INSTALOVE

Chapter 6: Open Doors

"I'm serious, Maddox!" She whirls away and walks over to her desk, muttering under her breath. "Never mind. I'll do it myself."

I push away from the doorframe and take a step in her direction. "What do you mean, Human Resources?"

"Emerson wants us to recruit one of the new kids. Someone caught his eye when he was reviewing admissions applications."

Well, that's a new one...even for Emerson Kemp. Admissions applications? You have to give him credit. The kid is only 21 years old—a student himself until he developed InstaLove a few years ago—but he's already like an honorary member of the faculty around here. "Since when did Emerson care who works in what group for Maker Fair?"

"Forget Maker Fair!" Reese answers with a frown. "Didn't Eleanor tell you? Emerson might grant us a licensing deal for the VR module if we can show him proof of concept."

I pull up short. That got my attention. And no, in case you're wondering, Eleanor didn't breathe a word to me about it. "A what-a what kind of deal?"

"A licensing deal!" Reese glowers. She can tell I have no idea what she's talking about. She speaks slowly, enunciating her words as if she's talking to a toddler. "His company might license the code we develop and use it for the real app."

"Wait... so pay us for it? Like, with money?"

"Yes, Maddox. With money."

I stuff my hands in my pockets and slouch a bit, trying not to let on how interested I just got in this conversation. Probably a good thing we aren't playing InstaLove right now. My avi would be the one with the dollar signs for eyeballs.

"Ohhh gotcha," I say as casually as I can manage. "So how much are we talking about?"

Enough to pay my own way for senior year at a private boarding school? Because that would solve a lot of problems...

Reese doesn't answer. Maybe she doesn't know. Or maybe she doesn't need to know. It's not like she needs to worry about anything so mercenary. She probably only cares how it will look on her college applications. (As if she needs to worry about that either... Who am I kidding?)

I clear my throat. "So what do you need me to do exactly? Recruit some phenom to our group?"

"Lowercase," Reese replies, dropping her voice and glancing toward the closet.

"Excuse me?"

She presses a finger to her lips and answers in a whisper. "You know, the other Eleanor. We're referring to her as Lowercase."

I make a silent letter O with my mouth. "And does she—" I nod toward the closet— "know that you're recruiting Lowercase?"

"No! That's why I need you to do it. Act like it was all your idea."

I don't get it. I must be missing something. I mean, Eleanor can be petty, but I can't believe she'd throw a fit over some other girl daring to possess the same first name.

Reese heaves a sigh. "She's hurt, Maddox. She saw the way you looked at that girl... and then three seconds later you broke up with her."

Oh. I wasn't sure if Eleanor told anyone about our conversation in the library. But of course she did. She and Reese tell each other everything. There are no secrets between those two.

Reese's voice drops so low, she's practically mouthing the words instead of speaking them. "You're already on her shit list, Maddox. The last thing she needs is her best friend betraying her, too."

I look down and scratch the back of my neck. Why do I suddenly feel like such a slimebucket? It's not true, of course. I didn't break up with Eleanor because of some love-at-first-sight InstaCrush on another girl. It's way more complicated than that. But I won't pretend the new girl hasn't been popping in and out of my thoughts all afternoon...

Reese's silent gaze bears down on me, and I can't bring myself to meet her eyes. I slip on my VR glasses instead, flicking and blinking my way through the prompts.

There she is, filed under Missed Connections. My curiosity about this girl keeps growing. I wouldn't have pegged her for some badass hotshot coder, but she must be fairly amazing if Emerson took note.

I move her over to InstaFriends, but something makes me hesitate before I hit Confirm.

I know it's a bad idea. The next two weeks are going to be complicated enough without my adding further fuel to the fire.

But isn't this the whole reason I broke things off with Eleanor? Because she doesn't own me. She doesn't get to dictate who I talk to... who I look at... who I am... She doesn't get a say in my every move. Not anymore.

Tell hell with Reese and her guilt trips. I move Ellie's avatar again.

I blink once to Confirm, just as I hear the creak of the closet door's hinges. My glasses slide into my back pocket as Eleanor emerges. She catches sight of me and does a pirouette. She's wearing a strapless black satin cocktail dress, and the skirt swirls as she spins on sky-high heels. Anyone else would look ridiculously overdressed, but not Eleanor. I swear, the girl sets her own dress code everywhere she goes through sheer confidence and force of will.

She smiles and comes toward me. I can smell her scent. Chanel no. 5 like usual. She's been wearing that stuff ever since she read in Gossip Girl that it was Blair Waldorf's signature fragrance.

She straightens the lapels of my jacket, then takes a step back to assess her handiwork. "Tuck your shirt in," she commands.

I meet her gaze, and somehow our eyes have a whole unspoken conversation in the long moment before I answer. "Nah. I'm good like this."

Her mouth tightens at the corners. I know that look. She isn't pleased. But she covers it with a smile and a shrug.

"Suit yourself," she says, linking her arm through mine. With her other arm, she reaches out for Reese. "Come on, groupies. We're late. Let's get this party started."

I only have one thought as she leads us from the room.

It's going to be an interesting evening.

Or no... Scratch that. It's going to be an interesting two weeks.

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