Chapter 17: The Proposal (Part two)

E L L I E

"You've heard of Emerson Kemp, right? He's Reese's older brother."

I sit up straight so suddenly that my chair rolls backward. I nearly fall out of my seat onto the floor. Only Maddox's quick reflexes keep me upright. He grabs me by the elbow, laughing at my clumsiness, but I don't feel like he's mocking me anymore. Not with the way his hand lingers, a moment longer than it should. I can't help staring at his thumb, pressed against the sensitive skin of my inner arm.

Get a grip, Ellie.
Literally.

Get a grip. On your chair.

I latch onto the armrests and readjust.

He releases my elbow and thrusts his hand into his hair, combing it away from his forehead. I could swear I see his face reddening slightly... but I'm imagining that. Obviously. Or maybe I'm just seeing the reflection of my own face, which has turned an ever-so-subtle shade of tomato red.

I do my best to ignore the stomach butterflies, now fully resurrected and trying desperately to escape from my lower abdomen. "Uhhh," I manage weakly. "So does Emerson know about Reese's project?"

Maddox nods. "He's the whole reason behind her project. Reese has permission to use the InstaLove corporate servers... Access to their developers to ask questions..." He crosses his arms across his chest. "And she has Eleanor, of course."

Oh right. Her. I wrinkle my nose. "Don't tell me. Eleanor is some kind of supernatural coding genius?"

"She's knows her way around Javascript and C++. But mostly she's rich. Who do you think provided the funding for all the visors?"

Something in his expression hardens when he mentions Eleanor's name. It's weird. Are the two of them in a relationship or not? "So are you and Eleanor, like—"

He interrupts before I can finish the question. "Don't worry about Reese and Eleanor. You do you. Tell me about your original proposal. The one you submitted when you applied."

"The one that sucks, you mean?"

He cocks his head at me. "Can I see it?"

No. Definitely not. He reaches for my laptop, but I place a hand on top to keep it firmly closed. "It's not—trust me. It's embarrassing."

"I find that hard to believe."

Somehow my hand is touching his again. I pull mine away and bury it beneath my thigh.

He looks at me curiously. "Tell me."

No.

No no no.

Ellie, don't tell him.

Don't.

Definitely don't.

"It's a lawnmower," I blurt. (I don't know why. The butterflies made me do it.)

He raises one eyebrow, and somehow the asymmetry makes his face even more attractive than before. There's a butterfly lodged in my throat now. I swallow hard.

"Lawnmower..." he replies slowly. "I'm pretty sure those already exist."

I look away toward the glass, too distracted by his eyebrow to think clearly. "No, it's a.. it's a robotic... thingamajiggy. What's the word?" How have I forgotten how to talk? "It's like a—self—um. Self-directed..."

"Ohhhh." Thankfully, he cuts me off. "Self-propelled. Like one of those roomba vacuum cleaners, but for your lawn?"

I point at him and snap my fingers. "Yes. Exactly. That's a much less confusing way to say it."

He eyes me thoughtfully for a moment, and the warmth in my cheeks spreads down my neck. I can't take the scrutiny. I re-open the laptop and pretend to hunt for the proposal, but I can see his face reflected in the screen.

He squints, reading over my shoulder. "Don't those exist already? Pretty sure I read about it in TeenHack..."

I turn back to him so fast, I almost sprain my neck. "Wait. You read TeenHack?" Oh my God. Could he get any more perfect?

He rolls his eyes at me. "Everyone here reads TeenHack. We all saw the same article, Ellie."

"Well, I didn't say it was an original invention! Just that I'm going to make one. Myself. It's a Maker Fair, right?"

He scrunches up his face. "You can do better."

Suddenly, I feel panicky. I know he's right. I'm such a copycat. I'll humiliate myself in front of everyone here if I do that project for Maker Fair. "But I don't have any other ideas."

"Sure you do. Just think." He touches my arm again, feather light, just above my elbow... as if that's going to help me think. "There has to be some modification. Some way your version will be better than the TeenHack post."

I can only shake my head.

"Think," he whispers. His eyes go distant for a moment. He taps his fingers against his chin. "The main limitation was the border detection, right?"

"What?"

"I'm trying to remember from that blog post," he says. He stops tapping and looks toward me. "A robot vacuum finds the edges of a room when it runs into a wall, but a lawnmower is outside, so..."

Oh! I realize where he's going with this. The lawnmower in TeenHack required an elaborate installation process. You had to bury a wire along the edge of your yard to signal the robot where to turn around. Kind of like invisible fencing for dogs...

My eyes open wide as I catch up with his train of thought. For some reason, Maddox breaks into the biggest smile ever.

"Edge detection," he says.

I nod. "Right. So I could invent one that didn't require the border wire. The user could just upload a map of their property, and the lawnmower would know—"

"—not to fall into the swimming pool?"

Oh, that's why he's grinning like that. Back to making fun of me. "Ha," I say drily. "Ha ha. Ha ha ha."

"No, I'm serious." He tips forward in his chair, leaning close. "Don't you get it?"

Get... what exactly? Right now, the only thing I get is that his face is less than three inches from mine.

I shake my head.

He rolls his chair away and stands up, thrusting his hands in his pockets as he starts pacing back and forth. "I'm just thinking out loud here," he says, addressing his words to the floor.

I stare at him, perplexed, waiting for him to continue. He comes to a stop at the far end of the table and turns toward me, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "It should be doable, right? Why not?"

His face just lit up like a lightbulb. For the life of me, I can't understand this boy. He's got me completely stymied. "Are you really this excited about a lawnmower?"

He waves his hand back and forth to shush me. "Forget the lawnmower. We should use that idea for InstaLove!"

What?

"Edge detection!" He breaks into a little dance move, swiveling his hips and turning in a circle on his heel. "Hazard detection! Remote hazard detection!"

My jaw is hanging open. I can't seem to close it at the moment. Apparently, stomach butterflies spontaneously combust at the sight of one's crush doing salsa moves. I can tell from his face that he had some brilliant idea, but I'm sadly unable to process the English language with all the exploding butterfly carcasses everywhere. "Remote hazard detection," I parrot back in a choked voice.

"Yes!" He nods vigorously, clapping his hands. "So scared little rabbits don't go falling in swimming pools!"

Wait...

I get it now. I just caught up. I feel the air escaping my lungs like a deflating balloon. "We should use that idea for InstaLove." That's what he just said... which means... of course... "You're working on InstaLove too? With Reese and Eleanor?"

"No, no!" He comes back around the table and resumes his position in the chair beside me. "I mean, yes. But you can work with us! Partner with me."

Partner?

Partner with...

"Come on, it's perfect!" He clenches his hands into fists and drums them rhythmically against his knees. "Reese and Eleanor can handle the AR implementation. You and I will focus on improving the hazard alert system."

Partner with Maddox?

OK. Of all the terrible ideas, that has to be the worst.

Right?

Right?

He holds out his hand to shake on it, waiting for my reply. I look down at his outstretched palm. I'm not sure how long I might have sat there, staring at it, but he loses patience after a second or two. He grabs my hand from where it rests at my side and pumps it twice. "This is awesome. Reese will be stoked!"

Stoked? "Let's just say your heading into hazardous terrain." I believe those were Reese's exact words, not half an hour previously. She'll be stoked all right. She didn't even know the half of it.

I shouldn't do this. Definitely not.

Maddox's hand engulfs mine, and I squeeze gently to signal my agreement. He grins and spins my laptop away from me, pulling up my blank proposal. His fingers flash across the keys as he picks up where I left off.

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