For a panicked moment, Rylin thought he was about to kiss her. Her stomach constricted in a wild, fluttering nervousness—because he was her teacher and she knew it was wrong, and yet some tiny part of her wanted him to.
“I knew you were a natural.” Xiayne grinned, then reached for his tablet from the counter behind her and returned to his seat. “I’m ordering coffee. Want anything?”
Rylin blinked, startled. “No, thanks,” she stammered, to hide her relief. Being around all these self-centered actors was clearly messing with her head.
“You should get one. We’re going to be here half the night fixing this. Unless you don’t want to stay,” Xiayne quickly backtracked. “You’ve already worked way more than union hours. But if you don’t mind, I could use the help.”
“Of course I’m staying,” Rylin said firmly, and sat up straighter. “And actually, yeah, a coffee would be great.”
“Awesome.” Xiayne clicked on the tablet a few times to place their orders, then smiled at Rylin as the footage began again.
AVERY
AVERY WAS TAPPING her stylus on her tablet, frowning down at a physics problem, when a knock sounded at her door. For a glorious, terrible instant she thought it might be Atlas, before she remembered that they weren’t speaking, and besides, Atlas’s knock had always been louder and more self-assured.
“Yeah?” She turned around, one leg crossed over the other in her chair.
Her mom paused in the doorway. She was wearing a red-and-black day dress with tights and a cropped black jacket. “I just wanted to make sure you knew about dinner,” she said, smiling. “Sarah is cooking short ribs.”
Avery’s eyes widened. “What are we celebrating? Did Dad already figure out his next project?” Genuine short ribs—the kind that weren’t grown in labs—were hard to come by and, even for the Fullers, implied a special occasion. Usually a new real estate acquisition.
“Atlas is officially taking the Dubai job! He and your father negotiated all the details,” Elizabeth exclaimed. She gave a little laugh, as if the idea of Atlas negotiating his salary with his own father was too amusing. So, Avery thought, that explained why both her parents’ spirits had visibly lifted these past few days.
She’d known this was coming, yet the news still stung her, more than it should. “I wish I could,” she said immediately, “but it’s actually Risha’s birthday, and we’re all going out to dinner.” No way was she staying here with her parents and Atlas, pretending to toast to the news that threatened to shatter her already-broken heart into even smaller pieces.
“Really? Do you have to?” Elizabeth pressed, but Avery held firm.
“It’s her birthday, Mom! I’m sorry.” Her mom finally nodded and shut the door.
Avery wandered mechanically into her bathroom to splash water on her face, then grabbed a towel from the UV sanitizer to pat it dry. The touch-activated floor was warm on her bare feet. Her counter was enormous, lined in pristine white marble, not a fingerprint or smudge in sight. And all around her were mirrors: curved mirrors, flat mirrors, even an antique hand mirror that her grandmother had given her on her first birthday. They were positioned at all angles, as if Avery might need to constantly check herself from new and unexpected perspectives.
Normally Avery switched the mirrors to project an ocean view—she hated the way her mom had decorated this bathroom, made Avery the focus of it, just as she was the centerpiece of the rest of their lives. But now she leaned forward on her palms and studied her reflection. A ghostlike self, pale and hollow-eyed, looked back at her.
She watched the ghost tap a series of commands into her makeup diffuser, making Avery beautiful, it seemed, without any help from her actual self. She closed her eyes as a fine mist sprayed over her face, instantly brightening the shadows around her eyes, darkening her lashes, highlighting the sweeping architecture of her cheekbones. When she looked up, she felt almost like Avery Fuller again.
She reached for the jasmine lotion in its crystal dispenser and rubbed it over her bare arms. It had been a gift from Eris, who used to order it from a tiny boutique in the Philippines, and always smelled like it. The scent was soothing, and so painfully familiar that it made Avery want to cry.
Eris would have understood this feeling, Avery thought: the sensation that there was a terrifying emptiness inside her, where something sharp and brittle rattled hollowly. Probably the broken pieces of her heart. Eris would have hugged Avery, and assured her that she was better than the rest of them combined. She would have sat with her eating cookie bites and hiding from the world until Avery felt ready to face it again.
But Eris wasn’t here, and Avery had to get out of this apartment if she wanted to avoid seeing Atlas tonight.
“Compose flicker. To Risha, Jess”—she hesitated a moment—“and Ming.” Avery still resented Ming for the way she’d embarrassed Eris at her birthday party, but she wanted a lot of people around her right now, and Ming was the type of person you needed on nights like this, loud and game for anything, with a flair for the dramatic. If nothing else, Ming would help keep Avery from thinking about Atlas.
“We’re going out tonight. Dress up. Meet at Ichi at eight.”
“What’s going on?” Jess asked when they were seated at Ichi a few hours later. Despite the late notice, all three girls had shown up, as Avery knew they would.
Avery tugged nervously at her laser-cut black dress and reached for the platter of lobster tempura on the table before them. Ichi was a trendy sushi restaurant, an old favorite of Eris’s, nestled like an opulent gem in the center of the 941st floor. It had no exterior windows, but that worked perfectly with the clubby atmosphere: dim lighting, techno music, and especially the low-slung tables that forced everyone to sit on the ground, amid piles of red silk cushions.
“I just wanted to have a fun girls’ night,” she said, flashing a smile.
“It’s a Wednesday,” Risha pointed out.
“I’m avoiding my parents,” Avery decided to admit. “They wanted to have a big family dinner at home, but I’m upset with them and not in the mood. I don’t want to get into it,” she added, and Ming—who’d already opened her mouth to ask a question—reluctantly stayed silent.
A waiter swooped over with the rest of their order: eel sashimi, tartare tacos, an enormous baked miso soufflé. When he started to deposit bright purple drinks at the corner of each place setting, Avery looked up in surprise. “We didn’t order lychee martinis.”
“I did,” Ming announced, and turned to Avery with a challenging smile. “Come on, you know you want one.”
Avery started to protest; she wasn’t in the mood to drink, at all. But then she thought of Atlas, sitting there with her parents, toasting to the job she’d never wanted him to take. One drink wouldn’t hurt.
The girls were all looking at Avery, awaiting her judgment. “Okay,” she said, lifting the martini to her lips.
“Let’s take a snap!” Jess squealed.
Avery started to shift aside like she normally did. She’d always hated being in snaps: she couldn’t control how the images made their way through the feeds, never knew who saw them, and despite all that effort there were far more pics out there than she wanted. But tonight, something stopped her. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, if Atlas saw her out right now with her friends. Maybe it would start making things normal between them.
“Here, take one with me in it,” she said, her voice ringing strange even to her own ears. She felt slippery with anxiety.
“Of course.” Ming pulled her lips into a tight, angular smile as the other girls turned and posed with practiced ease. “But, Avery, you never want to be in snaps. Who are you trying to make jealous?” Ming demanded, suspicious.
“Everyone,” Avery said easily, and they all laughed, even Ming.
Avery leaned back and glanced around the room. Everyone here was young and well-dressed, their skin bright with the elusive glow of wealth. A few boys at other tables glanced their way, clearly wondering about the young women in their short dresses and long glittery earrings, but no one had yet ventured over to talk to them.