Lower Than Lowercase
I stare up at the popcorn ceiling of my dorm room, with my blanket pulled up to my chin. My sopping clothes lay on the floor in a ball. I should wring them out before I go to sleep tonight. Otherwise, I’ll awaken to a room that smells of swimming pool chlorine and mildew. But I can’t summon the energy to move.
My InSight Visor sits atop my desk. My eyes dart toward it. I should put it away inside a drawer, or at least turn the lenses to face the wall instead of my bed. I can’t shake the sensation that it’s watching me.
Judging me, like everyone else here at Winthrop. They all stood around in a semicircle, witnessing my clumsiness. I pull the blanket over my face as if to block their view. I thought it was bad when those girls renamed me “Lowercase,” but tonight, my social status plunged far lower.
Nine feet lower, to be precise: the depth of Dr. Carlyle’s swimming pool.
So much for my love affair with my visor. That didn’t last long. I still haven’t figured out how to use it to make phone calls, and my parents are expecting me to check in with them tonight. I should retrieve my phone. Call home and tell them this program was a huge mistake. If they set out first thing tomorrow morning, they could be here by noon to pick me up.
But the thought of explaining what happened to my mom and dad only makes me feel worse. I flip over onto my stomach and bury my face in my pillow. I can’t do it. I can’t face talking to anyone. I’ll just stay here in bed for the next three weeks until they come to fetch me as scheduled. They’ll park their car in Winthrop Academy’s U-shaped driveway and march proudly into the Maker Fair to see what their brilliant offspring made. They’ll search and search for my name among the other students’ projects, until finally, they find me. Here. In this bed. With my face buried in this pillow.
I’ll tell them what I made for Maker Fair. I made a fool of myself. And the whole project took me less than a day to complete!
A muffled sound escapes my throat, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. Maybe this evening’s events will seem funny to me at some point. Even in my misery, some portion of my brain knows that… But it’ll take me longer than three weeks to get there.
For now, there’s only one thing I can do. Tuck those smart glasses safely inside my desk and leave them there untouched. Never look at the world again through those traitorous lenses. Forget Reese. Forget Samirah. Forget my whole hard-won column full of InstaFriends.
But can I really forget Maddox?
I let out a loud sniff. Out of all those people ogling me as I pushed my way past and ran for the garden gate, Maddox was the only one not watching. Eleanor grabbed him by the hand and dragged him away. He went without a backward glance. He’s obviously in a relationship with her—a girl light-years out of my league. What in the world made me think that he was flirting with me?
My thoughts are interrupted by a soft knock at my door.
Knock, knock, knock-knock-knock.
That must be Ms. Cleary, the resident adviser. She left the party before my graceful swan dive into loserdom, but she probably heard the story by now. No doubt Dr. Carlyle told her to check up on me, and I’d rather smother myself with this pillow than face her.
“I’m fine,” I call out, lifting my head an inch. “No worries. Totally fine!”
The door clicks open a sliver. A voice penetrates through the crack, whispering my name. That’s not Ms. Cleary. Is that—
“Nora? Are you awake?”
I scramble out of bed. My heart thumps loudly as my eyes fly to the door, and my thoughts shatter into a million disjointed fragments.
Him.
Maddox.
Here.
Now.
Outside my door.
Saying my name.
Maddox came to check on me.
What is life?
“Just a sec!” I thrust my fingers through my mussed-up hair, full of knots and tangles. At least it’s clean. I showered to rinse off the pool water before I got in bed. I’m not still naked, am I? I look down with a strangled wheeze, but I exhale again at the sight of my striped cotton pajamas.
“Hurry up!” he whispers through the crack. “I’m not supposed to be here!”
My pajama top bunches weirdly at my waist. I missed a button when I did it up, but I don’t have time to fix it…or to think about what he meant. He’s not supposed to be here. Because he’ll get in trouble with the RA at one end of the corridor? Or with his girlfriend at the other?
“Nora!” he whisper-yells, his voice growing more urgent. “Let me in!”
I swing the door open. Maddox stands before me in a short-sleeved polo shirt, rubbing his arms for warmth. I can’t tear my eyes away from his shirtsleeves, clinging to his biceps, bunching and gathering as his hands run up and down.
Well, this is a first. I’ve never been alone before with a boy who possessed biceps. Except maybe my PE teacher, Mr. Greene. I had to stay after that one time… And he probably had some muscle definition hiding underneath that thick coat of grizzled arm hair. But Maddox’s arms are… What’s the word I’m looking for here?
Nice.
Nice arms.
How did I not notice those before?
“Hey,” he says, seemingly unaware I had a whole conversation with myself in the time it took for him to draw breath. He slips through the door and tugs it closed behind him. A warning flares in some corner of my mind. Didn’t my orientation packet say something about dormitory rules?
Students will be housed in supervised dormitories…
Students will adhere to a strict 8:00 p.m. curfew…
Students visiting dormitory rooms to which they have not been assigned will keep doors open and remain in full view of hallway cameras at all times…
I should probably tell him. I don’t want to get in trouble. But those arms… He even has muscles in his forearms. How did I not see those at the party? Didn’t his InstaLove avatar have arms?
Oh wait. No. I remember now. I close my eyes as I realize. I didn’t see his arms because they were covered. Maddox, unlike some people in this room, dressed appropriately for the program’s opening soirée. He donned that fitted polo shirt underneath a—
“Blazer,” I say out loud.
He points a finger at me to confirm the reason for his presence. “Yeah. I kind of need that back.”
The blood races to my cheeks. I completely stole his jacket. He draped it around my shoulders as I sat shivering at the side of the pool, and I kept it on for my frantic flight back here to Fenmore Hall. Now it sits in a ball on my floor, tangled up with my disgusting shorts and T-shirt. I lunge to pick it up before he sees.
“Sorry!” I cringe as I hold it up to the light. No stains, miraculously. “I didn’t mean to—I can get this dry-cleaned.”
“No, no.” He takes it from me, shaking out the wrinkles. He sniffs at the lapel. “It’s fine. Smells like…”
Like chlorine and humiliation?
He sniffs again, more deeply. Then he breaks into that grin of his, full of mischief. “Smells like a drowned bunny rabbit. Here, try it. It’s nice.”
He holds it out to me to smell for myself, but I stumble backward onto my bed. My hands rise to my face to hide my flaming cheeks, but I’m laughing through my fingers. “Sorry,” I whimper.
His perfect arms disappear inside the blazer’s sleeves. “No problem.” He tugs at the collar and fastens the top button. “I should probably go though.” He glances toward my door.
Oh right. The door. I point at it. “Are we going to get in trouble for that?”
His grin goes crooked. “Nah, I took care of it.”
“What do you mean, you—”
He cocks his head sideways, and his hair flops over, covering his left eye. “This is my third summer here,” he says softly. “I know my way around.”
I swallow. Something about the way he said that seemed…
He’s not flirting with you, Nora. I’m imagining it. Obviously. My eyes dart away from his, moving randomly until they come to rest on my desk. My glasses sit where I left them on the desktop. I move to pick them up, pretending to examine them so I don’t have to meet his eyes again.
“Are they still working OK?” he asks.
The blue LED light glares at me, bright as ever. “I think so.”
“Good.” I can hear him smiling. “Because you picked the wrong choice last time.”
My head jerks up. I suddenly remember the prompt when he approached me at the party.
Hey, Nora, remember Maddox? Mutual attraction detected! Do you:
A) Blow him a kiss?
B) Run away like a scared little rabbit?
Mutual attraction? And then his avatar blew a kiss?
But that can’t be. He has a girlfriend. Eleanor. There’s no way he—
No.
No, no.
No, no, no.
I’m misinterpreting. Maybe Maddox didn’t see the same prompt I did. He must have been prompted something different. Something where blowing a kiss would seem totally innocent and normal. Something like… Oh, I don’t know…
This awkward person is blocking your view of someone you actually find attractive. Do you:
A) Politely ask her to move?
B) Pretend she’s invisible and blow a kiss to the person standing behind her?
Right. And it must have been the other Eleanor standing behind me. Obviously.
“I should go,” Maddox says. He turns to leave. “See you around.”
“Bye,” I manage weakly.
I go to shut the door behind him, and his soft voice floats back to me over his shoulder. His parting words throw my thoughts into a whole new disarray. There’s no one else in the hallway. No mistaking the way his voice drops into the back of his throat, low and seductive, his words meant only for me.
“Next time, little rabbit…don’t run away.”