Chapter 35: Playground games
M A D D O X
Enough's enough.
I've known for a while that I need to man up. Make a choice. Stop playing games. Looks like today's the day. Ready or not, here I come.
Eleanor just caught me red-handed. I'm standing three inches from Ellie with her palm pressed against my chest. Not exactly a business-like position... but I'm done caring. I let go of Ellie's hand. My eyes skim past Eleanor and land on Reese. "Oh good. You're here. Lowercase needs you to look over something."
"I do?" Ellie and I lock eyes. I raise my brows, hoping she'll understand what I'm trying to communicate. I'm not playing. Not right now. I need to have it out with Eleanor. The time has come.
"Ohhhh," Ellie says slowly. "Right. I need to show Reese that... that thing." She spins away from me and grabs her laptop before heading to the double doors.
Reese isn't looking at Ellie. She has her eyes cast sideways toward her roommate. Eleanor still hasn't moved a muscle since she stepped into the room. Her stillness feels more menacing than any movement she could make. She tilts her head and casts her eyes upward toward the ceiling. "Go ahead," she says to Reese. "Moxie and I need to have a chat."
My thoughts exactly.
We stare each other down from opposite ends of the room. She has her hands on her hips. I draw myself up to my full height and mirror her position. The moment the doors swing closed behind Reese and Ellie, she reaches into her shoulder bag for her visor.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm placing a call."
"Eleanor—"
"Call mother," she says aloud, directing the visor. She drops her hands from her hips and saunters toward me. "It's ringing."
I move a few paces toward her. "Eleanor, can we please talk about this."
She whips the visor off. Her eyes shoot daggers from behind the lenses. "You knew what would happen, Moxie. We had an agreement, and you've obviously chosen to disregard it, so—"
"I didn't do anything!"
She stands at the far end of the makeshift platform and rests her hip against it casually. Ellie's backpack sits beside her. She pushes it away, wrinkling her nose in distaste and replacing it with her own designer bag.
"That's not what it looked like from my angle," she says.
There's no point arguing. I'm done trying to smooth things over. She wants to call her parents and tell them what a terrible person I am? Go ahead.
"Maybe I should call your parents for you." I glower at her, reaching for my own visor. "I'm sure they'd be fascinated to hear how their precious offspring has taken up a new career in blackmail."
She lifts her chin and laughs her tinkly laugh. I can't believe I ever found that sound attractive. Now, it only sets my teeth on edge.
"Blackmail?" she says sweetly. "That's a strong word."
She looks calm on the surface, but I know her hidden depths. There's a tension at the corners of her mouth that wasn't there a moment earlier. I just called her bluff—threatening to go to her parents—and I think it might be working.
Her parents...
I blink, suddenly seeing everything she's done this summer in a different light. The whole pretend-we're-still together thing... All this time, I thought her whole game was driven by jealousy, but maybe that's not it. She doesn't care about Ellie and me. She's using our fake relationship to cover something—something she doesn't want her parents to know about until after this program ends—and her whole scheme will fall through if they catch on that we broke up.
Is that possible? But that would mean...
Eleanor's visors pokes out from her bag. I eye it thoughtfully. Was she really about to call her mother just now? If I grabbed that visor and looked behind the lenses, would I see any evidence of a phone call?
Or has all her talk about cutting off my funding been nothing more than a playground taunt?
Yeah. I see you, Eleanor Winthrop.
She always used to do that when we were little. Any time the game of "freeze tag" or "red rover" turned against her, she'd always deal with it the same way: threaten to tattle to the nearest grownup.
But she never followed through on those threats. Not if her opponents stood firm.
Maybe I'm on to something here. I press my advantage, choosing my words carefully as I ease my way to where she's standing. "Why are you doing this, El? This whole fake relationship thing... What are you trying to hide?"
Eleanor ignores my question with more forced laughter, but her eyes go hard. The tip of her tongue darts out to wet her lips. "I'll tell you what," she says, as if she didn't hear my question. "I'll give you one more chance. But you cannot so much as look at another girl for the rest of the program. Do you understand?" Her hands are on her hips again. "Especially during Maker Fair. You will stand next to me, not her. You will hold my hand. You will put your arm around me. When I tell you to, you will kiss me. And you damn well better make it look convincing—"
There. See? How could I have been so clueless? She basically confessed. Her parents will be here in attendance at Maker Fair. She wants me to make it "look" convincing.
None of this is about me and Ellie. She's playing games, using me like a prop.
I can't believe I ever loved this girl. The lengths that she would go... the amount of damage she would cause...
"And if I refuse?" I say slowly, "You're not seriously going to blow up my whole life. My whole future. Over what?"
Her face remains perfectly calm. "You only have a future because my family handed it to you. And now I'm asking you—" she pokes me in the chest "—not blackmailing you, asking you, for one little favor in return. I really don't think that's so much to ask."
I stuff my hands in my pockets to keep them still. I could strangle this girl right now, with that fake-angelic smile on her fake-angelic face.
I can't take it. I'm done. If I had any lingering reservations about meeting up with Ellie later, they're gone. I'll meet up with her. I'll kiss her dizzy. I'll do anything I like. Eleanor can go to hell for all I care. "Go ahead and call your parents. You tell them your side of the story, and I'll tell them mine."
Eleanor looks down sharply. She nudges Ellie's backpack with her elbow. "Is she really worth it?" I hear her murmur. "You're going to lose your spot at Winthrop over this?"
I grab the backpack by one strap and move to toss it over my shoulder. Eleanor keeps hold of the other strap.
"Let go," I say.
"No. You let go."
I give the backpack a tug, only stopping at the sound of ripping fabric. Somewhere on this bag, a seam is giving way. I can't tell if it's the strap around my shoulder, or the one clutched in Eleanor's fist.
My eyes narrow as she lifts her chin defiantly, daring me to tug my side again.
So this is what we've come to? This girl has been the center of my life since we were both two years old. I thought we'd matured a little bit since then, but no. Apparently not. After all that time, we're playing one last playground game. Tug-of-war.
"I'm heading back to Fenmore anyway," she tells me, twisting the canvas loop around her wrist. "I'll drop it off in her dorm room."
"No."
She rolls her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, Moxie. I'm not going to light it on fire."
I see where that ripping sound came from. There's a thread unraveling by my shoulder, where the strap I'm holding meets the fabric of the bag. Part of me wants to tug anyway, even if we leave the whole thing in tatters. That's the only way to win with Eleanor. Stand up to her. Stand firm.
But maybe it's not worth it. There are other ways to win at tug-of-war besides brute force... With a shrug, I let the strap slide off my shoulder and down my arm.
"Fine," I tell Eleanor. "Have it your way. Have everything your way."
She smiles at me, but her eyes are frosty cold. "Good boy." She tosses Ellie's backpack over one shoulder and spins away, heading for the door. "I knew you'd come around."
That's where she's wrong, though. These games have been going on between us for way too long. It's time I put a stop to them, once and for all.
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