“Is there a problem here?”
Rylin was stunned to see Leda Cole in the doorway of Mrs. Lane’s office. “Forgive me for interrupting,” Leda went on, with a charming smile, “I was just on my way back from a student government meeting and had a question for Mrs. Lane.”
Rylin tried to make eye contact with her, baffled, but Leda was staring determinedly at the administrator.
“Miss Cole! Maybe you can talk some sense into Miss Myers here,” Mrs. Lane exclaimed. “She’s trying to drop down to the intro-level holography class, and I’ve been telling her all week that it’s simply impossible.”
“Intro to Holography? Really?” Leda glanced at Rylin with a questioning expression. Rylin stayed silent. She had no desire to piss off Leda.
Leda seemed to read something in Rylin’s demeanor, and turned back to the older woman. “But you know, Mrs. Lane, our class is incredibly oversubscribed. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing if Rylin were to drop it.”
“I forgot that you’re in that class as well!” Mrs. Lane exclaimed. “So you understand how important it is to maintain the classroom balance—”
“Mrs. Lane,” Leda cut in smoothly, “Rylin is an incredible student, but she might benefit from the intro class. You should see the holos she took at Hotel Burroughs last Thursday—the material is scintillating, but the lighting is far too bright. You can see every last dirty little detail in the shots.” She slightly emphasized the last few sentences. Mrs. Lane colored, but said nothing.
“Of course, I’m aware of the school policies,” Leda went on, an eyebrow raised meaningfully. “But I’m not sure Rylin is yet. Perhaps it would help to have Dean Moreland explain them to her, so she can understand the implications? I know he has just the right touch when it comes to sensitive matters, like this.”
Mrs. Lane’s mouth was hanging open, utterly speechless. Rylin looked back and forth from Leda to the registrar in bewilderment. She wasn’t sure whether or not to speak. “Mrs. Lane—” she finally began, but the woman cut her off.
“Yes, Miss Cole, I see your point,” she said, nodding vigorously. Her expression was strangely pinched. “Miss Myers, I’m dropping you down to the base-level course. It meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays in the arts pavilion.”
“Um, thank you,” Rylin stammered, but Leda was already dragging her out into the hallway, a satisfied smirk on her face.
“You’re welcome,” Leda declared, and turned away.
“Wait! What the hell just happened? How did you do that?” And why?
Leda shrugged. “Mrs. Lane is having an affair with Dean Moreland, who, as you may know, is married. They meet at the Hotel Burroughs every Thursday.”
Rylin hadn’t heard anything about an affair. “Does everyone know about that?” she asked, surprised.
“No. Just me,” Leda answered mysteriously.
“Oh.” Rylin stood there, overwhelmed by a curious sense of relief, and resentment that she was now indebted to Leda Cole. “Well, thank you.”
“Don’t worry, you can owe me one.”
“Leda—” she called out, and the other girl turned back expectantly. Rylin gulped. “Why did you just help me? I thought you hated me.”
A brief flash of something, guilt or indecision or maybe even regret, crossed Leda’s face. “Maybe I’m just sick of everyone thinking I’m a coldhearted bitch,” she said matter-of-factly.
Rylin couldn’t think of an appropriate answer to that.
“Can I ask, though,” Leda went on, “why did you want to drop the class?”
Rylin briefly considered lying, but after what had just happened, she felt she owed Leda the real story. “During my independent study last week, Xiayne kissed me. I don’t want to see him again, for obvious reasons.”
“Xiayne came on to you?” Leda repeated. Rylin nodded, and Leda rolled her eyes. “God, what an ass. I’m sorry. And here I thought he might actually be one of the decent ones.”
“Do those exist?” Rylin said drily, and to her surprise, Leda laughed.
“You make a good point. Hey,” she said, as if a sudden idea was striking her, “are you going to the Dubai launch party this weekend?”
Rylin had heard the other kids talking about it all week—scheduling their private hydrojets and discussing the gowns they’d ordered, since the theme was a black-and-white ball. She’d told herself it was all ridiculous. Partying in New York was no longer good enough for these highliers—they had to fly halfway around the world to get drunk with the same people as always?
Still, some absurd part of her wanted to go, if only to see it all.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” she said now, to Leda.
“You should,” Leda urged. “It’ll help take your mind off things like self-centered holography professors.”
“I wasn’t invited,” Rylin protested.
Leda waved a hand in careless dismissal. “It’s Avery’s dad’s party; of course you can come. That’s not an issue.”
Rylin blinked at her, stunned. Was this some kind of trap? And since when were Leda and Avery best friends again? Rylin wasn’t exactly clued in to the social scene, but even she knew that those two hadn’t been speaking since the night on the roof.
“Thanks. I’ll think about it,” she said cautiously, suspicious of Leda’s motives.
“Well, I have to go. One of us is about to be late to our favorite arts class,” Leda said with a smile, as if they now shared a private joke. She paused, seeming to think of one last thing. “By the way, the Andertons are big investors in Fuller Enterprises, which means that Cord is probably going. If that changes your mind at all.”
“How did you—” What secret weapon did Leda have, that she seemed to know everything about everyone?
The bell rang, leaving Rylin standing there alone and bewildered, wondering what exactly had just happened.
When school was out that afternoon, Rylin walked directly to the edge of the tech-net and pinged Lux. No answer. Well, Rylin decided, she would just go and see her—and make a quick pit stop first.
When she knocked at the Briars’ door, Lux answered, wearing an old sweatshirt and shorts with a hole in them. Her hair was jet-black today, chopped off in terrible uneven bangs. “Wow,” Lux said, her voice flat. Her eyes traveled from Rylin’s uniform to her preppy ballet flats and the pink-and-white-striped shopping bag in her hands. “You look like a moron.”
“And you look like a disaster,” Rylin replied. When Lux didn’t say anything, didn’t open the door farther, Rylin faltered. “Can we talk? Is now not a good time?”
“I don’t know, Rylin. I tried to talk to you all week and you were completely MIA. I called you several times, but you never tried me back, not even once.” Animosity, and pain, flashed in Lux’s eyes.
Rylin crumpled with shame. She remembered receiving the ping when she’d been with Cord on Monday, and a few others on Tuesday, too, but she’d completely forgotten to try Lux back. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “What’s going on?”