Page 79 of The Towering Sky
She wanted to talk to Watt, to tell him that she had confronted her dad about his affair with Eris’s mom. That her family was reforging itself into something new and whole again. That if there was hope for her family, then maybe there was hope for Leda too.
She wanted to recount it all to Watt, to share her victoriesand her defeats with him—because unless he knew about them, none of it felt quite real.
At some point Leda had come to rely on Watt, and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him again.
And so Friday night, the day before the inauguration ball, Leda decided to ping him. But Watt didn’t pick up. He didn’t answer her flickers either.
When Leda rang the doorbell to his apartment, Watt’s mom answered. She blinked, unable to mask her surprise. “Hi, Leda. I’m afraid that Watzahn isn’t here.”
Leda stuffed her hands into her pockets, surprised that Watt’s mom remembered her. She felt suddenly nervous. “Do you know where he is?”
“I’m not sure,” Shirin admitted. “I’ll let him know you stopped by.”
As she turned away, Leda remembered something Watt had told her once—that when he felt truly upset, there was one place he liked to go, to be alone. She logged on to her contacts to find the address and let their embedded computer calculate the fastest route. Then Leda set off, following the directions overlaid onto her vision.
The Game Preserve was an eclectic spot a few floors upTower. It was set up like an old-timey arcade, with a bright tile floor and neon tube lights snaking along the ceiling. Nostalgic rock music blasted through the speakers. The entire space was crowded with a haphazard collection of old vid-game consoles, shooter games and space-invader games and even the kind where metallic claws grabbed at stuffed-animal prizes. Along the far wall were the more expensive holo-suites: the small rooms you could rent out, complete with headsets and haptic gloves, for one-on-one virtual reality. Leda saw a few gray-haired men sitting over coffees, playing 3-D chess on a touch-board.
She swerved down one aisle and then the next, knowing precisely what she was looking for. When she found it, she smiled in involuntary relief.
Watt was ensconced in a plastifoam gaming console shaped like an old wooden pirate ship, complete with the signature skull-and-crossbones insignia. He leaned over the ship’s studded wheel, furiously tapping a serious of commands, as the holo-screen before him depicted a row of enemy cannons. Leda was amused to see that Watt’s avatar was a woman with long red hair, in a very historically inaccurate dress and high boots.
“Playing as the pirate queen, I see,” she remarked, sliding onto the seat next to him.
Watt dropped the controls in shock. “Grace O’Malley has the best weapons,” he croaked after a moment. “It’s all about strategy.”
He stared at her curiously, almost warily. The lights of the game played over his face, making it seem as though he were underwater. “How did you know I was here?”
“You told me last year thatArmadawas your favorite game,” Leda reminded him.
Watt didn’t look so good. He was wearing ratty jeans and an old sweatshirt, but it was more than that. There was something dispirited about him, as if he were a muted, crushed version of himself.
“Watt,” she started to say, but he was talking at the same time, his words falling clumsily over hers.
“I owe you an apology. I should never have accused you of— I just—”
“Let’s not talk about it,” Leda pleaded. Her chest throbbed with confused emotion, and she scooted closer to Watt. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. And I’m finally starting to...”Makethings rightwas what she wanted to say, but it didn’t quite fit. “Move past it.”
“I’m glad, Leda.”
Watt reached tentatively for her hand, and Leda laced her fingers in his. The holographic waves crashed over them, almost soothing in their repetitions.
“I lost MIT,” Watt said after a moment.
Leda’s head darted up. “You lostMIT?” No wonder he seemed so defeated.
Watt’s jaw hardened, his gaze clouding over. “I botched the interview. They asked me to leave.”
“Oh, Watt. I’m so sorry.” Leda knew the words were inadequate; but what could you say to someone who’d just lost their lifelong dream?
“It was my mistake. I tried too hard to be something that I’m not.” Watt sighed. “On top of losing you, it felt like more than I could handle—that I had somehow screwed up everything in my life through my own foolishness.”
“Watt, you haven’t lost me,” Leda assured him. “I just needed some time. I’m scared of myself... of what I might have done. But I don’t want to push you away.”
She looked over at him. The blood rushed to the thin skin over the bones of her chest; she felt her heartbeat echoing in the space within her ribs. There were no secrets between them, she realized, dazed. Nothing between her and Watt except for space.
Then his arms were around her, and she was pressing her mouth to his, certain that she would never get enough of him.
They fell back against the holo-console and it erupted into a dozen displays at once, like fireworks. Watt broke away. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but Leda just laughed. She didn’t care.
