Elusion(18)

“So how did you meet Patrick?” he asks.

I twist a strand of hair around my finger until it turns a dark shade of pink. This question could lead us into touchy territory, but I don’t want to seem evasive.

“Our parents worked together at Orexis for years, so we’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“Right. He used to talk about your dad a lot when we were at camp. David, was it?”

“Yeah, they were pretty close.”


“I had no idea he had anything to do with Elusion. I thought it was Patrick’s invention.”

I glance away and look across the aisle at the twentysomething couple sitting a few feet from us. They’re nestled on the same side of the booth, their hands touching as their heads slump backward, eyes closed, Equips on. There’s a moment where I wish we could trade places with them, so we wouldn’t have to talk about uncomfortable things, so we could be free from all our feelings, good or bad, and just . . . be.

When I shift my eyes back to Josh, he’s staring at his drink, a shadow of remorse passing over his face. “I was eavesdropping. When you and Patrick were talking at his house. I’m sorry.”

“I suppose there is a badge for that?” I joke.

He tries not to laugh, but he can’t contain himself. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What a shame.” I smirk a little.

“I just want you to know”—he hesitates—“I think it was nice of you to come tonight, considering your dad and everything.”

“I couldn’t miss Cathryn’s birthday,” I reply.

“It was her birthday?” Josh squints with confusion. “I thought we were celebrating Elusion’s world domination.”

“World domination?” I push aside my cup and lean forward a bit. “That sounds like one of Avery Leavenworth’s lines.”

“Avery,” he says plainly.

At first I roll my eyes, wondering how he couldn’t know Avery and her loud, obnoxious mouth, but then I realize that he might not have much access to the media inside the academy.

“She’s this girl at my school who’s famous for her ridiculous, indignant, so-called activist vlog.” I shake my head and say, “She’s obsessed with discrediting Orexis and saying Elusion is addictive. She even attacked Patrick personally at his press conference yesterday.”

Josh straightens in his chair. “Why?”

“Maybe she’s just trying to get more followers or viewers; maybe she just wants more exposure and to promote her agenda. Honestly, I don’t really care. I just want her to leave Patrick and Elusion alone.”

The muscles in his jaw seem to tighten. Did I say something wrong?

“Look around,” he says. “We’re the only people who aren’t zoned out in Elusion. Don’t you think she might have a point?”

I do a quick scan of the room and notice he’s right. It’s not like the “restaurant” is packed, but out of the handful of MealFreeze customers here, Josh and I are the only two who are awake. Still, that doesn’t mean that Avery has a leg to stand on.

“Okay, if what she said was true, why am I not addicted? Why isn’t Patrick? We’ve gone to Elusion more than anyone in the test market and we’re just fine. How do you explain that?”

Josh flicks his straw across the room and directly into the open recycling chute built into the wall. “I don’t know.”

I could let this drop right here. Talk about something else, like I wanted to do a few minutes ago. But I feel so protective right now. My father isn’t around to defend himself or the project that was his life’s passion. Don’t I owe it to him to face down anyone who doubts him and his work?

So I press on.

“Elusion was my dad’s dream. He worked so hard on it . . . for years, he’d go in early and come home late. He worked through holidays and . . .” I lock eyes with Josh and notice how the tension in his jaw has now spread to his forehead and cheeks. “He wanted to make people happy, bring them some joy,” I continue. “He wanted to preserve the beauty of the natural world and give people a chance to experience nature. All this excitement for Elusion just means he was successful. Most people can see that. This is a good thing.”

“So you go to Elusion all the time, then?” he asks. “For the joy, obviously.”

I try to ignore the sour tone of his voice. “I haven’t been in a while. But like I said, I used to. A lot, in fact.”

“How long has it been since you last Escaped?”

“I can’t remember.”

He searches my face for any trace of nervousness, like he doesn’t believe me.

I let out a defeated sigh. “I’ve only been once since my dad died.”

“Why? Are you afraid?”

“No!” I protest. “Nothing like that.”

I blow out a frustrated breath as Josh crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“I don’t mean to butt in,” he says quietly. “But my uncle has this saying: ‘Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.’”

Our eyes meet, and for a moment neither of us moves. We just sit there, staring each other down.

“I should get you home,” he says finally, standing up as he glances away.