I hate that word. But at the same time, I’m relieved. Jackson really must have misinterpreted the paperwork he gave us. I look around and find him sitting in the chair across the living room, gnawing on his fingernail. He nods hello.
“That was fucking intense,” he tells me. I sniff a laugh and rest my head back again.
“No one can hack you now,” Raven says. “You’re completely safe.”
Marcella walks out of her bedroom, zipping up her leather coat. When she sees I’m awake, she taps on her watch.
“It’s getting late,” she says. “Brynn and I need to head out soon. Scope out the place before we go inside.”
She’s enjoying the idea of breaking in far too much.
Marcella holds out her open palm, and Jackson tosses her the keys to his rental car.
“Do you even know how to drive?” he asks.
“Yes,” she replies. “I’ve seen it online.”
“Uh …” Jackson looks ready to argue, but Marcella thanks him and turns away before he gets the chance.
“By the way,” she tells me. “Lennon Rose called here looking for you.”
“She did?” I ask, sitting up, surprised. “Did she want me to call her back?”
“Didn’t say,” Marcella replies.
“Well,” Annalise mutters from the table. “I’m glad Lennon Rose is reaching out to someone other than Winston Weeks.You know, someone normal who isn’t trying to build an all-girl robot army.” Brynn snorts a laugh.
I watch Annalise, still thinking about our conversation, but she purposely avoids eye contact with me.
“We should start getting ready too,” Sydney announces, sounding impatient.
Although I know Sydney still loves Lennon Rose, she doesn’t trust her the same way she used to. We can’t even blame it all on Winston Weeks, either. Lennon Rose is also involved with Rosemarie, the mother of our programming, who writes violent poetry.
It’s like … we don’t know our friend anymore. And that would be fine if it weren’t for the fact that we don’t know who’s influencing her new behavior.
“Can I help you get ready?” Brynn asks, standing up from the table. “I really miss getting ready together. Do we have time?” she asks Marcella. Marcella smiles at her and nods.
“Thanks, Brynn,” I say. “I’d love that.” And I would. Although we never liked being told how to style ourselves, we did enjoy the ritual of getting ready. It was oddly comforting. It could have been more comforting with a caring teacher, I suppose. But we had Leandra. And she’s a psychopath, so I’m not sure she feels anything at all.
Brynn goes into my room, but before I follow her, I glance back at Jackson. “Are you going to stay here while we’re at the party?” I ask.
He checks on Raven, who is actively ignoring him.
“Naw,” he tells me. “I’ll take a cab to my place. I should let you get ready,” he adds. “Text me later?”
“Later,” I agree.
He smiles softly, a little sadly, and leaves the apartment. I wait a moment after he’s gone, wondering if his sadness is regret.
“Oh, Mena,” Brynn calls from my room. “You should definitely wear this!” She pulls a sundress from my closet. It’s not really my style—I’d rather wear pants. But we picked it up at a thrift store when we first got to town after I saw a few girls walking around in something similar. The dress is pretty in a delicate sort of way.
“It’ll make you look really innocent,” Brynn says. She holds it against herself and studies her reflection in the mirror. “And boys will tell girls like that anything because they’re not threatened by them. They’ll think they have you manipulated. It’ll be their mistake.”
I stare at Brynn, wondering where exactly she heard that. She smiles. “I’ve been streaming a lot of reality TV while you’re at school,” she says. “I think I’m starting to understand human behavior better.” She holds up the dress again. “So what do you think?” she asks.
“I think you’re right,” I say, and take the dress from her hands. She exhales and walks over to start sorting through my jewelry.
Marcella and Brynn have already left when it’s time for Sydney and me to go. We check that my phone will stream directly to Raven’s computer. When we’re sure, I say goodbye to her, and Sydney and I head for the door.
