DL Ch. 07 - One, Two, Three

Hi. :) You are reading chapter 7 of my novel Divergent Limit. If you're new here, I'd recommend that you click on the series link at the top (on mobile) or to your right (on desktop) and start with the prologue (chapter 0). This series isn't a collection of loosely connected stories that can all be read in isolation, but one long narrative where each chapter keeps building on the previous one.

If you want to know whether the story is for you, I'd recommend that you read "Element 00 - Prologue", "Element 01 - A Hint Of Summer", and "Element 02 - I Hate Kurt Gödel". If you enjoy these three chapters, chances are you might enjoy the rest as well. And if you aren't interested at that point, I doubt that later chapters will change your mind.

Should you make it back here, say hello in the comments and let me know what you think. So far, a few people have started following me as I keep posting new chapters, but rarely anybody rates the story or comments on it. Your thoughts are very welcome! ;)

--------------

Element 7 -- One, Two, Three

November 8th, Saturday

One, two, three. Tap, tap, tap. Stomach, chest, head. Eleanor's bare foot was making contact with the punching bag in her room. No hard kicks, no exercise that would risk an injury mere hours before her fight. She was gently bouncing on her left foot while the right wandered up the punching bag with soft sidekicks in quick succession. These weren't kicks that would do any damage in a real fight. They were target practice.

She liked to do that to focus. Making up a sequence of ones, twos, and threes, and then she let her foot spell out the sequence on the punching bag. It worked even better if somebody else was giving her the numbers. Her raised leg hovered in the air, her knee in front of her chest. Three, one, two, one. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Head, stomach, chest, stomach. A knock on the door.

"Can I come in?"

The voice belonged to Eugene.

"Sure!"

The door opened. Before saying anything, Eugene noticed what she was doing.

"Two, one, three."

He challenged her with a sequence of his own as if that were the most normal thing in the world. Eleanor turned to him, still bouncing on her left foot. Without a moment's hesitation, Eugene became her new punching bag. Her foot briefly tickled his chest, his stomach, then came to a halt just before his nose.

Eugene didn't even flinch. He just picked up her ankle with his thumb and index finger, moved the bare foot out of his line of sight, and placed her heel on his left shoulder instead. He shook his head in playful exasperation.

"Seriously, why are girls so hell-bent on breaking my nose? First, Claire yeets a pool ball in my face, then Sarah throws that basketball at me with pinpoint precision, and now you stop just short of remodeling my facial structure. I don't consider myself particularly vain, but my face isn't that ugly, is it?"

Eleanor placed her hands on her hips and smiled at him, her right foot still resting next to Eugene's ear.

"Maybe we're just so jealous of your cute nose that we can't help but flatten it."

She lifted her foot off his shoulder and let it sink back to the floor.

"If you're going to break my nose, do it when I don't have a date."

She sat down on her bed.

"Aww, you're thinking about this all wrong. If you show up injured to your meet-cute with Claire, she'll be all over you."

He sighed with a grin on his face.

"Ah yes, all stable relationships are built on that rock-solid foundation we call pity. Anyway, I need to go. If possible, I wanted to stay until your mom showed up, but I don't want to be late picking up Claire. Is that okay?"

That question was very Eugene. He was so committed to supporting her that even leaving her alone to speak with her mother became something he agonized over. Lately, she found herself thinking that Eugene needed to look out for himself more.

"Yes, of course, you idiot. I've been handling my mom alone my whole life. If you're late to your date because of me, I'll break your nose for real next time."

He nodded.

"Good luck then. Gotta r..."

The doorbell interrupted them. Eugene went to the intercom while Eleanor grabbed her hoodie and put it on. She followed Eugene into the hallway, having no idea what this conversation with her mother would bring.

She heard two pairs of footsteps coming up the stairway, the loud clicking of heels followed by the duller sound of flat shoes. Her mother had her assistant in tow. Of course she didn't come alone.

"Uh, Eugene, can you let them in while I... um... I forgot to make coffee..."

"Sure."

Eleanor hurried into the kitchen. She hastily put her father's coffee maker to use, a tiny piece of her old home she had brought with her when she moved out for college. The deep, feminine voice greeting Eugene in the hallway was undoubtedly her mother's.

"Hello, Eugene. I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"

"Good. I don't think we've met yet?"

Presumably, Eugene preferred addressing the unfamiliar man standing by her mother's side over talking to her.

"I'm Elijah, Victoria's assistant. It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot of good things about you."

"You have?"

Eleanor was wondering the same thing. She liked Elijah. To this day, she couldn't figure out how a man like him could work for her mother without going crazy. Before Elijah could answer, her mother had a question of her own.

"Eleanor isn't home?"

"No, no, she's here. Just making coffee in the kitchen."

Eleanor took half a step out of the kitchen and waved at her guests. Her mother was wearing a white power suit while Elijah's slim black suit provided maximum contrast.

"Hey."

Elijah stepped past Eugene, who closed the door behind Victoria and then proceeded to stare daggers at her back.

"Ellie, look at you. How long has it been? Last time I saw you, I still had an inch on you. But you finally left me in the dust."

Elijah called her Ellie, as most people did except for her family and Eugene, who wasn't very fond of nicknames. She smiled at him.

"Yes, but I think I'm done growing now."

Eugene looked at her, his face approximating a worried question mark. She gave him a quick nod. Then he spoke.

"I'm sorry that I have to dip when you just arrived, but I'm in a bit of a hurry. I'll be at the fight later, though."

They all turned to Eugene. Victoria reassured him.

"Don't worry about it."

Elijah chimed in.

"Can I give you a ride? I didn't mean to stay for long anyway. Just wanted to drop off Victoria and say hi to Ellie."

"That'd be great. But I don't want to impose."

Elijah waved off Eugene's concern before he turned to Eleanor.

"Ellie, good luck with your fight later!"

"Thanks!"

Elijah and Eugene left the apartment together. Their voices could be heard for a while as they climbed down the stairs.

"So, where are we going?"

"I got a date. I'm picking her up."

"Oh, is it serious?"

"Don't know yet. But I hope so."

"That's the best kind of date. Wait, didn't you say you were coming to Ellie's fight?"

"Yeah, I'm bringing her with me. That's... the date."

"... She must really like you..."

Then their voices faded into the distance. There was nowhere left to hide nor anybody left to talk to but her mother.

"Hi, Mom. You want to go into the living room and sit down?"

She didn't really know what else to say. Victoria nodded, then followed her into the living room.

"Eugene's going on a date?"

"Yeah, he's bringing his analysis TA to my fight. Can you believe it?"

Eleanor let out an amused laugh.

"In his case? Yes, I can. What about you? Are you okay with that?"

Eleanor suppressed a sigh, knowing full well what her mother was getting at.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

They both sat down, facing each other. Victoria's expression was unreadable.

"You've always been close. Given that he's the only one you confided in before you went public, I can only assume you're even closer now."

Eleanor rolled her eyes.

"How often do I have to tell you, both you and dad, that Eugene and I are only friends?"

"Fair enough."

Victoria didn't look convinced.

"You didn't tell Elijah that Eugene and I are a thing, did you?"

"I didn't."

"Then what did you tell him?"

Victoria took off the white jacket of her suit and crossed her legs.

"Nothing in particular. Just that the boy is fiercely loyal to you. It wouldn't hurt him to learn to hide his hostility a bit more, though."

Victoria had a faint but amused smile on her lips.

"You're right. Eugene has never let me down."

Eleanor didn't like that the conversation was turning into a performance review for Eugene.

"Good. Loyalty like that is rare and useful. Make sure you keep him around."

Eleanor jumped out of her seat, unable to let this stand.

"What is wrong with you?! His loyalty is useful? I'm living with him because I like him, because he's fun. He's not some..."

She had trouble finding the right word as her hands kept flying through the air.

"... tool, but my friend."

Victoria looked unfazed. Of course she did. She always did.

"I didn't mean to insult your friend."

"Yeah, right. Whatever, the coffee should be ready. Wait here..."

Eleanor headed back into the kitchen with angry steps.

Eleanor was furious with herself for believing something might have changed. It was always useful this, practical that. Nothing could ever just be liked or appreciated for its own sake. Kickboxing? Might stand out on her résumé. Studying math? Only valuable if it meant not retreating into an ivory tower. Having friends? Useful if it opened doors. She was so fucking tired of navigating the world through that lens.

She took a moment to collect herself. As she was now, she'd spill the coffee from shaking too much. She imagined her mother standing in the kitchen and raised her leg back into the air. One, two, three. Tap, tap, tap. Stomach, chest, head. A deep breath, then she returned to the living room, coffee in hand.

She handed her mother her coffee.

"Here. You should change into something more casual before coming to the fight. You'd stand out like a sore thumb in that suit."

Victoria took the cup from her daughter's hand.

"I know. I haven't had a chance to change yet. Elijah and I came from a meeting with Representative Adams. My plan is to wear my old Princeton jersey to your fight. I haven't worn that in forever."

Eleanor grinned as she sat back down.

"Bold move wearing the jersey of a rival college to a kickboxing gala."

Victoria took an elegant sip of her coffee.

"I'm not concerned. I've got somebody nearby who I know can throw a punch."

Eleanor got a bit flustered by the indirect compliment. She took a sip of coffee herself. Then they settled into an awkward silence. Her mother cast her the occasional glance, perfectly content to let her daughter guide the conversation. Eleanor's eyes darted around the room as if she were seeing her own living room for the first time. Staring out the window, she finally asked something she really wanted to know.

"Mom, why did you hire Elijah as your assistant? No offense, but the guy seems to be the opposite of you in every regard."

Victoria raised an eyebrow. Had the question surprised her? She set her coffee down on the table.

"If you're ever in a position of power, the biggest mistake you can make is to surround yourself with yes men who think just like you and agree with everything you say."

There was her mother's pragmatism again.

"But more than that, you shouldn't underestimate Elijah. That man is no pushover despite his friendly demeanor. He's similar to your friend in that regard."

She had to admit that her mother was right. Eugene was incredibly kind and patient. But when Eleanor had groped him, he had pushed her off him and drawn a clear boundary.

Eleanor didn't know how to naturally pivot to the question she actually wanted to ask. So she simply asked it.

"And, um, what... what qualities did you see in Anthony Robertson? Or was that different because you were still in school back then?"

Victoria folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes for a moment. She let out a sigh before she answered. A hint of contempt and regret broke through the composed façade.

"Misjudging that mediocre man so thoroughly is the biggest blunder of my life. I'm sorry you had to suffer so much because of that."

This was the first time she had seen her mother express self-doubt. And while she normally would have welcomed seeing Victoria show some humility, she didn't want her to blame herself for what Robertson had done.

"It's not your fault, Mom. It's his fault, and his fault alone."

Here she was, telling her mother the exact words Eugene had given her when she had first confided in him. The longer she had to deal with the aftermath of the assault, the more she came to the realization that unfounded guilt was a weirdly resilient creature.

First, she had blamed herself for freezing. Then Eugene had blamed himself for misinterpreting the signs of her distress despite being a survivor as well. Her father blamed himself for not protecting her. Nicole Green, Robertson's former secretary, had apologized to her for not interfering when he had insisted on Eleanor coming to his office to sign the contract even though that wasn't common department procedure. Now her mother felt guilty for not realizing how deep Robertson's obsession with her ran. The only one who should feel guilty was Robertson. Maybe he did? He had confessed, after all.

"I know he was obsessed with you, Mom. And that's why he targeted me. But that doesn't make you responsible. I'd just like to understand it all a bit better."

Victoria took a deep breath, and then another sip of her coffee. Her eyes narrowed as she seemed to comb through decades-old memories of Anthony Robertson.

"What I told you during our call on October 28th wasn't a lie. I wondered why you were suddenly asking about an old classmate from high school. But what I said was the truth. I don't know how much I can add to that. Can you tell me what he said to you? Or is that too much?"

A question from her mother that sounded like a request, not like a demand.

"I can try. So, um, when I first talked to him, I don't think he knew that you were my mother. I brought it up myself. That was... when he changed."

She closed her eyes, if only for a moment.

"I didn't connect the dots immediately. I understood the connection only days later, in the elevator, when he whispered into my ear..."

Eleanor's hands curled into fists as she recalled the memory, the disgust, the subsequent rage that had made her punch him.

"'I love coming inside you, Victoria.'"

She let the quote linger in the room for a bit. Victoria got up from her seat and walked toward the window. Eleanor resumed talking.

"Immediately after, I only knew that this had never been about me. I thought, maybe you two had been a couple, or something like that in the past. But after our call... I guess it was unrequited love turning violent? Just tell me honestly: What was he like back then?"

Victoria folded her arms across her chest, then she turned to her daughter.

"As I told you before, I met him in school when we were 13, and we stayed in close contact until we were 20. Then I went to Princeton. He was friendly, shy, very intelligent, but content to coast through life on his talents."

She paused briefly.

"I'm not aware of any inappropriate behavior from him, either toward me or toward any other girl in our vicinity at the time. I'd describe him as overly cautious rather than aggressively dominant. Since no other victims have come forward, chances are... you truly are an isolated case."

Eleanor could feel her mother's eyes scanning her for a reaction. When she couldn't detect any, she continued.

"Regarding our friendship, I was aware that he was infatuated with me. My honest thoughts were: He wasn't the first boy, he wouldn't be the last. So when we went our separate ways, I didn't think much of it. We lost contact, and a few years later, I heard that he'd become a professor and gotten married. Whatever lingering affection there might have been for me, I assumed to have been resolved by the time he met his wife."

She walked back to the couch and sat down again.

"When you enrolled at Riverton, it didn't even occur to me to mention him to you. In all honesty, I never thought that my daughter attending one of his courses might be more than a curious coincidence to him. To me, Anthony was nothing more than an intelligent, friendly classmate from high school who failed to live up to his potential."

Eleanor looked her mother in the eye. Victoria wasn't what she'd call emotionally expressive, but she wasn't disingenuous. She held herself to the same high standards as the people she surrounded herself with. Eleanor knew that Victoria would never give her a deliberately dishonest account of what happened.

"Thanks, Mom. That means a lot. Please don't take that the wrong way. But by your own account, Robertson was infatuated with you for seven years. That's more than being just one of many boys."

Eleanor averted her eyes.

"It's... easy to dismiss somebody else's feelings as insignificant if they are inconvenient."

Inadvertently, she thought of Michael and how she had treated him.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. When Eleanor showed no sign of bringing up another topic of her own, Victoria took the reins.

"What about you, Eleanor? Here and now? Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Like what?"

It genuinely hadn't occurred to her to ask her mother for help.

"Do you need lawyers? A place to stay until things calm down and journalists stop bothering you? Help getting into a different college? Media training?"

The last question surprised her.

"Media training? What would I need that for?"

"So far, you've lived your life under your father's name. Nobody knew you were my daughter. Going public changed that. You're now known as the woman who accused a successful and reputable professor of rape, and you're now also known as the daughter of Victoria Gardner. I'm sure you're aware that the venue for your fight later today will be swarming with journalists trying to talk to you."

Journalists had already been contacting her over the last week. Even if she had wanted to respond to them all, she wouldn't have been able to. And many of them seemed more interested in her mother than in what Robertson had done. Based on that experience, she was indeed expecting a few journalists to show up for her fight.

"If you mean to ignore the public from now on, so be it. But if you want to talk to journalists and give interviews, I strongly recommend you prepare for that."

She understood what her mother was saying. But at the moment, media training sounded like adding one more stressful thing to an already full schedule.

"I don't know. I hadn't thought about that. I thought after Robertson confessed, that would basically be it."

Victoria's expression, again, showed no reaction.

"You don't have to decide that today. For now, just ignore any journalists asking you for comment and focus on your fight. And once you know what you want, please reach out to me. I know things haven't been easy between us, but I'm on your side. The world you're dipping your toe into is the world I know. So don't hesitate to make use of what the Gardner name has to offer you."

Usually, Eleanor tried her best not to come into contact with the world of her mother, the world of money, media, business, and politics. But she could hardly deny that Victoria knew this particular arena better than she did. Ever since she had decided to resist Robertson in that elevator, moving forward had been a matter of letting go of her pride, of acknowledging when she needed help. Whether it was to ask Eugene for support, to ask her father to mediate with her mother, to trust the journalists with her story, or to let a nurse examine her abused body for evidence. She had done it all. Accepting her mother's help was just one more step on the way.

"Alright, Mom. I trust you on this. I'll think about what I need from you... unless I get punched in the face too hard later today."

Her mother smiled and got up.

"Well then. I need to get going. As you correctly pointed out, I can't show up in this suit to your fight. I need to make a quick stop at my hotel room to get changed. And Elijah should be done playing Hermes, or Amor I suppose, for your friend."

Victoria took a quick look at her watch and drank the last of her coffee. Then they walked together to the apartment door.

"Bye, Mom. See you later!"

"Bye, Eleanor."

Victoria had already stepped outside and Eleanor was on her way back into her room when she heard the door open again.

"Eleanor?"

She turned around.

"Did you forget something?"

For about five seconds, her mother just looked at her. This was odd, even for her. Then, without further hesitation and without averting her eyes, Victoria said:

"I love you."

Eleanor's eyes went wide. Her brain was buffering. Instinctively, she took a step back, then another. Her father was the one who told her he loved her. Not because it came naturally to him, but precisely because he realized that Eleanor wouldn't hear it from her mother. The combination of those words with that voice and face didn't compute for her.

"Um..."

That was the first sound that escaped her mouth. What was she supposed to do now? Her heart was beating fast, her palms became more sweaty than Michael's had ever been. She looked at her feet.

"... th... thanks."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother nod.

"Make sure you're prepared for your fight."

Then she closed the door for real this time.

Eleanor went back into her room.

"Make sure you're prepared for your fight."

She repeated to herself.

"Easy for you to say after dropping that on me..."

A glance at the punching bag. A deep breath. One, two, three. Tap, tap, tap. I -- Love -- You. She smiled.