The Towering Sky

by Katharine McGee

  “Psychology as a science was born because humans have been trying for millennia to understand why we do the things we do. Psyche, meaning mind, and logos, study. We’ve been doing this since the ancient Greeks, and yet we still haven’t come close to making sense of it all.

  “I’m Professor Heather Wang. Welcome to Introduction to Psychology,” she announced and narrowed her eyes. “If you’re here because you think this is the ‘easy’ science class compared to physics or chemistry, think again. At least elements and chemicals behave in a predictable way. People, on the other hand, are shockingly unpredictable.”

  Rylin couldn’t agree more. Sometimes she felt as if she couldn’t even predict her own actions, let alone those of the people around her.

  The door to the classroom pushed inward, and a familiar dark head appeared. Rylin barely bit back a sigh. Of all the classes he could have taken, Cord had to be in this one?

  Professor Wang gazed coolly at him. “I know you’re all seniors and have one foot out the door already, but I don’t tolerate lateness from anyone.”

  “I’m sorry, Professor Wang,” Cord said, with his usual charming forgive-me smile. Then he marched right over to Rylin’s lab console—ignoring the several other empty spots—and slid into the seat next to her.

  Rylin kept her gaze studiously forward, pretending not to see him.

  “Despite being coerced and at best halfhearted,” the professor went on, addressing the class, “what you just heard from Mr. Anderton was an apology, a prime example of the types of social interactions we will study this year. We will explore the different forces influencing human behavior, including established social norms. We’ll discuss how these norms came to be, and what happens when someone chooses to violate them.”

  Like violating the unspoken norm of sitting next to your ex-girlfriend in class when there are plenty of open seats?

  “Today we’ll be performing the Stroop effect, a classic demonstration of how easily the human brain can be tricked. Our brains are the computers with which we interpret the world, and yet their operations are compromised far too easily. We misremember information, we forget whole stretches of time. We convince ourselves of things we know to be untrue. Now let’s get started.” Professor Wang clapped, and their tablets all lit up with the text of the lab instructions.

  Cord leaned forward onto the lab table. He’d rolled up his sleeves, in blatant defiance of the dress code, revealing the muscles of his forearms. “Long time no see, Myers.”

  Rylin kept her eyes on the lab instructions to keep from looking at him. She’d been avoiding Cord since she saw him kiss Avery at the Dubai party last year. And she had been mostly successful, until now.

  “It says here that one of us needs to put on the VR headset,” she pointed out. If Cord noticed that she was tapping at her tablet with unusual vehemence, he didn’t comment on it. He just kept looking at her with that amused smile, his lips slightly parted.

  “How was your summer?”

  Why was he trying to make small talk? “It was good,” Rylin said shortly. “You?”

  “I traveled with Brice for a while, mostly around South America. Windsurfing, scuba, you know.” No, Rylin thought, I really don’t know.

  Cord was close with his older brother, Brice, but then—like Rylin and Chrissa—they were all each other had. The Andertons had died years ago in a freak plane crash, making Cord an orphan, a celebrity, and a billionaire all at once. He had been ten years old.

  When Rylin’s mom died, Rylin had inherited nothing but a massive stack of unpaid medical bills.

  “What about you, did you go anywhere fun?” Cord asked.

  Go anywhere fun? “Not really. I had a job working for an archivist, going through film at the public library.”

  “Oh, right. I saw your snaps. That looked cool,” Cord agreed. Rylin was startled to hear that he’d been following her on the feeds.

  “I missed you at my party on Saturday,” he added. “I was excited to see what you were going to be dressed as—I couldn’t decide which was more likely, Catwoman or a punk rocker.”

  “I don’t really do costumes.” Did Cord seriously think that she would show up to the very party she’d worked for him last year, the party where he’d first kissed her?

  “Don’t do costumes? Where’s the fun in that?”

  “It doesn’t always have to be about ‘fun,’ you know,” Rylin snapped, more curtly than she’d meant to. She knew she wasn’t really being fair. But Cord needed to stop and think sometimes before just saying whatever popped into his mind.

  And there wasn’t anyone else in Cord’s life who was about to call him out like that.

  She picked up the virtual reality headpiece and settled it clunkily over her brow, shutting out the whole world, including Cord. “I’ll go first,” she said into the silence. Illuminated before her on the goggles was a blank white background.

  After a moment, Cord tapped at something to begin the lab. “Tell me what color you see.”

  The word hello appeared before her in vibrant green. Rylin blinked at it for a moment, disconcerted, before remembering that she was supposed to say the color. “Green.”

  The word disappeared, to be replaced by a dark red block letters that read purple.

  “Purple,” she said automatically and felt herself flush again. “No, wait, I mean, red—”

  Cord laughed. She tried not to wonder what his expression looked like beyond her blocked-out field of vision.

  “Don’t you see how easily your brain can be tricked!” Professor Wang’s voice crowed nearby.

  Rylin flicked a switch on the side of the VR headset and its screen evaporated into transparency. She glanced through her now clear goggles to see the professor hovering near their lab station. “I just read the word automatically,” she tried to explain.

  “Exactly!” the professor cried out. “Your analytical and visual identification neurons were firing at cross-purposes, and chaos broke out! Your own brain betrayed you!” She tapped one finger to her head before swishing off to another lab station.

  It only betrays me when Cord is around, Rylin thought with some resentment.

  She reached up to flick the side of her headset, letting the view screen repopulate with the lab program. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Rylin . . .” Cord reached over as if to lift the VR headset from the crown of her head, but Rylin instinctively jerked back. He didn’t get to touch her hair as if it meant nothing. He’d forfeited that right a long time ago.

  Cord seemed to realize that he’d crossed a line. “Sorry,” he mumbled, chastened. “But—I’m confused. What’s going on? I thought we were becoming friends again last year, and now I feel like you’re attacking me.”

  We were becoming friends, until I wanted to be more, and then I saw you with Avery. “Don’t worry about it,” she said stiffly. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s clearly not fine,” Cord protested.

  “Look, can we just get this lab done with, and—”

  “Forget the lab, Rylin.”

  She was startled by the flash of anger that ran through Cord’s words. Reluctantly she took off the VR headset and set it on the table.

  “What is it?”

  “Why are you acting like this?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Rylin protested weakly—because she knew exactly what he meant, and felt suddenly ashamed of herself. She fiddled awkwardly with the strap on the headset.

  “Did I do something to upset you?” Cord pressed.

  Their eyes met, and Rylin felt herself flush a bright agonized red. Telling Cord the truth meant admitting how she’d felt about him last year: that she’d gone all the way to Dubai chasing him. Yet some part of her insisted that she owed Cord an explanation, no matter how much it stung her pride.

  “I saw you with Avery. In Dubai,” she said quietly.

  Rylin watched as he sorted through the implications of her words. “You saw Avery kiss me?” he demanded at la
st.

  Rylin gave a miserable nod, not trusting herself to speak. Even though it was months ago—even though she was with Hiral now, and it shouldn’t matter—Rylin felt the shame of that night stealing over her, as sticky and suffocating as ever.

  She’d gone to Dubai buoyed by a ridiculous hope that she could find Cord and tell him how she felt. That they could start over. She’d looked for him that whole night, but when she’d finally found him, it was too late. He was with Avery. Kissing her.

  “Nothing ever happened again between me and Avery,” Cord said slowly. “We’re just friends.”

  Rylin had figured that out eventually, once Avery left for Europe and started dating that Belgian guy or whoever he was. She felt a little foolish. “You don’t owe me an explanation,” she said quickly. “It was all so long ago, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

  “Except that it clearly does matter.” Cord’s eyes were unreadable. “I wish you’d said something,” he added softly.

  Rylin felt her blood hammering underneath her skin. “Hiral and I got back together,” she felt a sudden need to say.

  “Hiral?”

  Rylin knew what Cord must be thinking. He was remembering what Hiral had done last year when she’d been working for Cord. “It’s different this time,” she added, not sure why she was explaining herself to Cord anyway.

  “If you’re happy, Rylin, then I’m happy for you.”

  “I am happy,” she agreed, and she meant it; she was happy with Hiral. Yet somehow the statement had come out a bit defensive.

  Cord nodded. “Look, Rylin, can’t we start over?”

  Start over. Was that even possible after everything they’d been through? Perhaps it wasn’t a start-over as much as a start-from-here. It sounded nice, actually.

  “I’d like that,” Rylin decided.

  Cord held out his hand toward her. For a moment Rylin was startled at the gesture, but then she tentatively reached out and shook his hand.

  “Friends,” Cord declared. Then he reached for the VR goggles to begin his section of the lab.

  Rylin glanced over at him, curious at something she thought she’d heard in his tone, but his expression was already hidden behind the bulky mask of the goggles.

  LEDA

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Leda turned down the hallway toward the main entrance of the Berkeley School. The other students moved in coordinated flocks around her like uniformed birds, all wearing the same navy pants or plaid pleated skirts. Leda watched as they formed into groups, only to exchange a few snitches of gossip before breaking off again. The halls were thick with that frantic back-to-school hum, everyone rapidly recalibrating their relationships after three months apart.

  Thank god some relationships didn’t change, she thought gratefully as Avery emerged from a classroom across the hall. Avery had no idea just how much Leda had needed her.

  She was oddly glad that Avery had insisted she come to Cord’s the other night. Leda hadn’t exactly been the life of the party—it all felt so garishly loud and bright, and she kept worrying that the darkness would open up within her again, like an earthquake that might erupt at any moment. But nothing all that bad had happened. Actually, Leda realized, it had felt good, doing something almost normal again.

  “Come with me to Altitude?” Avery asked, falling into step alongside her. “There’s a new thermo-shock yoga class I want to try. Super hot for the stretch, freezing for the cooldown.”

  “I have some studying to do tonight,” Leda said, adjusting her crossbody bag over her shoulder.

  “Our first day back? We don’t even have any homework yet!”

  “It’s my SAT tutor. I need to push my score above a three thousand.” Leda was applying to Princeton. Her mom had gone there, and lately, Leda had found herself trying to be more and more like her. It was a new impulse, given that she’d spent the first eighteen years of her life trying to be the opposite of her mom.

  “You’re welcome to come with me, if you want the extra practice,” she added, but Avery shook her head.

  “I’m not taking the SAT. Oxford doesn’t recognize it.”

  “Oh, right. Because of Max,” Leda said lightly as they walked through the school’s massive stone gates and out into the fabricated sunshine. Though Leda had to admit that she’d been pleasantly surprised by Max. He wasn’t at all what she’d expected. She couldn’t imagine being attracted to him herself, with his shaggy hair and eclectic Euro style; the way his attention flitted between distraction and sudden, intense focus. But she sensed something fundamentally warm and sturdy about him. He was the type of boy you could trust with your best friend’s heart.

  “I wanted to go to Oxford before Max, remember?” Avery insisted, though a goofy smile played around her lips at the mention of him.

  Leda froze at the unusual sight of two police officers lingering just past the school’s entrance. Their relaxed poses didn’t fool her one bit. They were watching the ebb and flow of students around the edge of the tech-net, looking for someone in particular.

  Leda knew, with an instinctive animal certainty, that they were here for her.

  One of the police officers—or maybe they were detectives?—met her gaze, and the flash of recognition in his eyes confirmed her suspicions.

  “Miss Cole?” he asked, stepping forward. He was pale and plump, with a curling dark moustache and a name tag that said OFFICER CAMPBELL. In contrast, his partner was a young woman named Kiles; tall and willowy with a dark bronzed tan.

  “That’s me,” Leda said reluctantly.

  “We were hoping you would come down to the station, answer a few questions for us.”

  “Leda . . .” Avery whispered, and bit her lip in alarm. Leda held her head high, ignoring the frantic pattering of her heart. On some level she had known that this day would come.

  She just didn’t know which of her many transgressions she had to answer for.

  “What is this regarding?” Leda was proud of how cool and unconcerned her voice came out. But then, Leda had plenty of practice at pretending not to care about things that actually mattered.

  “We’ll fill you in at the station,” said Officer Kiles. Her eyes cut significantly to Avery. Through the haze of her panic, Leda felt a sharp curiosity. Whatever this was, it was confidential.

  “I’m sorry, but you can’t just question my friend without reason,” Avery cut in. She had that stubborn, protective look she’d inherited from her father. “Do you have any paperwork?”

  Kiles swerved on her. “Avery Fuller, right?”

  The fact that they knew her name didn’t subdue Avery one bit. She was used to being recognized, especially these days. “If you think I’m going to let you drag my friend off without any formal request—”

  “We’re not dragging anyone. We were hoping that Miss Cole would come voluntarily,” Kiles said smoothly.

  “It’s okay, Avery,” Leda cut in, though she was touched by Avery’s defense of her. She knew what would happen if she told the police no. They would just go get whatever paperwork they needed, meaning she would still end up there involuntarily. And with far fewer niceties.

  “I’m happy to come,” she told the officers, trying to project more confidence than she felt.

  “How are you doing, Miss Cole?”

  Leda barely refrained from rolling her eyes. She’d always hated that question. It reminded her far too much of what her therapist would ask.

  “I’m fine, thank you.” She knew the police didn’t actually care how she was doing. The question was a vacuous courtesy or perhaps some kind of test.

  She tucked her heels behind the legs of her dented metal chair and glanced impassively around the interrogation room. She didn’t see the telltale shimmer in the air, like a self-contained heat wave, that usually indicated a security cam—but that didn’t mean anything, did it? Surely the police were recording her some other way. Or would they need her parents’ consent for that, since she was still a minor?

  Across the met
al table, both police officers blinked at her, revealing nothing. Leda kept her lips pursed, content to let the silence swirl around her.

  “Are you aware of why you’re here?” asked Officer Campbell.

  “I’m here because you asked me,” Leda said crisply.

  Campbell leaned forward. “What do you know about Mariel Valconsuelo?”

  “Who is that?” Leda asked with more force than she should have.

  “You don’t know her?” Campbell laid his palms on the table, causing a holographic insta-screen to flare to life before him. Leda craned her neck, but from her perspective the holo was just a flat, opaque rectangle of pixels. He tapped the screen to input a series of commands, and a hologram burst to life, visible to all of them.

  It depicted a Hispanic girl around Leda’s age, with curling dark hair and conspicuous eyes. There was something fierce and determined in her features. She wasn’t smiling, the way most people did in their official ID photos.

  It was the face that, along with Eris’s, had haunted Leda’s nightmares for the past year.

  Suddenly Leda was back in Dubai, terrified and helpless on that beach, and Mariel was looming over her, her gaze sharp with hatred. You killed your sister, Leda, she’d spat. A light from the dock had illuminated Mariel from behind, limning the edges of her form, making her look like some kind of avenging angel in her black bartender’s outfit. An angel sent from hell, to hold Leda accountable for all the ugliness in her heart—

  “It looks like you might recognize her,” Kiles said pointedly.

  Shit. Leda tried to get a hold on her emotions. “Maybe I’ve seen her around? She seems familiar, but I don’t know why.”

  “Mariel worked as a waitress at Altitude Club,” Campbell offered in a condescending tone. As if Leda was supposed to seize gratefully on that fact and thank him for it.

  “I guess that explains it.” Leda shrugged, but the officer wasn’t done.

  “She was also at the launch event for the Mirrors in Dubai. She was part of the Altitude Club staff that the Fullers brought over to work the event.” His eyes were twin globes of watchfulness. “According to her family, she was also dating Eris Dodd-Radson, before Eris’s death.”