I walk up and down the rows of the test lab, checking each computer station, every connection. Trying to ignore the way my hands tremble. I need everything to be perfect for today. You never get a second chance to make a first impression, and this might be my absolute last shot at impressing the entire student body.
I smooth down my blouse and tuck it into my jeans, then immediately untuck it. I considered wearing a suit for today, but I didn’t want to separate myself too much from the rest of my classmates. Former classmates, I guess. Plus, suits remind me too much of my mother. Too much of her mini-me, Zoey.
A lump lodges in my throat, but I swallow it down. I’ve gotten really good at that over the last few months.
The door swings open, and I jerk to my feet, startled. I curse myself for not standing at the entrance, ready to welcome anyone who might filter in. Sebastian lopes into the room, grinning at me when he spots me. His mom trails behind him, taking tentative steps and swiveling her head around the room in awe.
He turns to her. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to escort me all the way to the lab.”
She studies him, her face a mix of concern and awe. “I just wanted to make sure you got here okay.”
Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Mom, I’m okay. It’s just a cold.”
I don’t need Sebastian’s handy arsenal of language translations to decode what’s going on here. After losing her son, she’s terrified that something will happen to Sebastian now. One little sneeze and she wants to wrap him in bubble wrap and maybe steel armor.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. C. I’ll make sure he’s well cared for over the next few hours. I’ll even buy him chicken soup.”
She gives me a tight smile before planting a huge kiss on his forehead. She looks at him so lovingly, my heart nearly breaks. When she first found out her son died, she mourned, cried, and threw a funeral for him. But she also embraced Sebastian. Maybe a little too much.
“Sorry about that,” Sebastian says when she leaves. “She’s being a little too overprotective lately.”
“Hey, I’d choose overprotective mom over backstabbing mom any day.” I rush toward him and nearly knock him into the closest table as I crash into him, wrap my arms around him, and plant my lips on his. He laughs at my attack, securing his arms around me and kissing me with the same amount of fervor.
“How was your group therapy session?” I pull back a little to study the way his face creases at my question.
“As awful as yesterday. Simon spent the entire session crying again. I’m pretty sure Eliza was high on one of her Sober Up pills, her way of coping, I guess. Veronica was shopping on her phone and complaining that she’s having no withdrawal symptoms so she doesn’t need to be there. And then—” He pauses, turning away from me partially.
I brace for what he’s about to say. Ever since the Ethics Committee made the decision to pull HiveMind from beta testing in order to perform a full security analysis and overhaul, they’ve required anyone connected to attend daily group therapy sessions, Sebastian’s mom included. Some students are handling the complete disconnect from HiveMind better than others.
There’s a pang in my gut. A momentary lapse. Muscle memory surging into focus. Jitteriness that buzzes in my veins and makes me feel incomplete. Untethered. It feels like getting my leg chopped off and wobbling, off balance, every time I try to stand up. I’ve heard that amputees report phantom sensations in their missing limb—a tingle, an itch—and losing my connection to HiveMind leaves me with a worse feeling. I feel completely out of control.
I suck down three big breaths in a row to tamp down the feeling of unease, a technique courtesy of the Hypnotist. It’s for the best, I remind myself, but even I can hear the bullshit in my thoughts. It’s only temporary.
That last thought allows my muscles to relax, tension draining from my shoulders.
Sebastian waits patiently, watching the play of microexpressions on my face while I rein in my emotions.
“And then?” I prompt when I’m finally ready.
He studies his shoes. “The other students kept ranting about how this is all your fault and they’re not going to participate today.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, swallowing hard. “I was afraid of that.”
If no one shows up today, I can’t make it up to them by making HiveMind safe to use. I can’t help them. I can’t fix everything I broke. I can’t fulfill my dad’s dream.
I force a tight smile onto my lips. “Well, then. It might just be the two of us bashing some bugs today.”
Sebastian cracks his knuckles. “Point me at those SSD drives.”
But then the door swings open and a few students come in. Simon stares up at me with red-rimmed eyes. A few students behind him all wear equally distraught expressions.
“After this, can we have HiveMind back?” Simon holds his breath, chest pumping raggedly. The others mirror his pleading expression.
I flinch. My whole body feels heavy with the weight of my dad’s dream on my shoulders. My dream. I’ve been asked this question nearly a hundred times a day since I announced this bug bash. The answer is always the same. In fact, there’s an official press release containing all this info.
Before I have a chance to quote from the press release, a new voice does it for me. “The purpose of today’s bug bash event is to find vulnerabilities within the product itself and the security system so we can then fix them,” Brandon says as he takes his usual spot at the front of the room to supervise from an IT standpoint. The one thing I did right was get him his job back. I still haven’t managed to get him and Leo back together, but they’re having dinner tomorrow night. Not a date, Leo claims. I suspect otherwise. “This is only the first of several iterations planned with different audiences. We do plan to release HiveMind eventually, but not until we’re one hundred percent sure there are no security flaws. Timeframe-wise, we’re probably looking at least a year out, maybe more.”
The group groans.
I inject as much pep as I can muster into my voice. “But the faster we find bugs, the faster we can fix them. I promise, you’ll all be notified as soon as we release the product for beta testing.” I flourish my hand toward the waiting computers, and the students scramble for a chair, circling far away from Sebastian to avoid him, like he’s wrong somehow. When I spot the way he cringes, I clutch my hand in his and squeeze, my silent reminder to him that in my eyes, he’s absolutely perfect.
The students huddle up in their desks, studying the sheet of papers left on the keyboards. Each desk contains a test script to help guide them.
This is all part of the multistep plan that I presented to the Ethics Committee, and to the new CEO, Leo, to plug the holes in HiveMind and make it safe for everyone. They hired me to do exactly that and I’m going to damn well make sure there is no possible way to hack into someone else’s account.
The door opens again, and Teddy waltzes in, holding Eliza’s hand. Like me, he’s been working part-time the last few weeks until he can make it permanent. The Ethics Committee is allowing him to continue his research under close supervision by Leo and other scientists.
Teddy focuses only on Sebastian. “Busy later? That new game just came out.” There’s strain in his voice, and I can tell he’s trying. Really, really trying. I know how it must hurt to look at Sebastian and wish desperately he was Bash. I sometimes slide too.
Sebastian laughs. “You sure you want me to play? In case you’ve forgotten, last time I eviscerated your butt.”
Teddy rolls his eyes. “That’s only because you had that game manual downloaded into your brain. This game’s new.” Teddy grins. “We’re even here.”
Sebastian pretends to consider for a second before breaking out into a huge grin. “I’m in.”
“Cool.” They exchange a complicated handshake, a new marker to their friendship.
The smile that spreads on my face hides the pang in my gut. I have to look away at the way they’re starting to bond. I press my palm to the wall and take a deep breath. The void that Zoey left on my heart still remains.
There’s a hand on my palm, calm and reassuring. “Hey, it’s okay.” Sebastian’s soothing voice lulls me back into complacency. It’s nice to know that someone can read my mind just by looking at me and not by accessing my thoughts. “Just think about how miserable she must be too, all alone back in Minnesota.”
I swallow hard. “I heard she’s trying to appeal her expulsion. Claim coercion. Sue.”
Sebastian shrugs. “She won’t win.”
Neither will my mom. The thought robs me of breath. I dig my phone out of my pocket and scroll to the calendar app. The blue-shaded box on Sunday from three to four p.m. gives me a sudden stab of apprehension. Visiting Hours—Massachusetts Correctional Facility.
I haven’t decided yet if I’m going this week. I haven’t been able to bring myself to visit her any other week.
One day I hope I’ll have the courage to confront her. Maybe one day I’ll find it in me to forgive her.
Commotion rattles through the room, and Sebastian clears his throat. “We might want to get started.”
I spin around, and my eyes widen, as nearly every desk in the room is occupied. I square my shoulders and head to the front of the room.
“All right, guys. This isn’t just a bug bash. It’s a competition.” I head to the board and write the number $1000. “Whoever finds the most bugs in the least amount of time earns this baby.” I tap the number.
Murmurs of excitement rise through the crowd.
“And as promised, everyone who helps today will get twenty bucks.”
Okay, so I may have bribed them. I never liked to do things by the rules.
“I want no piece of the software untouched. I want you to do everything you can to try to hack in. Please make sure to log every issue or bug you find in the shared spreadsheet. You have five hours.”
“Go!” Sebastian says, and then grins at me. “I totally helped.”
Fingers start flying across keys as the students work.
I nudge him with my shoulder. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I know you’ve got way more important things to do.”
“I want to be here. With you. Figuring out how to transfer cancer-free cells properly can wait. I mean, technically I’m not officially on the payroll until next week.”
We both grin. We may not be working on the same project anymore, but I’ll still get to see him every single day at work. And after work too, even though we’re still taking things slow. Neither of us likes to sleep alone after what happened.
I watch the room, everyone tapping away. This is what Dad wanted. Not for people to exploit his product but to band together to make it stronger. My chest tightens at the thought of him, but it fades quickly. This is the way I can resurrect him. This is the way he can live on. Through everything he left behind: his notebooks that I read every night, his software, his legacy.
Beneath the table, I reach down and lace my fingers with Sebastian’s. I sit here and stare out at the eager looks on the students’ faces, the guy next to me who I love so much. I think of HiveMind and my list of favorite memories. There was a time when something like this wouldn’t even rank. But every moment these days is something I try to cherish. Even the most ordinary, most mundane, most trivial. They’re all mine now, and mine alone.
Sebastian turns to me and gives me a look that can only be described as adoration. I melt into his gaze, letting it warm me.
I’m going to remember this moment for the rest of my life.