INSTALOVE

Chapter 9: Wet Rabbit

Ellie has stopped coughing, but she's still panting too hard to answer. I wonder if she needs medical attention. Is the infirmary even staffed for the summer session? Where are all the adults?

I crane around, but I only see a crowd of students stand around uselessly, wringing their hands. Dr. Carlyle must have left the party once the game started. I'm about to tell Reese to go find him, when I see the familiar bald head and wire-rimmed glasses pushing their way toward us.

Ellie seems like she's regained her breath, but she still hasn't said a word. I can't tell if she's hurt or just embarrassed. She leans forward and buries her face in her hands.

Dr. Carlyle rests his hand on her shoulder. "Are you hurt? Maddox, why don't you walk Ellie to the infirmary to get checked out."

She speaks at last, a whispered protest. "No, no." Her eyes go the program director, all big and round like the first time I met her—only now they're wide with shock, not childlike excitement. "I'm fine. Really."

I still have my arm around her, and I feel her shiver in the cool evening air. I reach for my discarded blazer, slightly damp but not too bad, and I wrap it around her shoulders.

Carlyle slips his glasses down the bridge of his nose, examining her over top of the frames. "Are you sure? If you took in any water, you should—"

She shakes her head, and her eyes dart wildly around. Her chest is heaving up and down again, but it's not what Carlyle thinks. She covers her face again and whispers something too soft for anyone but me and Dr. Carlyle to hear. "Please stop looking at me."

I glance up at the other kids around us. A few faces look concerned... but mostly I can hear their nervous giggles. "She's fine," I announce gruffly. "Everyone put your visors back on. Nothing to see here."

I can't really blame them for laughing. This whole incident is kind of hilarious to me too, I have to admit—but Ellie's obviously not seeing the humor just now.

And neither are Reese and Eleanor.

Reese has Ellie's visor pressed to her face, holding down the power button with her index finger, while Eleanor fidgets at her side. "Can you see anything? Did it restart?"

"Dude, would you let it go?" I growl. "Forget the visor!"

Reese peels the glasses off at last and wipes the lenses with the hem of her shirt. "They're fine." She holds them out to Ellie, who still has my blazer hanging limply from her shoulders as I help her to her feet.

"Didn't you see the alert?" Eleanor snaps at her.

Ellie shakes her head, her eyes pointed downward at the empty space between Reese's sneakers and Eleanor's five-inch heels. "No," she answers miserably. "I mean, it just said 'Eyes ahead.' It all happened really fast."

Eleanor scowls, but Reese looks more surprised than anything. She must be thinking the same thing I am. InstaLove went through some growing pains when Emerson first launched it publicly—a few scattered reports of accidents and injuries. He and his team of developers had supposedly added new safety features to keep this kind of thing from happening.

"Nothing about approaching an edge?" Reese asks. "Uneven terrain? Nothing?"

"I don't think so."

I know what must've gone wrong. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, wrinkling my nose as I remember the few fleeting instants before Ellie hit the water. InstaLove is designed to alert users to any oncoming hazards, but that only works if the app can see the hazard. Ellie had her visor pointed at the party, not the pool. "She wasn't looking forward," I explain Reese. "She had her head turned."

She was looking over her shoulder at me, I add silently. But I know better than to say that out loud within Eleanor's earshot.

Eleanor's too sharp to miss the implication. She rolls her eyes upward, and her hands resume their usual position on her hips. "Well, then she deserved to fall in, didn't she?"

I ignore her, but Reese matches her best friend's snippy tone. "You have to look where you're going," she tells Ellie. "You're lucky these aren't broken."

Both of them need to lay off. It was obviously an accident. I turn toward my Eleanor and meet her sullen glare, warning her with my eyes not to say another word. She glowers back at me, tilting her chin. Then her eyes shift sideways.

I know that look. She's beckoning me. Commanding me to resume my position at her side. Silently reminding me that the two of us had an agreement.

To hell with that. My hand comes to rest at the small of Ellie's back, and I bend closer to whisper in her ear. I'll take her to the infirmary or back to the dorms—whichever she prefers.

But I don't have the chance to ask the question. Before I can get a word out, my ex-girlfriend grabs my other arm and yanks me nearly off my feet. She tugs me in the direction of the drink table, with her long fingernails sinking into the flesh of my inner arm.

I open my mouth to protest, but I shut it again. Forget it. Everything will go more smoothly if I let her have her way. I jerk my arm free, but I keep walking at Eleanor's side. I fight the urge to glance backward over my shoulder at the soaking wet girl I just abandoned. I'm doing us all a favor, I tell myself. Getting her out of Eleanor's crosshairs.

We'll all be better off if I keep my eyes trained forward. Straight ahead.

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