The Towering Sky (The Thousandth Floor #3)(15)
Leda opened her mouth as if to reassure Avery with a lie, only to pause. “I didn’t have the easiest year,” she admitted. “I needed to work through some things.”
Avery knew precisely what Leda was wrestling with: the fact that she had killed Eris. “She wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up like this.” She didn’t bother clarifying who she meant. They both knew.
“It’s complicated,” Leda said evasively.
“I wish you’d told me.” Avery felt her chest clench with sorrow. Had Leda been like this all year long, avoiding their friends, hiding from the world in that hollowed-out bedroom?
“You couldn’t have helped,” Leda assured her. “But I’m glad you’re back. I missed you, Avery.”
“I missed you too.”
Avery glanced down at the living room, and her eyes lit up at the sight of Max, threading his way through the crowd below. He looked tall and imposing and woefully lost. The world felt instantly lighter.
“Max is here!” she exclaimed, and reached for Leda’s hand to tug her down the stairs. “Come on, I’m so excited for you guys to finally meet!”
“In a minute,” Leda said, gently untangling herself from Avery’s grip. “I need a breath of fresh air. Then I promise I’ll come find you both.”
Avery started to argue, then paused at the sight of Leda’s eyes, liquid and serious. “Okay,” she said at last, and then headed down the stairs alone.
When Max saw her, his entire face—his entire body, really—broke into a grin.
“You made it,” Avery breathed. Not that she had ever doubted he would. Max always showed up exactly where he’d promised to be, at the exact time he’d promised. Ruthless German efficiency, she supposed, even if he did usually look like a college professor who was running late to class. “You didn’t have any trouble finding the apartment?”
“Not at all. I chose the one with the girl throwing up outside,” Max replied. “Don’t worry, I put her into a hovertaxi home,” he hastened to add.
Avery shook her head in amusement. She watch Max glance around the room at all her classmates, dressed in wild assortments of sequins and neon spandex, their hair temporarily colored or lengthened thanks to the styler’s many custom settings. Compared to college parties, she realized, it probably felt silly and a bit affected.
“I’m sorry. I forgot to warn you that it’s a costume party.”
Max looked down at his own outfit for a moment, as if to check that he had, in fact, remembered to put on clothes that morning. “You’re right! What can we tell everyone I’m dressed as? A vagabond?”
Avery couldn’t help laughing. She felt everyone watching her, burning with curiosity about Avery Fuller’s new boyfriend. She knew they were all surprised that this was who she ended up with, after so many years of being pointedly single. Max was nothing like the boys she’d grown up with, with his floppy green shirt and clunky, unstylish boots. He was so lanky and European looking, that predatory hawk-like nose dominating his otherwise handsome face.
“You, of course, look stunning.” Max’s eyes skimmed over her outfit, a black sequined dress and feathered headpiece she’d thrown on at the last minute. “Who are you, Daisy Buchanan?”
“Absolutely not,” Avery said automatically. She had never liked The Great Gatsby. Something about Daisy’s isolation—cold and alone, surrounded by all her money—struck her with an odd sense of misgiving.
“You’re right; Daisy is far too frivolous. You’re more of a Zelda Fitzgerald, beautiful and brilliant.”
Avery waved away the compliment. “I’m so glad you made it. I’m dying to introduce you to everyone.”
“And I can’t wait to meet them all,” Max said heartily. “But I need to talk with you first, alone. Is that okay?”
His words sounded portentous. Avery wondered if it had to do with his mysterious errand from earlier. “This way,” she offered. She knew just the place.
As always at these parties, Cord’s greenhouse already contained a group of underclassmen trying to hotbox with their halluci-lighters. A heavy cloud of smoke hung around their heads. The moment they saw Avery, they scrambled to leave without being asked. She sighed and pushed the aerate button near the door, then leaned back as the greenhouse’s internal system cycled in new air.
She’d always loved it in here. The Andertons’ greenhouse was on the corner, so two of its walls were lined with triple-reinforced flexiglass, offering floor-to-ceiling views of the dusted purple sky. Unlike her parents’ greenhouse, which was strictly ordered and labeled, this one was a riot of color. Roses, bamboo, and sunflowers grew together in a haphazard tangle, all of them genetically tweaked to bloom in the Tower’s conditions. A few pea-sized pods were scattered in the soil—biosensors, monitoring the plants’ levels of water, glucose, even their temperatures, so the greenhouse could make adjustments on a micro level. Avery knew that this was exactly how Cord’s mom had left it.
The air seemed warm, as if Avery’s blood were rushing out to her extremities. It felt as if they were no longer in the Tower at all, but in some remote and uncharted jungle. She pushed toward the window and Max followed, ducking beneath one of the oversized orchids.
“I didn’t want to say anything before, in case it didn’t work out, but I just had a meeting at Columbia,” Max began and then paused, as if to gauge Avery’s reaction. When she didn’t answer, he forged ahead. “One of the professors here, Dr. Rhonda Wilde, is the world’s leading expert in political economics and urban structures. She advised my professor at Oxford when he was at university! I’ve always dreamed of the chance to study directly with her, and now I have it.”