INSTALOVE

Chapter 6: Open Doors

I glance at my watch. "We're late. The Welcome Dinner started twenty minutes ago."

"We're making a grand entrance," Reese replies. "The real party starts at 8." She offers no further explanation, but she taps the glasses dangling from the cord around her neck.

InstaLove? I lift an eyebrow. Maybe this party won't be as boring as I feared. "Are you sure Carlyle's going to be down with that?"

But I already know the answer before the words are out of my mouth. Of course he's down with it. Dr. Carlyle knows where his bread is buttered. He gets his funding for the Maker Program from the Winthrops...and this InstaLove VR mod is their darling daughter's pet project.

I pull out my own glasses and blow on them, using the bottom of my polo shirt to wipe the lenses. I should probably tuck my shirt in... But hey, it's summer. There's no official dress code in effect. No one will look twice as long as I'm wearing a blazer over top.

I lean against the doorframe, crossing my legs at the ankles, and I glance down approvingly at my perfectly creased cuffs. At least I ironed. I've been nursing along this pair of khaki trousers since Freshman year, but you wouldn't know it from the way I keep them pressed.

Reese turns away toward her laptop. I recognize the black rectangle of a text editor window. Her fingers dance across the keys, writing lines of code more fluently than most people write English sentences. She addresses me over her shoulder. "I integrated those new interaction scripts you wrote. Good stuff. I liked the one about the bunny rabbit..."

I scowl. "You know I could've integrated them myself." I'm still chafing at the whole plan for this summer's project, and I can't quite keep the irritation out of my voice. "I'm capable of more than writing glorified text messages."

She taps the window closed and turns back toward me. "You don't have edit privileges."

"I know how to code."

"I can't have multiple people editing the same blocks, Maddox. That's a recipe for introducing bugs."

"I know but..." I cast my eyes toward the ceiling and swallow the second half of my sentence. It's not worth arguing. I can't afford to get myself uninvited from Reese and Eleanor's group. We're essentially guaranteed to win first place at Maker Fair, with that tantalizing $500 cash prize...

But why do the two of them have to be so annoying? Eleanor I can manage, but Reese is such a control freak. I swear, she didn't used to be this bad when we were younger.

She glares at me. "Look, you're the one who begged to work with us. So be in our group, help where we need help, or else go do your own project. EOF."

EOF?

We're both staring each other down, but I break into a wide grin. Reese cracks me up sometimes. "Are you still saying that?" EOF started as a joke—using "End-of-file" for conversational purposes when any halfway normal person would just say "period." Eleanor started doing that in Middle School, the summer we all got serious about learning C++. That was eons ago. But I guess that's typical for Reese. Once she latches on to something, she never lets it go.

She smiles back at me, with a touch of sheepishness. "There's actually something else you might be able to help with."

"Sure. Name it."

"How do you feel about..." She pauses for a moment, searching for the right word. "Um... Human Resources?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know, personnel. Hiring. Recruitment..."

I run my palm against the bottom half of my face, but I can't stop my shoulders from shaking. She's messing with me, right? Human Resources? We're a bunch of kids at sleepaway camp!