INSTALOVE

Chapter 30: Toe the Line

Chapter 30: Toe the Line

M A D D O X

I sit up straight and swivel in my chair, peering through the glass wall of the study room for any sign of my group. Where is everyone? They're late. I half-expected Reese and Eleanor to bail after their epic death-match in the dining hall this morning, but Ellie?

I was looking forward to a work session with Ellie. Looking forward to it way more than I should be...

I heave a sigh, and spin my chair around in a circle, watching the second floor of the library whiz by in a whirl. I push off against the tabletop and my rotation picks up speed. Round and round and round. I'll be dizzy when I stop. Too dizzy to stand up straight. Too dizzy to think straight.

But I haven't been thinking straight for a while. Not since that afternoon at The Overlook with Ellie.

I stomp my feet on the ground to stop the chair, but the world keeps on spinning round before my eyes.

"Ellie," I murmur, raking my fingers through my hair. What am I going to do about Ellie?

I shouldn't have made a move on her. Reckless. That's what it was... I don't know what got into me. I just got swept up in the moment—all alone with her away from prying eyes—and the challenge of proving to her that I'm not some lying cheat.

I proved myself, all right. It's weird that my ex-girlfriend hasn't reacted yet. I figured she would tell her parents to yank my funding as soon as Reese showed her the interaction data. I've been holding my breath all week, waiting for the axe to fall...

Is it possible that Reese didn't tell her about the kiss?

Maybe Reese didn't think it was worth mentioning. It wasn't a real kiss, after all. It could have been if I'd gone for it—and damn if it wasn't tempting—but I caught myself. There's a line of demarcation between virtual reality and real life, and I managed to pull back before I crossed it.

That's my plan, I've decided. That's how I'm going to handle things with Ellie going forward. Toe the line, but don't step past. At least not until I've figured out a way to do it without Eleanor catching wind...

Behind me, I hear the study room door open. I sit up and straighten my shoulders as I turn to greet my fellow group members. Only Reese stands there, with the door partially propped, poking her head through the gap.

"Meeting's cancelled," she tells me, moving to close the door again.

That's all she has to say? I'm going to need a bit more information. "Wait!" I half-stand, prepared to chase after her, but she            hesitates in the doorway and then enters the room.

"What's going on?" I ask her. "Are you and Eleanor—"

She gives her head a tiny shake to cut me off. Something in her eyes warns me not to mention that name to her again. I can't quite tell from Reese's expression if she's angry, hurt, or little bit of both. Maybe she doesn't know herself. She looks startled mostly—like she's been sucker punched. I can't say I blame her. Eleanor took us all by surprise with her announcement over breakfast this morning.

Skipping senior year? Just like that?

I guess it explains a few things about Eleanor's behavior lately. No wonder she wasn't too upset by my decision to break up with her. She must have been planning to dump me herself. Once this summer session ends, she's leaving Winthrop Academy for good. She's just torturing me because she's mad that I beat her to the punch.

I wonder... Did the falling out between Eleanor and Reese have anything to do with me? Me and my bad-boy, line-toeing ways? Part of me wants to pump Reese for information... but one look at her face warns me that it's not a good idea.

"Sit," I say to Reese, gesturing toward the chair across from mine. "Talk to me. Are you OK?"

She looks down at the chair back but doesn't take a seat. "I'm fine," she says softly. "It'll blow over. She's not really going... She wouldn't."

I'm not sure that's true, but I don't contradict Reese. She knows Eleanor better than anyone. Maybe she's right. This is all another game, designed by Eleanor to get a rise out of us. A week from now she'll laugh her tinkling laugh and announce that she was only kidding. Stanford... Like hell she's going to Stanford. It's not even Ivy League!

Still, if Eleanor wanted to hurt Reese, she could hardly have picked a better way. EOF... Reese's favorite catchphrase, flung back in her face. Everyone in the dining hall fell silent when Eleanor shouted it. We all knew what it meant. That's one talent of Eleanor's that I've always found incredible—that effortless way she's able to define a new piece of slang for everyone within earshot—purely from the context and the expression on her face.

EOF.

Not just End of File.

End of Friendship.   

No wonder Reese couldn't summon up an answer. She stood frozen for half a second, stunned silent, mouth quivering, and then she turned and fled from the room in front of everyone.

But she looks like she's recovered her composure, standing before me now. Reese tosses her hair and draws up shoulders, rearranging her features into their usual businesslike expression. "Don't worry," she says to me. "We'll reschedule the meeting. It's just a minor setback."

"I wasn't worried about the meeting, Reese."

She shrugs. "What else?"

"Are you two OK? Are you still rooming together?"

"Of course." She blinks at me. "Everything's fine. Nothing's changed."

Um. OK, then. I can't help but raise my eyebrows. Reese is scaring me a little bit. Either the girl's in complete denial about the conversation that just went down... or she's faking it.

Maybe that's the answer.

That makes sense, doesn't it? Maybe Reese and Eleanor came to their own "separation agreement"—their own set of terms and conditions, same as mine. Keep up appearances until the end of Maker Fair. Don't let anyone know the truth. Then go their separate ways with both their heads held high.

But that only leaves my head spinning with more questions. Like, who exactly is Eleanor trying to fool with all these agreements? And why?

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