"Hector Walter," Avery said, "Brody's father. $15 million. She let that number sit there between them for a second. So, you see what I'm saying? " Zoe saw exactly what she was saying. She picked up her water, drank, set it back down. The math was simple and ugly and old.
Money talked, complaints walked. It wasn't complicated. It was just how things worked when the wrong people had enough of the right resources. She'd seen versions of it her whole life, just with smaller numbers attached. "Okay," she said.
Avery stared at her. "Okay? That's what you've got? I mean, I understand. I'm not saying it's okay. " Avery shook her head slowly, like she was still working out exactly who she'd ended up living with.
The next two days, Brody made his moves. They were careful moves, the kind that could always be explained away if anyone asked. The first was the lunch tray, Tuesday. Zoe was carrying hers from the serving line, navigating a crowded dining hall, and Brody came the other way with his group, and his elbow caught the edge of her tray just enough to slosh orange juice across her sleeve. He kept walking, didn't stop.
One of his friends laughed, Theo Bassett, big, with small eyes and a permanent smirk, already had his phone out, already recording. The second was Wednesday, the courtyard between the science building and the library, where students spilled out between classes. Zoe was crossing it with her head down, reading notes on her phone, when she heard it. "Yo, nice shoes. " Brody's voice, easy and carrying, aimed at her from where he stood with four others. A couple of students nearby looked over.
"Are those from the discount bin or" He tilted his head. "Yeah, discount bin. " Laughter, scattered, but enough. Zoe stopped. She looked at him. She took a breath in through her nose, slow and quiet, the way Grandpa Robert had taught her when she was 8 years old and furious after her first real loss on the mat, a girl 2 years older who had gotten inside her guard and stayed there.
She had come off that mat red-faced and ready to cry, and Robert had sat her down on a bench and said the same thing he always said when she let the heat get to her. "The loudest person in the room is usually the most afraid. " She had not understood it at eight. She understood it better now. Watching Brody Walter perform for four people in a campus courtyard in the middle of the afternoon. She said nothing.