“Are you saying I’m not successful enough to level up?” She sounds hurt, and I don’t blame her. That is basically what I’m saying.
“I just worry,” I say. “You should think about what it is they want from you.”
“Should I think about what it isyouwant from me?”
“Ginger, you know what I want from you. I want to go to Burning Lad with you. I want to hang out at your apartment and watch shitty TV.”
“We’ll still be able to do that after I level up!”
“Oh, I’m sure. Hanging out with me will definitely lead humanity forward.”
Ginger is propping herself up on an elbow to look at me. “Are you jealous? Is that what this is? Agatha, you know I want to bring you with me.”
“Hmmm,” I say flatly.
“And I’m not the only one. You made quite an impression on Braden tonight.”
“Despite my best efforts.”
“I’m serious. He says you have a ‘singular energy.’”
“Ginger, that just means ‘blond.’”
“It’s more than that. He’s going to invite you to his office tomorrow.”
“I never go to a man’s office on the first date.”
“Agatha!” Ginger is sitting up now. “I’m being serious. This could be so good for you. Braden has a huge destiny—his aura isgolden.”
“Can you see it?”
“You know that I feel them.…”
“You said my aura was gold.”
“Yours is more like ginger ale. It has bubbles in it.”
“Hmmm.” I roll away from her.
“You should give him a chance. Even if he is just hitting on you. He’s, like,iconic.He’s vacationed with the Obamas. He’s got an Hermès bag named after him. Imagine dating a legend.”
That’s the trouble.
I don’t have to.
Braden finds me at the cupcake table.
I should have expected this, I suppose.
I bailed on today’s NowNext programming. I tried to go to a seminar on genetically engineered grain, but I couldn’t tell if the speaker was for or against it, and anyway, I was exhausted. I can’t sleep in an unlocked room. Not since fourth year, when the Humdrum sent a harmadillo into our dormitory. (Harmadillos don’t even live in the UK; Penny got very fired up about it being an invasive species.“Well, its invading days are over,”Simon said, disposing of the corpse.)
“Hi,” Braden says. He’s wearing khaki trousers and a navy jacket. It looks like a school uniform. Heiscute, isn’t he. In a blandly symmetrical, perfectly groomed, very, very wealthy way.
“Hello,” I say.
“I told you there’d be cupcakes.”
“I thinkItoldyou.…”I pick out a pink one.
