“We ran into each other at an Augmented Reality game. Of course, after I saw Avery I couldn’t really focus on the game,” Watt said. “So I pestered her and sent her flowers until she agreed to go out with me.”

“Yes, well, Avery’s always been stubborn.” Pierson Fuller strode briskly into the room. “You must be Watt,” he said, and gave his hand a firm shake. “Have a seat. Can I get you something? Wine? Scotch?”

“Dad, we’re already late.” Avery glanced over at Watt, but he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Oh, I think we have time for one drink, don’t you?” he asked mischievously.

“Exactly.” Her dad stepped behind the bar and began sorting through the monogrammed crystal decanters. “Besides, they might have age scanners at the club, you never know. This could be the only drink you get tonight.”

“Not at the University Club.” Elizabeth stepped forward, the skirts of her dress giving a little swish as she walked. “Wine for me, Pierson.”

“They’re cracking down everywhere these days.” Pierson poured drinks into prechilled glasses and passed them around, then settled on the sofa. “So, Watt, tell me about yourself. Where do you go to school?”

“I go to Jefferson High, actually, on the 240th floor.” Watt said it confidently, unashamed. Avery found herself feeling oddly proud of him. To her relief, her parents just nodded, as if it were normal for boys to come two miles upstairs to go on dates with Avery.

“That’s a charter school, isn’t it?” Pierson asked.

“It is,” Watt said, and Avery shot her dad a curious stare. How did he know that?

Her dad nodded. “I have a few properties in that neighborhood. One’s at the corner of Seventeenth and Freedmore, the building with the bank inside …”

Avery stifled a groan and met Watt’s eyes, but he just grinned at her and took a sip of his Scotch. Up in her hair, the incandescent glowed like a living lightbulb.

* * *

Avery linked her arm in Watt’s as they stood at the entrance to the University Club ballroom. The massive dark-wood room was decorated all in tones of blue and silver; even the columns seemed to be entirely covered by a blue-and-white profusion of flowers. Curving bars dotted the corners of the room, and along the far wall, a dance floor had been set up. The room was dim, but Avery could still see the vibrant colors of all the dresses, which seemed even richer alongside the stark black of the tuxedos. “You’re terrible,” she hissed at Watt, and led him forward into the crowd.

“It’s not my fault your parents like me,” he replied innocently, and Avery couldn’t help smiling at that. He held out a hand. “Wanna dance?”

“Yes,” she said eagerly, wondering how Watt could tell what she’d been thinking. It was still a little early to be on the dance floor. But Avery had always preferred dancing to socializing at these things. People tended to flock around her, bombard her with small talk, shoot glances at her from across the room. Even now she could see them studying her dress, whispering to one another about the new boy she’d brought. The dance floor was the only place she ever got any peace.

As they moved through the crowds, Avery saw that pretty much everyone was here. There was Risha, standing with Ming at the bar; and Jess with her boyfriend, Patrick; and her parents’ friends the McClendons, who gave her a little wave. She knew why Eris was missing, but where was Cord? He and Brice were actually members in their own right, even though they were technically too young—the Club had bent the rules for them, since their parents were so beloved—but Avery didn’t see either of the Anderton boys around. She’d been sort of hoping Cord would show, just so she could find out what girl he’d broken up with Eris for.

They stepped onto the dance floor, and Watt reached for her arms to give her a perfect spin. He moved lightly and easily on his feet. “You’re a great dancer,” Avery said over the music, and felt immediately guilty for sounding so surprised.

“I had those shoes when we were younger. You know the ones that danced on their own, pulling you along for the ride?”

She snorted inelegantly at the image. “That sounds dangerous. I would definitely fall.”

“I did, hundreds of times. But eventually I started dancing like this.” Watt spun her again, then dipped her low over one arm.

He pulled Avery back up and the band began to slow, the lead female singer crooning one of Avery’s favorite old love ballads. She started to lead Watt deeper onto the dance floor just as he took a reflexive step back.

“Please? I love this song. Especially when it’s sung live,” she said, trying not to laugh at his dismay. It was so rare to hear live bands anymore, so few chances to listen to things like this.

Watt obediently stepped closer, seeming to hesitate before sliding a hand around her waist. He caught her other hand in his, swaying gently. “You really like old things, don’t you?” he asked, his eyes on hers.

“What do you mean?” Avery looked at him.

“The way you talked about the song just now. Or what you said in Redwood Park, or how you talk about Florence. You’re so … nostalgic. Why do you like ancient stuff so much?”

Avery was surprised at the insight. “You think it’s useless, don’t you?”