“Oh,” she said again, wanting to crawl inside herself and hide.
“I already fell.”
Eric’s eyes met hers, penetrating deeper than anyone ever had, and her instinct was to look away, but she held his gaze right back, and suddenly that wasn’t the only thing she wanted to hold.
Her hands were around his back and her lips were on his and her knees were screaming from the way she’d dragged them against the concrete to reach him, but all she could think was, Oh.
And a bit of, Wow.
And, I have no idea what happens now.
But finding out, well, she couldn’t wait.
THIRTY–ONE
COPY AND CRUSH • Setting your sights on a competitor with the goal of eliminating them from the market; often spoken of in relation to a dominant organization like Facebook
“FOMO!” LUCY CRIED. “MADDIE, FOMO!”
Maddie leaned over her bunk. “Perpetual fear of yours, I know, but is this prompted by something in particular?”
Lucy jutted her hip. “I do not have a fear of missing out.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I don’t. Because there’s nothing to miss if I’m not there.” She smirked. “In this case, it’s a club.”
“You want to go out? Tonight? I’ve just about got your presentation memorized from listening to you run through it nine million times, so I know you haven’t forgotten that Demo Day’s the day after tomorrow.”
“It’s for the presentation.”
Maddie seemed unconvinced.
“No, it is.” Lucy summoned a bit of the courage she was going to need to go through with this. “Do you trust me?”
Maddie pushed her laptop aside. “Yes.”
“All right then. FOMO it is.”
Maddie climbed down. “I should change.”
Lucy eyed her Gumberoo tee and worn jeans. “It’s in San Jose. You’ll fit in just fine.”
“But what if . . . maybe I want to?”
A bounce. Just one. That’s all Lucy would allow herself. She nodded to her bunk closet. “My shirts will be crop tops on you, but that’s so in right now. Grab whatever you want.”
Maddie riffled through the stacks, and Lucy tried not to cringe (too much). Maddie pulled out a striped scarf, and Lucy helped loop it around her neck.
A hint of a smile broke out on Maddie’s face before she reached into her front pocket. “I almost forgot. Picked this up for you at one of the kiosks.”
A bottle of nail polish. A deep mauve.
Lucy felt herself blink, not because the color was such a sharp contrast against her bare fingernails but because of the gesture itself—and that it was from Maddie. “Thanks, but I’m not so much into it anymore.”
Maddie’s grin widened as she flipped one end of the scarf over her shoulder. “Look at the bottom.”
Lucy paused, then turned the bottle upside down. The words Girl Power on the label had been embellished with the letters em crammed in before power and ed after in red ink.
“Girl Empowered,” Lucy said, her own smile as wide as Maddie’s. “Maddie, I—”
“Just do me a favor and open a window when you use it. Almost passed out from the fumes last time.”
Lucy resisted the urge to hug Maddie and simply said, “You got it.” She then slid the end of the scarf Maddie had flung over her shoulder back to the front.
Maddie rolled her eyes. “So should we text Delia?”
“Not yet.” Lucy grabbed a pair of skinny jeans. “She and Eric need all the time they can get.” And Delia needed to check on their surprise for Maddie—a belated birthday gift. It was just like Maddie not to tell them; Lucy only found out when she noticed the deflating balloon next to Maddie’s handle on Pulse, the sign of a recent birthday. Superior as Lucy’s organizational skills may be, even she was impressed that the surprise had come together so fast—just in the few days they’d realized they could actually be a part of Demo Day.
Lucy crammed one leg in her jeans, realizing this meant she and Maddie would be going to the club alone. Sure, they’d been spending more time together in the room while Delia was with Eric, but this was different. Was that why she’d asked?
“It’s okay, right?” Lucy said, trying to sound nonchalant. “That it’s just us?”
Maddie flipped the scarf back over her shoulder. “Yeah, it’s okay.”
“Cool, then.”
“Uh-huh. Cool.”
A little awkward maybe, but, yeah, cool.
* * *
* * *
Janky.
The club wouldn’t make any must dos in Silicon Valley. Between the grime on the walls and the cockroaches scurrying into the corners, it was the definition of janky.
Lucy didn’t need her Pulse tee to get in here. They just walked through the door. The bartender barely looked up from his phone when they asked which way was backstage.
They didn’t knock. Because there was no door. They entered the dark room with concrete floors, a couch in need of a case of her lavender-scented wipes, and the stench of old beer and decomposing fruit or rat or both.
Maddie came to a halt when she saw her. “This is why we’re here?”
Lucy nodded and moved deeper into the room, watching Emma Santos. She sat on a wooden chair (good call), her eyes closed (ditto), her fingers strumming a guitar (impressively), and her voice working through a warm-up.
She was good. So good that Lucy stopped and just listened. She hadn’t slowed down since the night with Ryan. She’d been in overdrive, body and mind, because there was so much to do, so much to fix, to forget, to fight for. Here she hit pause. Listened. Breathed. Disappeared. When the music stopped, Lucy opened her eyes. And met Emma’s.
And the pause was over.
“Hey,” Emma said. “Thanks for meeting me here.” She stood, set her guitar on the chair, and walked to Lucy and Maddie.
“Sure, course,” Lucy said. “This place is . . .”
“A dump. But it’s one of the few that’ll let me play.”
“Because of your Pulse,” Lucy said.
“Most venues don’t care about anything else when they book you. I could show them a million followers on Twitter or Instagram and still they’d only look at Pulse.”
“That sucks,” Maddie said. “Nothing should have that much power.”
Emma pushed her dark hair over her shoulder, revealing a newly dyed blue streak. “Was okay when I was at the top though. I’m a hypocrite if I say otherwise.”
“Is that why you didn’t write back until now?” Lucy said.
Emma shrugged.
Lucy felt Maddie’s eyes on her. She hadn’t told her or Delia that she’d reached out to Emma. Because if they asked why, Lucy didn’t have an answer. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from Emma. Not until this moment.
Here in this toilet bowl of a club that Emma was in because of Ryan.
Here feeling his fingers pressing against her.
Here brimming with fear of where they’d go next, how she’d stop it, what she’d do if she couldn’t.
Here because Ryan Thompson assaulted her.
And people had to know.
Lucy studied Emma’s stoic face. Her pulse rapped against her veins like her body was demanding her attention, but it was her mind that was in control, and her body would just have to find a way to deal with it.
“I understand why you might not want to be reminded of ValleyStart. Why I might not be the person you’d want to talk to if you did. We weren’t really friends. I’m not even sure what we’d have in common if we tried to be.” She stepped closer. “Except for one thing.”
Emma looked Lucy straight in the eye, took a deep inhale, and said, “Ryan.”
“Freaking Ryan Thompson.”
* * *
* * *
�
�I thought it was harmless at first,” Emma said. “I totally knew he was one of those dudes looking to get off on being around the beautiful and the famous. I may not be in the music industry yet, but I know what to look for. And Ryan Thompson all but had a siren rotating on his head. But, see, well, the thing is . . . I’m not in the music industry yet. And he is Ryan Thompson.”
“He offered to help?” Maddie said.
“Not directly. But, still, help in the form of my Pulse rising came, then he took credit for it. I thanked him, and he did it again. Each time my Pulse ticked a bit higher, and I was getting so many new followers and clubs were finally returning my calls, and so, hell, if Ryan wanted to talk to me for forty-five minutes about the girl who dumped him in junior high, it was an okay tradeoff.”
“That’s all he wanted?” Lucy said tentatively. “To talk?”
Emma’s head tilted to the side. “Come on, you’re not that naïve, are you?”
Lucy stared at her. “No, I just—”
“I knew he wanted more the first time his hand trailed across my lower back like that was a normal ‘Hey, how you doing?’”
The hackathon. He’d done the same to Lucy at the hackathon.
“But he was like an oversexed fourteen-year-old. I could handle him. And he made it easy. At first, I really did think, along with the obvious, he actually did have an interest in music, in my music. Maybe he did and maybe he didn’t. But eventually it didn’t matter anymore. He was done talking. And Pulse or not, I wasn’t doing anything more than talking.”
“Did he . . .” Lucy started, knowing how to finish but unable to say the words.
“Nothing happened. He invited me to a show. Gave me a ticket to meet him there.”
“That night at the club in San Francisco. I saw him hand you something.”
“Ticket to Fungus. Fungus. Sold out for months, and this was a front-row seat. But the strings it came with were attached to a spiderweb. I knew what he expected after. My dad was the one who wanted me in ValleyStart, not me. So I left and sold the ticket for enough to buy me a Gibson.” She pointed to the shiny guitar on the other side of the room. “Asshole,” she muttered.
“Yeah,” Lucy said. How had she missed the strings for so long? Was she as arrogant as Gavin? “But I’m afraid he’s much more than that. Which is why we can’t keep quiet.”
“Lucy,” Maddie said. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know.”
“I didn’t. A lot of me still doesn’t. But I can’t be that selfish, not about this. If I say something, maybe he can’t do it to someone else.”
Lucy held Emma’s gaze until finally Emma sighed. “Fine, yeah, whatever you’re doing, you need me, I’m there. Girl power and all.”
“Empowered,” Lucy said.
* * *
* * *
“Where have you guys been?” Delia said, her curls springing with twice their usual volume.
Lucy’s mind still deep in the idea she’d proposed to Emma and Maddie, running through all that needed to be done the next day, she did a double take when she entered the room and saw Eric sitting on Delia’s bed. “Uh, hey, Eric.”
“Eric?” Maddie said, twisting around Lucy. “Oh, right. Hey, Eric.”
“If we’re interrupting, we can go grab sushi,” Lucy said.
“Interrupting?” Delia swiveled her head, and a curl hit Lucy in the nose. “No, we’re not . . .”
“Lia, breathe,” Eric said.
Lucy raised an eyebrow at Maddie and mouthed, “Lia?”
“Okay, okay. I’ve just been waiting for you. I texted you both a bunch.”
“We had our ringers off because we were—”
“Doesn’t matter! Whatever you were doing doesn’t matter because we’re done.”
“Done?” Lucy’s eyes widened. “You cracked the code?”
“Oh no, we’re the ones who were cracked. Bye-bye, Natalie means bye-bye, hackers and hello, police. They’re probably coming for us right now.”
Eric stood. “She’s exaggerating. Probably.”
“Probably?” Delia said.
“We were only in the one time. And we covered our tracks, Lia. Even if they knew something was up, they wouldn’t know what or where it came from.”
“And if they do? If they find out? It’s all on our computers!”
Eric smoothed the front of his shirt. “Fortunately, orange is my color. And always been partial to jumpsuits.”
“This isn’t funny!” Delia cried.
But Maddie couldn’t hold in the laugh Lucy heard bubbling up. Lucy couldn’t join—as cute as Eric may be. Because everything hinged on this. She needed this. She didn’t realize how much until they’d started making plans with Emma.
“So that’s it?” Lucy asked. “We have no proof?”
Eric reached for Delia’s laptop. She tried to stop him, but he opened it anyway. “We do, actually. All thanks to Delia and her cow-benching muscles.”
“Cow-benching?” Maddie mouthed to Lucy.
She shrugged.
“I can trash everything,” Eric said. “Make sure there’s no trace of it. Or we can keep going. Take what Delia found and re-create what we think Pulse is doing—not on a grand scale, but enough to show what Ryan would be capable of. With all the other evidence you have, it’ll paint a pretty damning picture to get someone who can do something more interested. Your choice.”
“And what if my choice is for you to stay out of it?” Delia asked.
“Ooh, yeah, I’m sorry,” he said. “There are only two bubbles on this multiple choice.”
Delia’s grin was as wide as her hair. “You are amazing, Eric Shaw.” And then she flung herself around Eric’s neck and kissed him.
And all the strategizing whirling in Lucy’s brain ceased. Happiness for Delia overtook everything to come. She hugged her arms around her chest and sighed. “Well, how about that. Our Littlewood girl’s all grown up.”
Lucy and Maddie watched until it got . . . creepy.
Then, Lucy clapped her hands together and pointed to the Ada Lovelace quotation on the back of the door. “Okay, team, contrary to the vibe in the room right now, can we use our powers of imagination to dive into the sciences and get back to Operation Flatline?”
THIRTY–TWO
VULTURE CAPITALIST • Investor who takes advantage of struggling entrepreneurs by buying their companies for less than what they’re worth and selling them for a profit
ValleyStart: And so we are here. Beside those we hold dear. With Demo Day about to begin, the only question left is . . . who will win?
Maddie stood next to the fountain in front of their dorm while Delia’s parents embraced her. They’d flown overnight to be there in time. Inheriting the curls from her dad and the blonde from her mom, Delia was the perfect blend of her parents, same as Maddie was. Though without her parents there, no one would know.
Delia introduced Claire and Jeffrey Meyer to Maddie.
“Nice to meet—” Maddie’s greeting was interrupted by Claire’s arms, which encircled her with a flourish and filled the air with the scent of lilac. Maddie stiffened, but Claire only squeezed tighter.
When they parted, one hand remained on each of Maddie’s shoulders. “Why, you are simply astonishing! Delia gave us a sneak peek of your logo, and with that alone you sealed this, my dear.”
Jeffrey bobbed his head. “No matter what those judges say, you three should be taking your bows.”
The smile Maddie gave Delia’s parents was bittersweet. She never really expected her parents to come; she didn’t need them to. They’d only exchange toxic glares and snipe at each other, and Maddie would be trying to cover as usual. The day would be about them, not about her.
Claire and Jeffrey Meyer hugged their daughter again.
And a hot prick in Maddie’s eyes betrayed her. Bec
ause, sure, she didn’t need her parents. But want was an entirely different thing.
Delia brushed against Maddie’s shoulder, nudging her gently as they started to walk to breakfast. Lucy, though she wouldn’t admit it, was a bundle of nerves and had gone for a run instead of eating.
None of them had slept.
The presentation for Girl Empowered had ruled the night—both rehearsing it and adding to it. Because it now included the results of Operation Flatline. They’d call Ryan out in person in front of the entire Demo Day crowd. This time, they’d be heard.
Lucy had shared everything with Emma, and the two had been messaging nonstop. Though Eric and Delia hadn’t been able to open Ryan’s secret table, they were able to animate a slide to show how it could be used to override the main code and change Pulse rankings. And Maddie had memorized the coding portion of the presentation. The portion that should have been Delia’s to deliver, but she was too uncomfortable with the idea of being onstage. Not that any of them were comfortable with this—not even Lucy. At least Maddie would have Sadie with her.
Sadie didn’t jump, she catapulted at the chance to come to ValleyStart for the afternoon. Maddie had cleared it with her counselors, who’d cleared it with Sadie’s mom. That morning, Lucy would meet Sadie at her day camp, and the two of them would then hook up with Delia and Maddie to run through the presentation one last time.
When Maddie, Delia, and Delia’s parents reached the glass door of the student center, they were stopped by Tim Corrio, the Head of House.
“You three.” He jutted his chin. “Oh, you two. Where’s the little cutie?”
Claire’s eyes widened.
“Guess you two will do,” he said. “The Rye-man needs to see you before the gig starts.”
Though empty, Maddie’s stomach roiled. “Why?” she asked as defiantly as she could.
Tim shrugged. “Just the messenger, man.”
“Surely this can wait until we’ve gotten some grub,” Delia’s dad said.
“No can do, Pops. Just like nature, when Ryan Thompson calls, you answer.”
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