Leda’s mom stood in the living room, pulling a sumptuous coat around her shoulders. “Avery!” she had cried out, with audible relief. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’ll be good for Leda to see you.”
Good for Leda? Avery thought, marching up the stairs in confusion. Then she reached Leda’s bedroom and understood.
It was entirely changed. Gone were the bright persimmon carpet, the vintage Moroccan pillows, the hand-painted side tables. The shelves, which used to hold an eclectic assortment of things—a chipped celadon vase, a mobile sunlamp, a funny stuffed giraffe that sang “Happy Birthday” when you pressed on its stomach—were bare. Everything felt dismal and utterly Spartan. And most starkly changed was Leda herself, who stood in a pool of shadow near her closet.
Leda had always been thin, yet now she was startlingly skinny, new shadows gathering at the base of her collarbone. Her hair was cropped close to the scalp, making her look more boyish than ever. But it was her twitchy nervousness that frightened Avery the most.
“I’ve missed you,” Avery cried out, crossing the room and engulfing her friend in a hug. Leda stood there stiffly, barely returning it. When Avery stepped back, Leda crossed her arms over her chest in an instantaneous defensive motion.
“What’s going on, Leda?” How did I miss this? Avery remembered what she’d said to Max the other day, that a lot had happened while she was gone. Clearly much more than she’d realized.
“I made a few changes when I got back from rehab,” Leda said tersely. “My doctors wanted me to start over fresh, with no reminders of my old life. So I wouldn’t slide back into my old habits.”
Avery refrained from pointing out that when they told Leda to start over, the doctors probably hadn’t been talking about furniture. “Should we do dinner before Cord’s party? I’ll wait while you change.”
Leda hurried to shake her head. “That’s okay. I wasn’t planning on going.”
“You live for this party!”
“I used to,” Leda said quietly, her eyes hooded. “Not anymore.”
This wasn’t Leda at all. The person before her was a hollow pod-person version of Leda, a mannequin Leda, who looked and sounded like Leda but couldn’t possibly be Avery’s sharp and vibrant best friend.
Well, if anything could snap Leda back into herself, it was a good party.
“Too bad,” Avery said briskly, pressing her palm against Leda’s wall to open her closet. “You’re coming, even if I have to drag you the entire way. I promise not to let you drink a single thing,” she said loudly, over Leda’s stammered protests. “I’ll even vid-chat your rehab counselor in real time, if that’s what it takes. But you’re coming. I want you to meet Max.”
Now, as they looked out over Cord’s living room, Avery couldn’t help thinking that she’d made a mistake. Leda stood there vacant and glassy-eyed, utterly disinterested in her surroundings.
A pair of freshman girls strutted up the stairs, both of them wearing cat ears and holographic tails that swished lazily behind them. “That’s her. Avery Fuller,” one of them whispered. “She’s so gorgeous.”
“You would be too, if you were genetically designed for it.”
“Can you believe her dad is running for mayor?”
“I’m sure he’s buying his way in, the same way he bought Avery. . . .”
Avery tried not to listen as the girls brushed past, but her grip on the railing tightened imperceptibly. She should be used to the gossip by now; it had been going on her entire life.
Everyone in New York knew the story of Avery’s creation: that her parents had custom-built her from the pool of their combined DNA in a very expensive genetic mining procedure. The year of her birth, her baby photo had even been on the cover of Time digital magazine, under the headline “Engineering Perfection.” Avery hated it.
“Want me to kick them out?”
Avery looked over in surprise. Anger was stormclouding over Leda’s features, fracturing her formerly cool surface.
She felt the strangest urge to laugh in relief. The old Leda was still in there after all.
“We’re at a party. No need to stir up unnecessary drama,” Avery said quickly.
“Where else does unnecessary drama belong, if not at a party?” Leda asked and then smiled. It came out a little rigid, as if she hadn’t smiled in a while and had half forgotten how to do it, but it was a smile all the same.
Unnecessary drama. Suddenly, Avery couldn’t help thinking of this time last year, when she and Leda had been standing at the top of these very stairs, both hiding the same monumental secret—that they were in love with Atlas.
“Where is he, anyway?” Leda asked.
“Who?” Surely Leda hadn’t been thinking about—
“This Klaus von Schnitzel of yours.”
Oh, right. “It’s Max von Strauss,” Avery corrected, hoping Leda hadn’t heard the beat of hesitation. “And I’m not sure. He disappeared earlier this afternoon, saying that he had to do something urgent. He promised to meet me here, though.”
“How mysterious,” Leda said, and it was almost teasing.
Avery swallowed and decided to ask the same question she’d posed earlier. “Leda. What’s going on?”
Leda opened her mouth as if to reassure Avery with a lie, only to pause. “I didn’t have the easiest year,” she admitted. “I needed to work through some things.”
Avery knew precisely what Leda was wrestling with: the fact that she had killed Eris. “She wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up like this.” She didn’t bother clarifying who she meant. They both knew.
“It’s complicated,” Leda said evasively.
“I wish you’d told me.” Avery felt her chest clench with sorrow. Had Leda been like this all year long, avoiding their friends, hiding from the world in that hollowed-out bedroom?
“You couldn’t have helped,” Leda assured her. “But I’m glad you’re back. I missed you, Avery.”
“I missed you too.”
Avery glanced down at the living room, and her eyes lit up at the sight of Max, threading his way through the crowd below. He looked tall and imposing and woefully lost. The world felt instantly lighter.
“Max is here!” she exclaimed, and reached for Leda’s hand to tug her down the stairs. “Come on, I’m so excited for you guys to finally meet!”
“In a minute,” Leda said, gently untangling herself from Avery’s grip. “I need a breath of fresh air. Then I promise I’ll come find you both.”
Avery started to argue, then paused at the sight of Leda’s eyes, liquid and serious. “Okay,” she said at last, and then headed down the stairs alone.
When Max saw her, his entire face—his entire body, really—broke into a grin.
“You made it,” Avery breathed. Not that she had ever doubted he would. Max always showed up exactly where he’d promised to be, at the exact time he’d promised. Ruthless German efficiency, she supposed, even if he did usually look like a college professor who was running late to class. “You didn’t have any trouble finding the apartment?”
“Not at all. I chose the one with the girl throwing up outside,” Max replied. “Don’t worry, I put her into a hovertaxi home,” he hastened to add.
Avery shook her head in amusement. She watch Max glance around the room at all her classmates, dressed in wild assortments of sequins and neon spandex, their hair temporarily colored or lengthened thanks to the styler’s many custom settings. Compared to college parties, she realized, it probably felt silly and a bit affected.
“I’m sorry. I forgot to warn you that it’s a costume party.”
Max looked down at his own outfit for a moment, as if to check that he had, in fact, remembered to put on clothes that morning. “You’re right! What can we tell everyone I’m dressed as? A vagabond?”
Avery couldn’t help laughing. She felt everyone watching her, burning with curiosity about Avery Fuller’s new boyfriend. She knew they were all surprised that this was who she ended up with, afte
r so many years of being pointedly single. Max was nothing like the boys she’d grown up with, with his floppy green shirt and clunky, unstylish boots. He was so lanky and European looking, that predatory hawk-like nose dominating his otherwise handsome face.
“You, of course, look stunning.” Max’s eyes skimmed over her outfit, a black sequined dress and feathered headpiece she’d thrown on at the last minute. “Who are you, Daisy Buchanan?”
“Absolutely not,” Avery said automatically. She had never liked The Great Gatsby. Something about Daisy’s isolation—cold and alone, surrounded by all her money—struck her with an odd sense of misgiving.
“You’re right; Daisy is far too frivolous. You’re more of a Zelda Fitzgerald, beautiful and brilliant.”
Avery waved away the compliment. “I’m so glad you made it. I’m dying to introduce you to everyone.”
“And I can’t wait to meet them all,” Max said heartily. “But I need to talk with you first, alone. Is that okay?”
His words sounded portentous. Avery wondered if it had to do with his mysterious errand from earlier. “This way,” she offered. She knew just the place.
As always at these parties, Cord’s greenhouse already contained a group of underclassmen trying to hotbox with their halluci-lighters. A heavy cloud of smoke hung around their heads. The moment they saw Avery, they scrambled to leave without being asked. She sighed and pushed the aerate button near the door, then leaned back as the greenhouse’s internal system cycled in new air.
She’d always loved it in here. The Andertons’ greenhouse was on the corner, so two of its walls were lined with triple-reinforced flexiglass, offering floor-to-ceiling views of the dusted purple sky. Unlike her parents’ greenhouse, which was strictly ordered and labeled, this one was a riot of color. Roses, bamboo, and sunflowers grew together in a haphazard tangle, all of them genetically tweaked to bloom in the Tower’s conditions. A few pea-sized pods were scattered in the soil—biosensors, monitoring the plants’ levels of water, glucose, even their temperatures, so the greenhouse could make adjustments on a micro level. Avery knew that this was exactly how Cord’s mom had left it.
The air seemed warm, as if Avery’s blood were rushing out to her extremities. It felt as if they were no longer in the Tower at all, but in some remote and uncharted jungle. She pushed toward the window and Max followed, ducking beneath one of the oversized orchids.
“I didn’t want to say anything before, in case it didn’t work out, but I just had a meeting at Columbia,” Max began and then paused, as if to gauge Avery’s reaction. When she didn’t answer, he forged ahead. “One of the professors here, Dr. Rhonda Wilde, is the world’s leading expert in political economics and urban structures. She advised my professor at Oxford when he was at university! I’ve always dreamed of the chance to study directly with her, and now I have it.”
Max took Avery’s hands and looked into her eyes. “What I’m trying to say is, Columbia and Oxford have both agreed to let me take my classes here this year as an exchange student. So I would spend the year in New York.”
Avery was momentarily bewildered. She and Max hadn’t discussed what would happen when he went back to England in a few days. She had hoped that they would stay together, but didn’t want to assume anything. Max was in college, after all.
“You’re saying you won’t go back to Oxford?” Avery repeated. “You’ll stay?”
“Only if you want me to,” Max said quickly. The lingering smoke seemed almost blue in the darkness; it gathered around his head like a halo.
Avery let out a breathless laugh and threw her arms around him in delight. “Of course I want you to!” she exclaimed, her words muffled into his chest. “But are you sure this is what you really want? You would be missing your sophomore year of college—all those traditions you love, house parties and that dawn banquet and your crew season—”
“It’s worth it, for the chance to study with Dr. Wilde. And to spend time with you,” Max assured her. “But are you sure that you’re okay with it? We never really talked about what would happen after the summer ended. I know it’s your senior year. I’ll understand if you want to just spend time with your friends, without your summer boyfriend hanging around.”
“Max. You know you’re more to me than a summer boyfriend,” Avery said quietly, and was warmed by the broad, eager smile that broke over his face.
“You’re more to me than a summer girlfriend, Avery. So much more. You’re part of my life now, and I want you to keep being part of it.”
He paused before the final three words, words that balanced on the edge of the sentence like droplets of rain. “I love you.”
Avery had known somehow that he would say it, and yet Max’s declaration still sent a delicious shiver down her spine. She let the words echo for a moment, savoring them, knowing that with those words their relationship had shifted into something new. “I love you too.”
She snaked her arms around Max to pull him closer, feeling the muscles of his back through the fabric of his shirt. He leaned forward to drop a kiss on her forehead, but Avery tilted her face up, so that his lips met hers instead.
The kiss was soft and tender at first, almost languid. But then Max’s hands were tracing over her body with increasing urgency, sending little tingling whorls up and down her nerves. It felt as if her entire body was sizzling beneath her skin, or maybe her skin had grown too small to contain her. Avery’s breath came faster. She clung tighter to Max, feeling like the vines draping along the walls, as if she wouldn’t be able to stand without his support—
“Oh my god, get a room,” someone said, sliding open the door. Avery tore herself back in a sudden panic. She recognized the voice as Cord’s.
“We have a room, thanks. It’s this one,” Max replied blithely.
Avery couldn’t even bring herself to speak. She just watched the horrified amusement spread over Cord’s face as he realized who he’d interrupted. “Sorry, Avery, I didn’t realize. You two, um, carry on.”
He gave a funny double tap on the wall and started to beat a hasty retreat, but Avery had found her voice at last. “Cord, I don’t know if you’ve met my boyfriend, Max?”
Cord looked the same as ever, Avery thought, broad and imposing in his pirate costume, a crimson sash flung dramatically across his open-necked white shirt. He was holding a packet of potshots; a couple other guys, Ty Rodrick and Maxton Feld, were clustered behind him. They’d clearly all been about to smoke.
Cord’s ice-blue eyes held hers for a meaningful moment. Avery wondered if he was thinking about that night too—the one and only time that they had kissed, back in Dubai. It had been reckless and foolish and Avery hadn’t cared; she’d been tumbling down a dark and perilous spiral after losing Atlas, and nothing at all had mattered to her. Not even the implications of that kiss, and what it might do to her relationship with Cord.
She knew it was cowardly and immature, but she and Cord had never spoken of it. She’d barely even seen him afterward; she’d left the next week for England, and then met Max. Part of her felt that she owed Cord an apology. Because afterward, in the cruel light of day, Avery saw that kiss for what it was: a selfish attempt to wipe Atlas from her brain. Cord deserved better.
He smiled at Max and held out a hand. “Great to meet you, Max. I’m Avery’s friend Cord.” And Avery understood without being told that everything was folded into that word, friend. She and Cord would be just fine.
“Oh. This is your greenhouse!” Max edged past Cord, toward the door. “In that case, we should find another room. Maybe one less in demand. Or more geographically convenient.” He said that last bit to Avery, though loud enough that the rest of them all heard. She pursed her lips against a smile and dragged him back out into the party.
The rest of the night passed in a joy-soaked blur. She introduced Max to everyone—Leda stayed just long enough to say hi, though Avery was glad to see that he coaxed a smile from her. Finally, as the party was winding down, they slid int
o a hovertaxi home.
“You and Cord used to date, didn’t you?” Max asked abruptly.
Avery blinked, caught off guard, but Max didn’t seem to notice.
“He’s the guy, isn’t he? The one who broke your heart before you came to England?” Max sounded almost proud of himself for having figured it out. “I just felt a strange vibe between you, and I wondered.”
Avery’s heart was pounding wildly, echoing in her ears. “You’re right,” she said quickly. “Cord and I had a thing. But it didn’t work out.”
“Of course it didn’t,” Max agreed, as if pointing out the obvious. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Because you belong with me.”
Avery loved that about Max: the way he seemed so self-assured, so certain of the world and his place in it. The way he noticed things no one else paid attention to. But right now she needed him to pay a little bit less attention, or he might realize that she hadn’t really told him the truth.
She hadn’t wanted to lie to Max, but what other choice did she have? He couldn’t ever know who had actually broken her heart last year. If he knew the truth, Max wouldn’t want her anymore.
It didn’t matter that she and Atlas were long since over. If anyone found out the truth about them, Avery knew, her life would come crashing down around her.
CALLIOPE
CALLIOPE HATED HER bedroom at Nadav’s apartment.
It used to be the formal guest room and still contained the same set of heavy furniture, with clawed feet and angry-looking eagle heads carved into each drawer. The heavy velvet drapes seemed to crush the very air from the room. On the wall facing the bed hung an antique image of dogs killing a deer. Calliope thought it was morbid, but Nadav had won it in an auction and was terribly proud of it. She’d gotten in the habit of throwing a sweater over the painting before she went to bed, so the deer’s mournful eyes wouldn’t haunt her in her sleep.
When Calliope first moved in, she’d instantly begun planning how she would redo the room. She would buy light, airy furniture and colorful pillows and paint the wall with pigmaspectrum paint, in the bold primary palette. But when she mentioned her intention one night at dinner, Nadav had been so shocked that he let his fork clatter loudly to his plate.
The Towering Sky Page 5
