Page 67 of The Towering Sky
But Max had jumped up, throwing open Avery’s door with an eager grin. “Atlas!” he exclaimed, oblivious to the tension between them. “I didn’t realize you were back! How are you?”
Atlas looked distinctly uncomfortable. He’d jetted off to San Francisco earlier this week, ostensibly for business, though Avery felt certain that it was to get away from her. She hadn’t even seen him since their showdown at the Altitude tennis courts.
She made a slow half turn toward the doorway, the voluminous orange skirts swinging widely around her like a bell.
“Hey, Max,” Atlas said evenly; and because she had known him since they were children, because she could read every last shred of emotion in his expression, Avery knew the meaning that Atlas was trying to convey with those two words. They were a peace treaty with her.
Max glanced back at Avery. “Do you mind if I head home now, Avery? I have so much studying to do before exams. Not that I didn’t enjoy the fashion show, but we both know I’m useless at this. You’re in much better hands with Atlas.”
“Of course I understand. Good luck.” She leaned forward to plant a kiss on the corner of Max’s mouth, deliberately ignoring Atlas. “Let me know if you want me to come by later for a study break.” There were volumes of innuendo in the way that Avery pronouncedstudy break.
“Sounds great,” Max said with a wicked grin. Then he was gone, and it was just Avery and Atlas alone in her bedroom.
“You don’t have to stay,” she said quickly. “I’m sure you have more important things to be doing right now.”
“I don’t mind,” Atlas replied. Avery thought she heard a hint of challenge in that statement, but couldn’t be sure.
She glanced away. Her reflection bloomed like a flower from the mirror-screen, garish and repulsive, covered in all those yards of heavy orange fabric. She felt suddenly desperate to get out of the dress, as if it were literally crushing her. Avery reached behind her back to fumble for the zipper pull but couldn’t twist her arm to reach it. She let out a cry of desperation—
“Hey, it’s okay,” Atlas murmured, pulling down the zipper. He was very careful not to let his skin brush hers.
As she turned back around, Avery saw a flash of pink on the flesh of Atlas’s inner arm, and gasped.
“What?” he demanded.
“What happened?” Without thinking, Avery reached out to trace the scar, an angry red half-moon near Atlas’s elbow. He held very still as her fingers brushed over the mark.
She knew his body so perfectly, even after all this time. She had long ago memorized him—every last one of his scars and freckles, on every last inch of his skin. But she didn’t recognize this one.
“I burned myself,” Atlas said quietly.
Suddenly Avery realized what she was doing, touching Atlas in this intimate way. She caught herself and retreated. Her gown was still hanging open at the back; she crossed her arms over her chest. “They don’t have derma-repair in Dubai?”
“Maybe I wanted to leave it. Maybe I think it looks badass,” Atlas said lightly.
Avery rustled into her closet to take off the offending gown, slipping into a robe and sweatpants before returning to the bedroom. Atlas was still there.
“Are you okay, Aves?”
Hearing the familiar nickname made her oddly sad. She swallowed. “Do you remember those forts we used to build when we were little?”
She and Atlas used to construct elaborate forts in the living room, pushing the furniture together, topping it with piles of pillows and sheets. If their mom caught them, she would invariably freak out—Do you know how expensive these silk pillows are? Now they will all need to be dry cleaned!—while Avery and Atlas looked at each other and giggled. When they disappeared into those forts, it felt as if they were able to escape from anything.
“What made you think of that?”
“I just wish that I could go hide in one of our forts right now, to get away from all this.” Avery cast out her arms, indicating the rows of couture dresses, which were all designed specifically for her body and yet felt unbearably suffocating.
Atlas met her gaze in the mirror. “I don’t think I realized how much you hated that Dad is the new mayor.”
Avery struggled to find the right words. “It’s too much attention. I feel like I’m caught in limbo, like I have a constant pit in my stomach. No one sees the real me anymore, not even our parents,” she said helplessly. “Sometimes I think I’m going to snap in two.”
“You know you’re much stronger than that,” Atlas said quietly.
“It’s just that sometimes I think of the version of me that Mom and Dad do see, sparkling and perfect, and I wish Icouldbe that girl. Instead of the flawed person that I really am.”
“Your so-called imperfections are the best part of you.”
Avery didn’t know how to answer that, so she didn’t say anything at all.
