Page 28 of Seven Percent of Ro Devereux
Ruby turns to us, deftly avoiding the empty coffee mug by her knee. “Ro, Miller. Thanks so much for joining us.”
“Absolutely,” I say, before Miller can cut me off again. “Thanks for having us.”
“Tell us what this has been like so far,” Ruby says. That smile is stuck on her like permafrost; it barely moves when she speaks. “You two create an app for your school project, it suddenly goes viral, and you’re all over the news.” She widens her eyes indulgently. “That’s got to be wild.”
“Well,Imade the app,” I say. “To be clear.”
There’s a tense little silence, but then Ruby gives a rehearsed laugh and says, “Credit where credit’s due.”
“And yes,” I say, glancing at the audience. The lights are too bright to make them out; they’re a sea of legs and sneakers. “It’s been completely wild. I knew MASH was a fun idea, but I never expected so many people to agree.”
“It’s really not so surprising,” Miller says. His voice is casual and even as he shrugs at Ruby. “Ro took a kitschy kids’ game, something universally popular with a lot of nostalgic value and very little complexity, and brought it into the digital age. It was bound to appeal to the masses.”
In my mind, I watch my head turn to face him like the dummy inThe Exorcist. But even as I stare at him, Miller keeps looking at Ruby.Whatdid he just fucking say? This time, when Ruby laughs, it’s even more uncomfortable.
“Kitschy as it may be,” I bite out, “MASH as I’ve reimagined it is incredibly complex.” I throw a look at Miller that I can only hope is scalding enough to hurt him. “I’m sure you know, Ruby, that to get your MASH results you have to take a hundred-question survey based on the latest research in behavioral science.”
“That’s right,” Ruby says, and I watch her jump onto this info like it’s the last lifeboat on theTitanic. “Tell us more about the science, here, Ro. Our brains can predict the future?”
“They sure can,” I say. I cue up the right messaging point from Jazz’s document and serve it to Ruby on a silver platter. “Human behavior is incredibly predictable. MASH’s survey collects all of a user’s relevant nature and nurture information, then runs it through an algorithm to predict their future based on dependable, human patterns. It’s all rooted in science.”
“Fascinating,” Ruby says. She turns to Miller, and I think,Don’t look at him.My skin is very, very hot. “Miller, what would you say to those who write Ro’s app off as a gimmick? Who don’t believe the science?”
“Come on, Ruby,” Miller says. He’s so calm and collected and I can’t even believe him, how good of a liar he’s become. “Ro doesn’t need me to protect her.”
I blink at the side of Miller’s face, watch him smile as his words meet me like a torch. The instant, bone-deep way they burn.
“Defend her, do you mean?” Ruby offers that show-host chortle again, desperately trying to keep us above water. But I know, of course, that he did not meandefend her. He meantChill, Miller.He meant the horrible way I laughed at him in that hot living room freshman year, with Declan Frey’s hands on the bare skin of my stomach. He meant,I don’t need you to protect me.
“Ro,” Ruby says, turning to me, “what do you have to say, then?”
I’m looking at Ruby but it’s like I can’t even see her—my vision’s going blotchy with rage. I’m sweaty, and my body feels like my phone’s started ringing while I’m sitting on it, like something’s buzzing through me from the inside. I turn my chin so I can’t see Miller in my peripheral vision.
“I would say, maybe those people should let it go.” My voice betrays me, frayed and forced. “Because all evidence points to the contrary.”
Ruby blinks like she’s expecting me to say more, but I don’t. She clears her throat, plastering on a scathing grin. “Why don’t you tell us about MASH matching.” She turns to her audience. “Who here this morning’s got a MASH match of their own?”
A few cheers go up, some scattered clapping. Ruby’s got to save this alone, and by now she knows it.
“A dating app that sees the future,” Ruby says, turning back to Miller and me. She waves her bare left hand at us, then the audience. “Now that’s something I can get behind.”
Miller manages a laugh, but I’m just trying to keep myself from exploding off the couch and blowing this up for real. Miller’s words are ping-ponging between my ears, rattling into every corner of my skull. I hate him. Ihatehim for doing this here.
“What’s it like to be the first MASH match?” Ruby asks, which seems like a pretty stupid door to open considering how hard we’ve tanked this so far.
“We feel really lucky,” Miller says, verbatim from Jazz’s messaging.Luckyis the opposite of how I feel. “Getting to know each other without the stress of wondering if we’re actually compatible is pretty awesome.”
“Isn’t that a lot of pressure?” Ruby asks, gathering her immaculately tweezed eyebrows in faux concern. “Especially for such a young couple? I mean, you two aren’t even in college yet.”
Miller laughs again, and it almost sounds good-natured. “That’s right, Ruby. College is next year.”
“Do you already have plans? Will you be going together?”
There is no pause, no hesitation. “I’m hoping to pursue Classical Studies at Brown.”
It’s another drive of the knife, a bow-wrapped reminder:I am only in this for the money I need. Screw you, Ro, and everything happening here. Your dream isn’t mine and I’ll happily tank it because I’m off to pursue Classical freaking Studies at Brown.
“Wow,” Ruby says, her eyebrows rising. “How wonderful. Will Ro go, too? Are you worried about being apart?”
