Avery’s mom collected. It was so loud in here that no one conversation could really be distinguished from any other. This was as much privacy as they would get, unless they went into a bedroom. Or a closet.
“Oh yeah?” Cord gave a mirthless laugh. “I guarantee mine’s more fucked up. Unless your new boyfriend pretended to fall in love with you for your money. Sorry,” he added, seeming to remember that she didn’t have money anymore.
“It’s a new girlfriend this time,” Eris said evenly, “and no, she didn’t. But I did fuck things up with her pretty royally.” Cord started to pass her his drink, but she shook her head. “It’s okay, I’m not in the mood,” she told him.
He shrugged and finished it himself. “Someone really pretended to fall in love with you?” Eris pressed, a little disbelieving.
“Yeah. She was my maid, if you can believe it. I know, I’m an idiot.” He gave Eris a sidelong glance. “Although, now that I know how strapped you were for cash at the start of the year, I guess you were doing the same thing.”
“I’m going to forgive that comment based on how excruciatingly drunk you are.”
Cord shrugged. “Catch up,” he said, and handed her a shot glass off a passing tray.
Eris shook her head. “To be fair, though,” she went on, “I never pretended to fall in love with you. Just hooked up with you.”
“And you’re damned good at it too,” Cord said, sliding his hand lower over her ass.
Eris swatted at it nonchalantly. “The sad thing is,” she said, “I really liked this girl.”
“Do you love her?” Cord asked.
“I don’t know.”
“If you aren’t sure, then you definitely aren’t in love,” Cord told her.
Eris laughed. “Like you’re such an expert.” Unless … “Wait, do you love this girl?”
“I don’t believe in love,” Cord announced.
“That’s terrible,” Eris said automatically, though she wasn’t so sure either. “Everyone believes in love.”
“I believe in happiness,” Cord said, and there was a look in his eyes that told her he was far away right now, from her, the party, the entire Tower. “I’m just not sure love will actually get you there.”
Eris didn’t know what to say, but she didn’t feel like Cord really needed her to answer. It was strange: being with him wasn’t anything like being with Mariel. It was easier, somehow. As though Cord were Eris’s dark mirror. He didn’t expect anything more of Eris than he did of himself—which was to say, not much at all.
Eris leaned forward, letting her chest rise a little more prominently in its push-up bra, trying to catch that familiar rush of flirtation. It seemed like no time at all had passed, like it was summer again and she and Cord were playing their games—and yet everything was different. It was like an echo of that time, a little less sharp, a little less thrilling. They had both changed too much.
“I’ve missed you, Eris.” Cord laughed again, the sound hollow. “You and me, we kind of deserve each other, don’t we?”
There was a time when Eris would have thrilled to hear him say that, yet now the words shot her with a pang of loneliness. She looked up at him and sighed imperceptibly. “Yeah. Maybe we do.”
AVERY