Chapter 4: The Bachelorette Pool Party
The sunlight at the rooftop pool was a physical force, a heavy, dazzling blanket that pressed down on everything. It bounced off the turquoise water, fractured into a million piercing shards, and made Ava’s skin feel instantly hot and tight. Her bikini, a scrap of electric-blue string Maddie had picked out, felt less like clothing and more like a technicality. She adjusted her glasses, the world snapping into a sharp, overwhelming focus.
Women in microscopic bottoms oiled each other’s backs with a slow, deliberate care. Men stood waist-deep in the pool, holding neon-colored drinks, their gazes lazy and assessing. The air hummed with a bass-heavy remix of some pop song Ava couldn’t name, thick with the smells of coconut sunscreen, chlorine, and the cloying sweetness of spilled vodka cranberry.
Maddie was in her element, holding court on a cluster of loungers with three of her friends from college—women with sharp laughs and sharper eyes. They were a whirl of silk cover-ups and designer sunglasses, their conversation a rapid-fire exchange of gossip Ava couldn’t follow. He existed here as a prop, a tiny, silent accessory perched on the edge of a towel, trying to shrink his new body further into itself.
“Go get us another round, babe,” Maddie said, not looking at her, already turning back to a story about someone’s wedding disaster.“My card’s in the bag.Piña coladas. Extra rum.”
The walk to the bar felt like crossing a minefield.The concrete was searing underfoot. Every step jiggled things that shouldn’t jiggle. He kept his head down, but the sensation of eyes sliding over his hips, his ass, the pale curve of his stomach, was undeniable.A man whistled, low and appreciative, from the pool. Adam’s face burned.Ava’s face burned hotter.
The bartender, all tattooed muscles and bored indifference, took the order. As Ava waited, feeling absurdly small against the towering bar, a presence materialized beside her.
“Now that’s a color on you.”
He was tall, tanned, with the easy smile of someone who expected to be liked. His eyes, hidden behind aviators, were clearly aimed at her chest.“I’m Ben. You with that group over there?”
“Um, yeah? Like, my girlfriend’s over there?” The words tripped out, high and bright and stupid.Internally, Adam cursed. He meant to sound dismissive, flat.It came out like a giggly question.Ben’s smile widened. “Cool, cool.Let me get this. Bartender, put her order on my tab.” He placed a hand on the small of Ava’s back.The touch was warm, possessive. It sent a bizarre shiver through her—a mix of violation and a terrifying, unwelcome flutter. “What’s your name?”
“Ava,” she said, and the stupid upspeak made it sound like an invitation.“Ava.Perfect.You need a drink of your own.Something fun. You look like a… Mojito girl.Fresh.Sweet.” He wasn’t asking. He ordered two, leaning closer, his voice dropping.“You’re the most interesting thing here. All these people trying so hard.You’re just… naturally stunning.”
It was a line. Adam knew it was a line. But the nanobots, or the sun, or the sheer surreal nightmare of it all, made the compliment land somewhere soft and vulnerable.A part of Ava preened. Ben’s hand stayed on her back, his thumb moving in a tiny, circular stroke. She was cornered between his body and the bar, the cold glasses of the mojitos sweating between them.
“So, Ava, what do you do? Besides ruin a guy’s afternoon by being this distracting?”
Panic fluttered behind her ribs.“Oh, I’m like, in science stuff? Sort of?” It was Maddie’s cover story. It sounded hollow and ditty coming out in her new voice.“Smart and beautiful. Killer combo.”
From across the pool, Maddie watched.The amused smirk she’d worn when Ava first walked off had solidified into something still and sharp. She saw the man’s hand, saw Ava’s little shoulders tense, saw the way her head was tilted up at him.But she also saw Ava hadn’t moved away. She was listening.The bubbly laugh that floated over the music sounded genuine.
One of Maddie’s friends nudged her. “You’re bestie is making a friend.”
Maddie didn’t answer. She stood up in a single, fluid motion, her long legs eating up the distance across the deck. She arrived just as Ben was leaning in to say something else, his lips near Ava’s ear.
“There you are, baby,” Maddie’s voice cut through, smooth as broken glass.She didn’t look at Ben. She slid her arm around Ava’s waist, her hand slipping down to cup the back of Ava’s bikini bottom, fingers digging in just enough to claim.“I was getting lonely.”
Ben straightened up, his smile turning wary. “Hey, no worries. We were just talking.”
“I bet you were.” Maddie finally flicked her eyes to him, a cold, dismissive glance. She took the mojito from Ava’s hand and placed it back on the bar.“Thanks for the drink. We’re good now.”
She steered Ava away, her grip firm. As they walked, her hand stayed on Ava’s ass, a blatant display of ownership. Once they were out of earshot, her voice dropped, low and venomous in Ava’s ear. “Having fun, Ava? You sounded like you were having a real nice time.”
“He just bought me a drink! I couldn’t, like, get my words right?” Ava protested, the valley-girl inflection turning her genuine anxiety into a whine.
“You didn’t have to stand there and lap it up. Christ, with that voice, you sound like you’re begging for it.” Maddie’s anger was hot and sudden.It wasn’t really about Ben. It was about the app, the glitch, the way Ava’s very existence was now a frustrating, attractive problem.They reached the loungers. Maddie pushed Ava down onto the towel and stood over her, a silhouette against the brutal sun.The friends had gone quiet, watching.
Then Maddie’s expression shifted, the anger melting into something more like cruel playfulness. She knelt down, running a finger along Ava’s collarbone.“It’s okay. You can’t help it.You’re just too damn cute.” She leaned in, her breath hot. “But tonight, when we go out with the girls, you stick to me.You’re mine. And I’m gonna make this up to you later.A private reward. Just for being my good girl.”
The promise, or threat, hung in the humid air. Adam, trapped inside, felt a fresh wave of helplessness. Ava, shuddering under Maddie’s touch, felt something else—a treacherous thread of anticipation winding through the dread.
The sun dipped, painting the sky in violent streaks of orange and pink. The pool deck emptied, only to refill later with a different, more urgent energy.Music pumped louder, bodies packed tighter. In a dark, throbbing club hours later, Ava stood pressed against a wall, the bass vibrating up through the soles of her feet. Maddie and her friends were a swirling mass on the dance floor, all grinding limbs and thrown-back heads.
Ava’s head pounded. The clothes—a tiny black dress that felt like a second skin—were suffocating. Every shout, every laugh, was filtered through the moronic lilt of her own trapped voice.She tried to order a water. “Can I, like, get some water?Please?”
The bartender, misheearing or not caring, slid her a neon shot.
Meanwhile back at the apartments, James swings by Maddie’s place to say hi and ask about if Ava is single. He finds no one but sees Maddie’s laptop open with the app unlocked and a rotating avatar of Ava. “What do we have here?”