Chapter 26: Cliff's Edge (Part 1)

M A D D OX

I'm suddenly aware of how close I'm standing to Ellie. She went all pale when she finally turned around and saw the cliff's edge. I put my arm around her waist when her knees looked like they might buckle, and she grabbed my shoulder for support.

The color is back in her cheeks now, but my arm is still around her. I should probably let go. Somehow she has me hypnotized. Her eyes are doing that thing again. So big and round, they seem to take up half her face.

She pushes lightly against my shoulder and I release her. I cover up my momentary lack of composure by examining my visor. I cue up the video I just recorded. "Do you want to see?"

She holds my visor to her eyes. "Oh my God," I hear her breathe, a few seconds into the playback. "I can't believe you had me do that!"

"You weren't in any danger."

She hands the visor back. "I was literally walking backward toward the edge of a cliff!"

"Not within ten feet of the edge, though. That seems like a safe distance, no?"

She hands the visor back to me. "That's not the point! What if the code hadn't worked? What if there was a glitch or something?"

"I would've warned you. I was standing right here!"

She wraps her arms around herself and shivers, despite the heat of the sun beating down against the exposed shelf of rock where we're standing. I grab her elbow and gently tug her in the direction of the trailhead. "Come back in the shade. Do you want some water?"

She seems to collect herself and follows me to the spot where I left my backpack. My stainless steel water bottle pokes out from a side pocket, and I hand it to her. She tips back her head and takes a long gulp. There's a drop of perspiration running down the side of her neck, and I'm staring at it. I have the strongest urge to reach out and stop its progress before it disappears down the V of her t-shirt collar.

I avert my eyes, and push the thought away. "Snacks. We need snacks." I snagged some extra muffins from the dining hall this morning. I rummage through my backpack and pull them out. "Blueberry or chocolate chip?"

She ignores both options and sinks down on a large rock. She takes another long drag of water and then extends the bottle toward me. "I'm not hungry," she says. She takes off her sandals and flexes her bare feet, closing her eyes with a sigh.

"You paint your toenails," I observe.

I shouldn't have said anything. Her eyes fly back open and she looks suddenly self-conscious.  She draws her knees up to her chest and covers her toes with her hands.

"Don't hide them," I say, grinning. "They're cute."

I expect her to blush. I haven't missed the way her face changes color any time I look at her a certain way or accidentally brush her arm. This time, though, she glowers at her feet.

Great. She's pissed. I'm not even in a relationship with this girl, but I'm already in the doghouse. Not an unfamiliar position, I'll admit. If my relationships had a ship name, I know what it would be.

MadEleanor.

Or maybe just MadEl.

I'm going to have to smooth things over. I know how this routine goes. Same old, same old... maybe slightly revised for MadEl 2.0:

I wonder if that rock she's sitting on is big enough for both of us. Probably, if we squeeze. "Move over," I tell her as I wedge myself beside her. She inches sideways, perched precariously at the far edge of the rock, with a half-inch buffer zone of space between us. If she scooted any farther, she'd slide right off the edge.

Wow, she's really not a fan of mine right now. The fact is, I know why... and it has nothing to do with my choice of venue for our beta test. "Listen," I say, clearing my throat. "I know you heard me talking to Eleanor this morning."

Her head snaps sideways. That took her by surprise.

"You aren't exactly super-spy material," I explain.

"No. I—" she stammers and her face goes best red once again. "I didn't mean to spy—"

"It's fine," I cut her off. "I should probably explain."

"Whatever. I have no interest in getting in between the two of you."

Crap. There's only one way to fix this. I have to tell her truth--or at least a portion of it. "There's nothing to get between. Eleanor and I broke up."

Ellie stares at me for a long moment. I can tell what she's thinking from the look on her face. She's trying to decide whether to believe me. "Did anyone tell her?" she asks at last. "Because she sure acts like you're still together."

I look away, flicking a clump of dirt from the fabric of my khaki trousers. "She just wants to keep it on the down-low for a while. I agreed to go along with it."

That makes Ellie frown, although she bites her lip to cover it. "Do you always go along with everything she says?"

Ouch. I'm not really that pathetic, am I? "It's the price I pay," I tell her, keeping my eyes averted and my words purposely vague. "The price of admission."

"What does that mean?"

For some reason, I can't get my ex-girlfriend's voice out of my head right now. "One phone call from me, and you will cease to exist."

I know what she meant. All she has to do is tell her parents that I'm not the well brought-up young man they thought, and poof... There goes life as I know it. They'll cut off my funding. I won't be able to register for fall classes. Hell, I'm not even sure I'd be able to finish out the Summer Program.

But I can't tell Ellie any of that. Can I? If I tell her about my deal with Eleanor, can I trust her not to blab it all over school? The thought makes me grind my teeth. I grab a muffin and take a bite to keep my mouth occupied. I chew it slowly, playing for time, as I weigh my decision.

"Listen," I say at last, dropping my voice low. "If I tell you something, do you promise not to repeat it? Not to anyone. Promise."

Ellie's eyes go all wide and innocent again.

Too wide.
Too innocent.

"Maybe you better not tell me if it's such a huuuuge secret." 

Wait, is she being sarcastic?

The thought makes me smile in spite of myself. There are more layers to this girl than meet the eye. "What are you implying, Miss Sandberg?"

She stretches her feet before her and wiggles her fire-engine-red toes. "Nothing..." Her eyes are on her feet but I can sense them twinkling with mischief. "Just that anyone with an IL score as high as yours might be a little too good at playing games."

I clap my hand to my chest and rock backward, nearly toppling myself over with the force of my feigned indignation.  She grabs my arm to steady me, but the muffin in my other hand goes flying into the underbrush, an untimely victim of my game-playing ways.

"My IL score is high because I cheat."

"You're admitting that?"

"No, no." I wave my hand back and forth as if to erase that last sentence. "Not, like, cheat at love. I mean I cheat at InstaLove."

She looks at me quizzically.

"There's a hack..." I say a little sheepishly.

"You hacked your score?"

"Whatever, I can show you how if you want."

"Why would you bother?"

I shrug. "Why does anyone hack anything? Because I wanted to see if I could."

She nods, looking thoughtful. I can't quite read the look on her face. It's almost like she's seeing me for the first time. She pinches her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger. It's kind of cute, that gesture. I've seen her do it before when she was staring at her computer, in the middle of a work session.

I wait in silence as she studies me. Finally she speaks. "Did you hack the cameras too?"

"Huh?"

"The surveillance cameras," she explains. "Is that how you're always breaking curfew without getting caught?"

"Oh yeah." I nod. "I can show you that too, if you want."

"OK," she says slowly. "Or you could apply one-sixteenth of that much effort to working on our actual project."

"Hey!" Definitely sarcasm. I'm kind of loving this sassy version of Ellie. Where did she come from, anyway? "I worked on our project! I debugged your buggy-ass code!"

She rolls her eyes. "There were only bugs because I put them there on purpose."

What? "Why? I worked on that for three hours!"

Now she's the one who looks sheepish. She gives a one-shouldered shrug. "I was annoyed with you."

"So you sabotaged your own program?"

"I heard what you said to Eleanor. You just partnered with me so you can coast..."

She's still staring at her toenails, but her voice just went a little flat. Now we're getting to the heart of it. I forgot about that part. Oops. I squeeze my eyes shut and wrinkle my nose. "That wasn't true. I just said that because..."

My voice trails off. How do I explain this without coming off like a total player?

Which is obviously what Ellie thinks I am.

Which is bothering me way more than it should...

"It's... complicated." I break off with a sigh, choosing my words carefully. I keep going back and forth in my mind about how much of the truth to reveal to her--or far I want this thing with Ellie to go.

Nowhere, a part of my brain screams at me. This thing with Ellie should go nowhere. Not if I'm being smart.

But I'm not being smart. My brain has very little to do with the way I'm feeling--the way I've felt since I met Ellie on day one. I can't deny the way she has me all tied up in knots.

God, why am I so weak?

Maybe... maybe if I'm careful. Maybe if we stick to places like The Overlook... Secluded spots, free from prying eyes... Maybe if I draw a line and promise myself not to cross it. Nothing that could be construed as cheating in a relationship. No kissing. Just flirting. That should be OK, right? Innocent flirtation. Surely, my ex-girlfriend won't ruin my life for that...

Ellie finally pulls her eyes off her feet and looks me square in the face. I can tell she's trying to decide whether to trust a word I say.

"It's complicated," I repeat. "I can't just tell Eleanor to piss off. Not without serious repercussions."

"So are you in a relationship with her or not?"

Her hand rests on the rock between us. I cover it lightly with my own. "I broke up with her, but I agreed to act like we're still together... and not, you know. Not, like, pursue anyone else. Romantically, that is. No hookups. Not until after the Summer Program is over." This is mildly humiliating, saying it out loud. Now I'm the one stumbling over my words.

Does Ellie believe any of it? I can't tell. All I know is, her cheeks went pink. She's staring at our hands. Obviously, I'm not the only person with mixed feelings sitting on this rock.

I need her to believe me, but words are cheap. Actions speak much louder. I'm going to have get off my butt and do something to prove to her that I'm not lying.

And I have a pretty good idea what it should be.

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