Leda agreed, trying not to read into it; but there was something intimate about eating off the same plate, the way their hands kept brushing as they reached for the same avocado-smothered quinoa chips. Was it her imagination, or was this feeling more and more like a date?
Drew finally came back over. The table’s view screen projected the bill in front of them, the numbers a dark blue holo on a white background. “Do you want me to charge to your separate—” he started, but Atlas was already waving his hand to put the whole charge on the Fullers’ account.
“No way. It’s my treat,” Atlas said.
Maybe he was just being chivalrous … or maybe she was right, and this was turning into a date. “What are your plans this week? Want to do something?” she ventured.
Time seemed to freeze, the way it used to right before an exam when she’d popped a xenperheidren. Atlas’s hand lay there on the table between them. Leda couldn’t think of anything but the way that hand had been tangled up in her hair, tipping her head back, that night ten months ago. She wondered if Atlas thought back on that night the way she did. If he wondered what could’ve happened between them, if he hadn’t left.
She looked up and met his gaze. Her heart was pounding so hard she almost couldn’t hear. He was about to say something. She leaned in—
“Hey!” Avery pulled up a seat next to Leda and pulled a perfectly toned, tanned arm forward in a stretch. “Man, antigrav yoga today was killer. How are you guys?”
“Hey, Avery.” Leda smiled, hiding her disappointment at her best friend’s timing. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed her arrival; she’d been so focused on Atlas that she’d forgotten to watch the Grill’s entrance the way she usually did.
“I missed you in class, Leda.” It wasn’t a reproof, just a question. Avery’s eyes flicked to Leda and Atlas, his empty beer mug and the remains of the nachos on the table between them.
Leda shifted uncomfortably. She’d gotten so excited about Nadia’s intel on Atlas that she’d forgotten to answer Avery’s flicker from last night, about hanging out today. “Oh, yeah,” she said guiltily. “I just came by for a juice. I’ve been totally lazy all day.”
“And then I talked Leda into nachos instead. Sorry we didn’t leave you any.” Atlas gestured wryly at the empty plate.
“No worries.” Avery’s eyes were back to Leda. “Are you guys heading home? Want to share a hover?”
“Works for me. You ready to go?” Atlas said, turning to her.
“Sure,” Leda said, telling herself that she’d get more time with Atlas soon enough. What Nadia had done once, she could easily do again.
As they started back toward the club’s entrance, Avery reached to pull Leda back. “Can we talk about last night?”
“Right. Sorry I left without telling you,” Leda said, deliberately misunderstanding. “I just got really tired all of a sudden, and I couldn’t find you to say bye. You know how it is.”
“No, I meant about earlier. I didn’t mean to push you, about—”
“I told you, it’s fine,” Leda said, more curtly than she meant to. But seriously, couldn’t Avery just take a hint?
“Okay. If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”
“Thanks.” Leda glanced warily at Avery and decided to turn the tables. “What about you? Atlas said you were really drunk at the end of the night? That he had to take you home?”
“First party back, guess I got a little carried away.” There was something funny in Avery’s tone, though Leda couldn’t say exactly what.
“I get it. That was a great party,” she concurred, not sure why she was overcompensating.
“Definitely.” Avery wasn’t even looking at Leda. “It was great.”
They didn’t say anything else until they caught up with Atlas near the entrance. Leda couldn’t remember the last time she and Avery had been at a loss for words.
Then again, I’ve never kept a secret from her before, Leda thought, just as Atlas turned back to smile at them both, and she realized of course that wasn’t true at all; her biggest secret was standing right there before her.
She just hoped he wasn’t also her biggest mistake.
“SO THERE I was, standing alone on a rainy cobblestone street—and I couldn’t get any kind of signal because, you know, Florence is a tech-dark mess—and this group of midTower kids comes up!” Avery was telling the story on autopilot, talking without fully registering what she was saying, a skill she’d picked up from her mom. She couldn’t shake the strange feeling that had settled over her when she saw Leda and Atlas together. It doesn’t mean anything, she kept telling herself, but part of her knew that wasn’t true. It meant something to Leda.
When she’d first seen them across the grill, Avery had smiled and waved, only to lower her hand self-consciously. They were too absorbed in their conversation to notice her. For a brief instant, she wondered what they were talking about—and then she saw the look on Leda’s face, and the realization hit her like a punch to the stomach.
Leda liked Atlas.
Why hadn’t Leda ever told her? Because he’s your brother, the rational part of her mind supplied, but Avery was too shocked and hurt to think rationally. There aren’t supposed to be any secrets between me and Leda, she thought bitterly, momentarily forgetting that she was keeping the same secret.
Not to mention Leda’s defensive, overwrought reaction when Avery caught her in a lie about the summer. Why can’t you just let it go? Leda had exclaimed—and Avery wanted to let it go, except Leda’s reaction had worried her. She felt a sudden flash of anger. She’d been so concerned about her friend that she’d been planning to stop by Leda’s on the way home from yoga. And the whole time Leda had been eating nachos and flirting with Atlas.
When had she and Leda started hiding so much from each other?
“Then what happened?” Atlas prompted.
Avery turned in her seat to answer; she’d selfishly, and strategically, taken the hover’s middle spot. “They offered to help me find my dorm! Because I was wearing your old hockey sweatshirt and they apparently played us last year. Can you believe it? Mile-high kids, all the way in Italy! What are the chances?”
“That’s crazy,” Leda said flatly, and Avery felt a burst of shame for the way she’d told the story. “Mile-high” was the term upTower kids used for the suburban wasteland of the middle floors, since it was literally a mile above ground level. Leda had been a mile-higher, once upon a time.
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