horror show that was her mother. He’d also participated a bit, hadn’t he? Elodie’s stomach knotted.
He was trying to fit in. Be a part of the family, Elodie told herself. He just wants Gwen’s approval.
She couldn’t think about it any other way. She wouldn’t. She and Rhett were matched. There was no escaping it.
The warm evening breeze twirled through her hair and tickled the back of her neck. “I want to get there already! I’m so excited!” Concrete met her feet again as Rhett’s clomping footsteps halted in front of her.
They were probably at a park. A real-life park. Elodie had talked about parks until she’d felt like a silly little girl, but Rhett had never shown interest in going. And, no matter how freeing it was to lean back in the swing and see nothing but your feet and the sky, it was no fun going alone. But now they were here. She could tell by the way the sidewalk framed the manicured lawn and the creaking of metal. Swing chains!
Not enough people played anymore. They were all so wrapped up in their careers and families, and they spent the little free time they had inside of a computer simulation. No matter how many times Astrid or Rhett or Gus or anyone else told Elodie that VR was indistinguishable from actual reality, it still wasn’t real. In VR, rain didn’t soak through her shoes and squish out with each step, snowflakes didn’t cling to her lashes until her vision was rimmed in bright starbursts, and sunlight didn’t paint her skin a deeper shade of golden tan. The way the planet enveloped them, played out around them regardless of their actions or plans—that was reality.
“Okay! Okay!” Rhett cheered. “Blindfold off!”
Elodie forced herself not to hop up and down as her fingers fumbled with the tight knot. She kept her eyes closed for a few moments after removing the blindfold. The wind tugged at the sock, twirling it around her arm.
I won’t scream like a silly little girl. I won’t. I won’t. I won’t.
Open.
“Oh.” Breath rushed from her body like from a stuck balloon.
“Yeah!” Rhett crossed his arms over his chest and rocked from the balls of his feet back to his heels. “Frickin’ awesome!”
Elodie stuffed the sock into the pocket of her jeans as she took in the six empty stalls stretched across the massive concrete slab in front of her. Each stall was a copy of the next, containing a green bench propped up on cinderblocks, a wooden stool, and, on the other side of the solid yellow line painted a foot behind the benches, two taller wooden stools.
The creaking sounded again and she swung her gaze to meet it. A metal pole was stabbed into the earth a few feet in front of a gray, windowless building. A wooden sign hung from the pole, its metal chains groaning with each listless sway.
Tuff’s Gun Range. Real Guns. Real Life. Real Tuff.
Elodie balled the toe of the sock hanging out of her pocket. “An outdoor gun range?”
Rhett rocked again. A grin fattened his cheeks. “And only certain Key Corp personnel are allowed in, so,” he waggled his brow, “you’re lucky we’re together. Without me you’d only be able to shoot in VR.” He chortled. “Lame.”
Elodie didn’t want to shoot in VR, and she definitely did not want to shoot in real life.
Aside from the creaking, the range was dead quiet. “Where is everyone?” she asked as she followed him to one of the middle stalls.
Rhett whistled at the gun that lay in wait on the oddly shaped bench. “I rented out the whole place.” He picked the rifle up, letting out a soft, pleased grunt, and tossing her a, “Just for us,” as he weighed the wood and metal piece between his hands.
“Because you know how much I like guns?” Elodie said to the top of Rhett’s head as he leaned over to wipe away an invisible smudge.
“Mmhhmm.”
His anemic reply told her all she needed to know. This date wasn’t for her or for their relationship. She was just tagging along while Rhett did what Rhett wanted to do.
“Feel this.” Rhett’s eyes were heavy lidded as he extended the rifle. She wouldn’t be surprised if he started drooling.
Elodie forced her arms out, and he dropped the gun into her upturned palms.
Rhett’s left eyebrow ticked up in amusement. “Heavier than you thought it would be, isn’t it?”
No. She’d never thought about it.
“It’s a Kalashnikov.” He articulated the name as if teaching