Divergent Limit - Chapter 7 posted

[BlueRaven]

Good Idea, but beware it doesn't prevent getting raped

[Vela Nanashi]

I very much identify with Claire right now, when a task you know exactly how to do is impossible or hard for other reasons, quite a common thing for me, though not for the same reason as for Claire.

I think Jason did not want to tell Claire that Nora and he probably broke up I think, at least I hope they broke up, that he broke up with her, as she was clearly super toxic toward him.

Good to see Claire and Emily meet again. Hopefully it helps Claire heal a bit and feel more whole and normal again.

I love how Emily tried to create a positive reason for lack of contact, I really understand that, but then having her energy drain like that is sad, but reality sometimes sucks.

Yeah I also recognize lashing out against someone who does not deserve it, because I am hurt and overwhelmed and get triggered by some thing that was not meant in a bad way at all...

Yeah those million questions are so hard to not ask, but it is good she let's Claire explain things at her own pace and in her own way.

Stupid leaky eyes, it is hard to read when they leak...

Yeah good point Emily, about Mark being likely to do this again, and how it might have been helpful to try to get some evidence to the police in the slight chance that they might catch him. Even if that is like getting traumatized again.

Also good points from Claire there, still if it were me, I would be vengeful and want to do all I can to get revenge and justice, but very few people are like me in that I think.

Yeah that tension needed to be slain, good job Jason time for some eyeses greem

I really hope Claire can salvage getting back together with Eugene, I think they deserve happiness, even if it will be complicated, but also he knows what it is like to be a survivor, so once they feel safe to open up with each other they can be a help there I think.

Also Jason is brilliant, if Eugene does not accept that answer that she can't tell him, but that she wants to be with him still, then he would not be good for her, though maybe she might want to include some type of apology even if it is not her fault, I don't know.

Aww perfect cute message

Eugene please don't fuck this up, no trying to wait to send a reply please, no "the game" or what not.

Ouch poor Jason, that the news about what professor had done made Mark's words suddenly inflict a mental wound on Claire. Also poor Claire losing a friend and mentor figure, as it seems he was that for Claire...

Have three meanie points from me...

[Claire]

I very much identify with Claire right now, when a task you know exactly how to do is impossible or hard for other reasons, quite a common thing for me, though not for the same reason as for Claire.

I think Jason did not want to tell Claire that Nora and he probably broke up I think, at least I hope they broke up, that he broke up with her, as she was clearly super toxic toward him.

An interesting hypothesis that I will not comment at this moment in time.

Good to see Claire and Emily meet again. Hopefully it helps Claire heal a bit and feel more whole and normal again.

I love how Emily tried to create a positive reason for lack of contact, I really understand that, but then having her energy drain like that is sad, but reality sometimes sucks.

Yeah I also recognize lashing out against someone who does not deserve it, because I am hurt and overwhelmed and get triggered by some thing that was not meant in a bad way at all...

It's nice to hear that Emily worked for you as a character. I wanted to portray her accurately and also have her be more than just comic relief.

Stupid leaky eyes, it is hard to read when they leak...

I think that's the first time ever anybody has commented on one of my stories that the story made them cry. I'm so happy you're so into it.

Eugene please don't fuck this up, no trying to wait to send a reply please, no "the game" or what not.

I think you will enjoy the first half of chapter 6.


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Thanks as always for the great commentary, Vela. If I manage to finish the story, I'll reread all your comments in order like a liveticker on the whole novel.

[Claire]

Element 6 - The Game Of The Century

November 5th, Wednesday

“When a series gets closer and closer to one specific value like this one, then we say that it converges. But if, for example, it keeps fluctuating like that one, then we say the series diverges - or that it has a divergent limit. A series also diverges when…”

Eugene was listening to Claire explaining the concept of converging and diverging series to another student. The student happened to be Michael, the guy Eleanor had hooked up with. Eugene didn’t know what had just happened when he ran into him in the hallway, but he nevertheless felt bad for how he had greeted him.

Still, he couldn’t deny that his compassion for Michael was overshadowed by the reappearance of the girl answering his questions. He had been quite surprised when mere minutes before the article with Eleanor’s allegations went public, he saw a notification for a new text from “Claire ∞” on his phone.

They had sent a few messages back and forth and ultimately settled on talking more in person after Claire’s analysis section, the first one she had taught since that evening at the Infinite Pint. Her sudden disappearance had worried him, but seeing her teach again, he thought she didn’t seem any different from before. Now he was just waiting for the other students to leave, Michael being the last one with questions for her.

He heard Michael say goodbye and saw Claire give him a smile. Eugene got up from his seat, walked past him, and was only a few steps away from Claire when he turned around after all.

“Michael?”

Michael was about to close the door behind him when he stopped and faced Eugene as well.

“Yeah?”

Eugene hesitated a moment.

“I wanted to say sorry if what I said in the hallway the other night sounded like I was mocking you. I didn’t know that… you were leaving.”

Michael sighed, then smiled.

“It’s cool. With the recent news, I can see that you and Eleanor had quite a few things on your mind.”

They exchanged a nod. After that, Michael left.

Eugene turned back to Claire. She frowned as if she was unsure whether to ask what that exchange with Michael was about, but she decided against it.

“Hi.”

“Hey. No Maxwell purse today?”

“Uhh, no.”

She looked at the plain black purse, a brief flicker of sadness on her face. He didn’t know what to make of that, but she didn’t linger on it.

“I know I already apologized in my text. But let me say sorry again for ghosting you. You didn’t deserve that.”

He was surprised by how important this seemed to be to her. For him, the matter had been settled with her text two days ago.

“Uhh, yeah, no big deal. Honestly, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, me too, thanks…”

Claire stood behind the lectern, packing her things, while he sat down on one of the tables in the front row. She continued the conversation before he could say anything.

“So, how are you and Eleanor doing? When I read that article, the date October 24th immediately jumped out at me. That was the day you had that argument, wasn’t it?”

Eugene was surprised.

“Heh, impressive memory! I’m not sure if I would call what happened an argument, but you’re right. That missing puzzle piece I was talking about turned out to be Robertson. How are you doing? What does all this mean for your job?”

She was about to disconnect her laptop from the projector when she suddenly stood still. Then she glanced at him.

“I doubt the university would want to risk letting go of anyone who worked for Robertson. That would be a PR nightmare. Beyond that… It still feels a bit unreal. I owe Robertson a lot.”

Eugene put his hands in his pockets and lowered his gaze to the floor.

“Yeah, I thought about writing you, giving you a heads up before the article went public, you know. But I wasn’t sure whether that would’ve been welcome after not hearing from you for a week.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see an anguished smile on her face.

“It’s cool. So, how’s Eleanor?”

He shrugged.

“Hard to tell. Robertson just confessing like that caught her off guard. Me too, actually. We were preparing for this long, drawn-out battle. Like, what if he does this or that? We spent so much time helping the journalists gather all that corroborating evidence. And then… poof!”

He snapped his fingers.

“… the opponent you thought you’d be fighting throws in the towel without even entering the ring. It’s honestly a bit bizarre and kind of… anticlimactic?”

Claire bit her lower lip.

“I get that. It’s a bit like… after everything you went through, the victory doesn’t feel earned? That must be tough, especially for someone with a fighter’s mentality like her.”

He nodded.

“Exactly.”

Claire seemed surprisingly invested in this. Was it because she had worked for Robertson? Or was it maybe because they had talked about the whole situation at the Infinite Pint without even knowing what was going on? He couldn’t tell. He was so closely involved that he found it hard to imagine how this news affected students who had more distance to it all than him.

But maybe Claire’s case wasn’t as distant as he first thought. She had worked for Robertson for years. After learning the news, especially as a girl who had spent time alone with the man, she might be wondering: ‘Was I in danger?’

“I was thinking about contacting Eleanor. It’s not like we’re close, but I’d like her to know that I do support her. She’s probably got enough people trying to reach out, though.”

Eugene hopped off the table and moved a step toward her.

“About that, I have a bit of an unusual suggestion for you.”

Her expression was curious.

“I know we wanted to get coffee together, but I’m not sure I have time for that this week. I promised Eleanor I’d support her, and I think it’ll take at least a few more days until things calm down. But…”

Did she look disappointed?

“…I was wondering if you’d like to come with me on Saturday? Eleanor has a fight. I promised I’d cheer her on, and I’d have more fun if you’d come with me.”

Claire giggled.

“You want me to be your plus one to a kickboxing match?”

Eugene tried his best to remain serious, but failed to suppress the amused smile forming on his lips.

“Well, some people go watch a movie, others go to a nice restaurant. I take girls with me to watch my roommate beat the shit out of other women. What’s wrong with that?”

They both laughed.

“Okay, as long as I don’t have to fight myself, I’m in.”

“Perfect! Saturday it is then!”

Some part of him couldn’t believe it. He actually had a date with Claire Infinite.

They talked a bit more, but after a few minutes, they said their goodbyes. Eugene was about to leave when he heard her call his name.

“Eugene?”

He turned back to her.

“Mhm?”

He saw her take a deep breath. His first thought was that she might follow that with ‘I have a boyfriend,’ but even he realized how weird that would be.

“There’s something I need to ask you.”

“Sure…”

She averted her eyes while a faint blush began to form on her face.

“So, it’s like this… As a TA, there are pretty strict rules against dating someone in your section, especially if you’re grading them and stuff like that…”

He began to understand where this was going and had to suppress the grin beginning to spread across his face as he let her finish her question.

“So, should I ask… for you to be switched to a different section…?”

He couldn’t help but tease her a little.

“Are you asking me if Saturday is a date or just us hanging out as friends?”

“Kind of, I guess…”

He walked slowly toward her until he was close enough to take her hands. She looked up at him, clearly surprised.

“Claire, I have to tell you…”

He paused for dramatic effect.

“Even though I truly admire your abilities as a teacher…”

Her small fingers felt soft and warm on his palms.

“…and my shortcomings when it comes to math are uncountably infinite…”

He smiled at her wide-eyed, flushed face.

“…I didn’t sit down next to you at the Infinite Pint because I was looking for the best math tutor on campus.”

He let go of her hands. Claire didn’t seem to know what to do with them. She took a step back, brushed her hair behind her ear, and squeezed the tip of her nose.

“Um… then I’ll let… Who do I even tell now that Robertson is gone? Maybe Nicole knows. I’ll ask her. Wait…”

God, she was cute.

“…This is analysis, not linear algebra, so Robertson got nothing to do with this. Professor Martinez then…”

He took a step back as well, giving her some breathing room.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Claire calmed down.

“So, uh… Saturday then?”

He smiled.

“Yes, Saturday we’re going to indulge ourselves in some legally sanctioned violence for our date.”

She forced herself to look at him.

“I… I’m looking forward to it.”

“I’m gonna miss coming to your section, though.”

“Me too.”

Then they said goodbye, for real this time, and Eugene left. He was over the moon, but he didn’t have much time to revel in his success.

He had been busy with his classes and supporting Eleanor. Since the allegations went public, he hadn’t had any time to relax at all. But there was something he wanted to do for himself today and Eleanor had agreed to join him.

He went home and grabbed the basketball he had bought eight days ago. Tuesday last week, October 28th, the day Robertson had assaulted Eleanor for the second time in the elevator on campus. Meanwhile, without knowing what was happening to Eleanor, he had decided to play basketball for the first time in six years. Or at least to take a few shots at the hoop in the park near their shared apartment.

He didn’t stay long at home. A quick bathroom break and he was on his way again. Eleanor had promised to join him later after a call with her mother. It was the third time that he was going to the hoop to play for a bit. The ball still felt weirdly small in his adult hands, yet also heavier than he remembered. He dribbled it occasionally on the asphalt as he casually strolled to the park.

He enjoyed the rhythmic bouncing of the ball. It left his hand, touched the ground, the familiar sound reached his ear, then it jumped back, just high enough to gently nestle into his palm, before he sent it back down with a soft flick of his wrist. Rinse and repeat. He hadn’t touched a basketball in six years, yet it didn’t refuse him at all.

When he arrived at the park, he was immediately reminded of Tuesday last week. He had stared down the hoop for minutes before he took his first shot. To his surprise, he made it first try. The next three shots were all misses, airballs with far too much force behind them. The latent muscle memory of 12-year-old Eugene was clearly at odds with the height and strength of his current adult body.

He had managed to adjust rather quickly. By the time Eleanor had suddenly shown up to apologize for groping him, he had found his rhythm, making shot after shot. Still, the ball going in over and over again hadn’t given him the satisfaction he had hoped for. Making the shots had been fun, but it felt distant and mundane instead of cathartic.

He made the first shot of the day when Eleanor’s apology flashed through his mind. She had looked awful as she approached him. Dark circles under her eyes, tired, not dressed for the cold in tight black jeans and a short-sleeved beige top. The wind kept blowing her long black hair into her face no matter how often she brushed it back.

“I… I wish I could say I wasn’t myself in that moment… and that wouldn’t even be a lie. But it sounds like an excuse to me. I’d like to explain to you what was wrong… is wrong with me. But… but before I do, I want you to know how deeply sorry I am. I… I wanted to use you. I wanted to take advantage of your kindness to distract myself from my own problems. But that’s no justification for what I did. I’m so sorry.”

The moment she spoke those words, he was relieved. The Eleanor he knew hadn’t vanished.

He dribbled as he sprinted toward the hoop, pretending to outplay imaginary opponents. He came to a halt, made a sudden turn, and went for a jump shot. The ball bounced once on the rim before going in after all. He smirked as he went to pick up the ball.

He had been unable to respond to Eleanor’s apology immediately. He couldn’t remember anybody apologizing to him like that ever before. No ‘I didn’t mean to…’, ‘I’m sorry you feel that way…’, or ‘I’m sorry, but you did…’ Hearing somebody apologize like that, owning their mistake without ifs, ands, or buts, was simply disarming. Whatever anger he had been holding onto suddenly had nowhere left to go, as if it had run into a brick wall of accountability before it could lunge at her.

Holding the ball in his hands again, he looked at the hoop. A thought crossed his mind. Could he dunk now? When he was twelve, he had been far too small and lacked the leg strength to jump high enough. But he wasn’t twelve anymore.

Instead of accepting Eleanor’s apology outright, he had told her about how he had wanted to play in the NBA as a child and how his growth spurt during puberty almost felt like his body’s attempt to protect him from further abuse. The question she had asked him in response caught him off guard.

Again, he sprinted toward the hoop, this time without any obstacles he needed to circumvent. His path was a clear line with a simple goal. He jumped.

“So what’s it like playing basketball as a tall, adult man? It’s the first time, isn’t it?”

He had started to shake, tears welling up, as the truthful answer to her question began to take shape in his mind.

“I… I’ve grown… so much… So why… why does the hoop feel like… it’s so much further away now?”

For a moment, he was holding onto the rim, suspended in mid-air. The ball had fallen through the hoop and he could hear it bounce on the asphalt. Then he let go, landing back on the ground. He reached for the ball before it could roll away.

“Yeah, can’t get any closer than that. Still feels distant, though…”

He mumbled to himself.

As he turned around to take a few more shots from the free-throw line, he saw two kids eyeing him with caution. A small boy holding a basketball, maybe ten years old, and a slightly taller and older girl, about twelve or thirteen, he guessed. With her light brown hair tied in a ponytail and the freckles on her face, the girl reminded him of what he imagined a young Claire might have looked like. The boy had the same freckles scattered across his face, making Eugene think that these two were likely siblings.

He moved toward them and smiled.

“You guys want to play?”

The boy looked to his sister, who stepped forward.

“Uhh… we can come back later.”

Eugene shook his head and stepped aside.

“It’s cool. I was done anyway. Have fun.”

That wasn’t true. He was waiting for Eleanor to come and play with him for a bit.

“Okay, thanks!”

Then they ran past him and started playing. Eugene went to the park bench where he and Eleanor had sat down after her apology. Here she had told him what Robertson had done. Just thinking of it made the anger rise in him again, albeit only for a second. He decided to watch the kids play until Eleanor arrived.

About five minutes later, Eleanor showed up wearing leggings instead of her usual jeans. She was ready to play. He waved her over. As she came closer, she greeted him.

“Hey. Didn’t expect to change clothes to end up being just a spectator today.”

“Well, what can you do? It’s the game of the century. You wouldn’t want to interrupt that, would you?”

“In that case, I agree. There’s just nothing we can do.”

Eleanor sat down next to him, chuckling. She continued.

“You ever thought about teaching basketball to kids? You managed to teach even me how to shoot properly. So you’ve got some talent.”

Eugene leaned back against the backrest.

“I’m not sure I’d call what you do proper shooting.”

She elbowed his side in response. It actually hurt a little.

“Okay, okay! I surrender. No, I never thought about that. A week ago, I wasn’t sure I’d ever touch a basketball again. Teaching wasn’t exactly at the forefront of my mind.”

Eleanor let her head rest against his shoulder.

“I really think you’d be good at it.”

“Maybe…”

It was true that he had never considered it before. Right now, he didn’t have the mental capacity to think this through. Starting college, supporting Eleanor, playing basketball again, and now dating Claire were more than enough to keep his mind occupied.

“I invited Claire to your fight on Saturday.”

Eleanor raised her head and looked at him, then burst into laughter.

“You did what?!”

Eugene laughed too. He knew how absurd that sounded.

“Well, she said she wanted to support you, but didn’t know if it was okay to reach out. So I thought…”

“You’d take the petite five-foot math nerd to a kickboxing gala for your first date? I can’t describe how much I love this.”

Eleanor was holding her stomach as she wiped away her tears.

“Joke’s on you. She said yes and asked me if this is serious enough for me to be transferred to another section.”

“Ooooh, the university administration is getting involved. If that isn’t true love, I don’t know what is.”

He poked her back with his elbow, although more gently than she had.

“Enough of my dating life. What about that call with your mom? How did that go? Is she coming on Saturday?”

Eleanor quickly became serious again.

“Better than expected. I never thought I’d say that, but talking to her was surprisingly pleasant. After dealing with so many journalists trying to contact me – half of them not because they’re interested in the Robertson case, but because they hope to get to my mother through me – talking to her felt almost like talking to a normal person. She’ll visit us on Saturday, and then come watch the fight.”

He nodded.

“And you’re okay with that?”

She leaned forward, her eyes following the ball as the boy’s shot missed the hoop.

“Mhm. If the argument with my mom hadn’t escalated to the point where she cut me off, I never would’ve gone to Robertson for help in the first place. I think she knows that too. The realization comes a little late for both of us, but I think it’s become clear we can’t continue as before. So if she’s trying to show an interest, like coming to my fight and things like that, then I… I don’t want to shut her out.”

He still wasn't used to seeing Eleanor like that. The Eleanor he got to know in high school and had lived with these past few months was decisive, strong, optimistic. He trusted her deeply, so much so that she was the only person he had ever told that his coach had abused him. The Eleanor sitting next to him now seemed more contemplative, more reserved in her judgment. He couldn’t quite tell whether this was a sign of growth or a lack of confidence.

“I hope things work out. I just hate seeing her hurt you over and over again. So if you need somebody to accidentally throw a basketball in her face, let me know. I can arrange that.”

Eleanor grinned, then leaned into him.

“Thank you.”

For a few minutes, they watched the kids play in silence. Neither the boy nor the girl had any idea what they were doing. Eugene’s best guess was that he was watching an older sister with zero interest in basketball trying to support her younger brother, who was more enthusiastic but equally clueless. Through that lens, the scene before him became quite heartwarming. He was wondering if he could give them some pointers. But Eleanor pulled him out of his thoughts before he could make up his mind.

“Eugene?”

He turned his head toward her. She was leaning forward and looking at her feet.

“Can I ask you something about… what your coach… did?”

Somehow this park seemed to make them feel more at ease talking about personal issues than even their home did.

“Sure.”

He had no idea what she was about to ask.

“Did you ever feel not just hurt, or sad, or angry, but… confused after it happened?”

She glanced at him. He avoided looking back at her and leaned forward too.

“Uhh, yeah, a lot, actually. I mean, I was twelve, so I had no experience at all. He… he made me come with his hand. I hadn’t started masturbating yet. So coming for the first time like that was, among other things, quite confusing.”

He sighed. Over the years, he had learned to be honest with himself about what had happened to him. But saying it out loud still made him feel the weight of it.

“And later, I had questions. It was a man who made me come, so I wondered: am I gay? And did I maybe like it? Things like that. It took me a while to understand that… that…”

His own laughter interrupted his attempt to finish the sentence.

“Sorry! … It took me a while to understand that making a boy in early puberty come isn’t exactly rocket science. No need for the hand of the hottest girl in school.”

He took Eleanor’s hand, gave it a little squeeze. She squeezed him back.

“Thanks for telling me that. Claire should consider herself lucky for not losing you to the gays.”

The two kids distracted Eleanor and Eugene for a second when they suddenly squealed and screamed in delight. After several attempts, the boy had managed to make a shot with his back to the hoop, scoring with a backward throw over his head. Eugene giggled at the sight. At this point, the kid’s blind shots had a higher success rate than his regular ones.

“You’re welcome. You don’t have to, but do you want to tell me why you asked?”

Eleanor took a deep breath.

“I… I’m still hung up on freezing like that. I know, I know. It’s not my fault, I get that. I’m not blaming myself. Just… what did I do all this training for if not to defend myself in a moment like that?”

He wished he could give her an answer that would satisfy her, but he simply didn’t know. They had both suffered abuse and he had spent far more time processing it than she had. But their situations weren’t the same. He hadn’t been an adult kickboxer who froze when a weaker man touched him, but a child assaulted by a much older, stronger man. His own experience had little overlap with hers in that regard.

“I don’t know, Eleanor. I’m not a fighter like you. I wished I had been taller and stronger. I wondered, maybe he picked me because I was the small kid on the team, the easy target, the one least likely to put up a fight. What I can tell you, though, is this.”

He looked her in the eye.

“Everybody can freeze when they are attacked, man, woman, small or tall. But when he tried it again, you knocked the bastard flat on his ass with a single punch. There’s plenty of people who can’t do that. So I don’t think all that training was for nothing.”

Eleanor seemed to contemplate what he said.

“I know, but…”

She didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t know the magic words that would convince her. Maybe the fight on Saturday would make her feel better, make her remember that she didn’t learn to fight just for self-defense.

They resumed sitting in silence. After a while, he let go of her hand and leaned back again. Looking at her, he wondered what he could say to lighten the mood. Then he remembered he had one more piece of news to share with her.

“Oh, by the way, I ran into Michael earlier. We talked briefly. He says he…”

“Watch out!”

The girl’s voice interrupted him. He turned his head back to the hoop, but found himself staring directly at the basketball rapidly approaching his face. It was too late to react. Just before the ball made contact with his nose, it came to a stop. Eleanor had caught it.

She got up and passed the ball back to the girl.

“Be careful, you two. That could’ve really hurt.”

“We’re so sorry! It was an accident! Noah, say you’re sorry too!”

“Sorry…”

Eugene stood up as well.

“Tell you what. How about we teach you how to play without taking innocent bystanders out?”

The siblings were looking at each other, unsure what to do with the offer. Eugene continued, addressing the girl.

“Come on, it’ll be fun. How about… boys vs. girls? I’m a little taller than her…”

He pointed at Eleanor.

“And you’re a little taller than him.”

He pointed at the boy.

“So I think that’s fair. And I can give you a few tips while we’re at it. Sound good?”

Eleanor gave him the side-eye, knowing full well he could play against all three of them at once and still win easily.

“Really? We saw you earlier. You’re like really good.”

The boy asked. Eugene smiled. It was sweet that even his rusty skills could still impress a small boy.

“Sure. Let me show you how to shoot first. And don’t let Eleanor scare you. She’s not as mean as she looks.”

Eleanor gave him a soft but noticeable kick in the ass. Then they played basketball with the kids.
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After the dramatic events of the previous chapter, this one here was a bit of a breather I hope.

[mcpa1597]

I still see some roadblocks down the line, but it's good to see there are some bright spots ahead.

Would be really cool to see some Eleanor/Victoria interactions in the future.

[Vela Nanashi]

It is a good sign that Claire is able to teach again. Hoping that Eugene and Claire will have a good talk after class.

Good that Eugene tried to smooth over things with Michael too, though my memory does not recall what was bad with what he said, at least it seems that Michael is not very upset with Eugene.

They are so awkward and cute, and I am swept up reading and not really having a lot to add there, all I can say I like what I am reading

That is the horrible thing, sometimes you just can't recapture that lost time of your past, it is simply lost.

I am glad to see him give the court to the kids, hopefully they can travel the happy path with no bumps.

That is a very good idea, he could be a coach who makes sure nothing bad happens to the kids he teaches.

Good that her mom and Eleanor is mending the bridge. Also Eugene ready to do violence to her mom if she misbehaves

Yeah freezing when you can obliterate someone is rough, so I get why Eleanor is hung up about that. Also yeah it might be easier to make a man cum against his will than a woman actually @ Eugene...

Love the ending when they play with the kids and teach them a thing or two Hopefully Eugene adjusts the challenge rating so its challenging but not impossible for both sides

Now I wonder if Claire, Eugene, dragon mom, and Eleanor will have dinner after the game perhaps.

[Lucius]

The chapter leaves me happy and wistful at the same time. Happy because Eugene and Claire are beginning to establish a lovely relationship while Eugene is simultaneously renewing his friendship with Eleanor, the author being extremely skilful with the dialogue all the way. How does Eugene do it all? And no, it doesn't make one want to date again, but the mathematicians' interaction is infinitely sweet.

Wistful because all of the main characters, so sweet and human, so alive, have been hurt through no faults of their own in various awful ways.

[Claire]

@mcpa1597

I still see some roadblocks down the line, but it's good to see there are some bright spots ahead.

Would be really cool to see some Eleanor/Victoria interactions in the future.

Thy will be done! Chapter 6 already set up that Victoria will come to watch the fight on Saturday.

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@Vela Nanashi

though my memory does not recall what was bad with what he said

Nothing really. When Michael left Eleanor's room, Eugene offered him Ramen, unaware of the emotional state Michel was in. Eugene then saw him leaving and later learnt what happened from Eleanor. He's just worried Michael might have taken that the wrong way. Basically, Eugene worries too much.

They are so awkward and cute, and I am swept up reading and not really having a lot to add there, all I can say I like what I am reading

Thanks! I had a lot of fun writing this. Cute romance isn't something I haven't tried my hand at before this, so I'm happy to hear that it's landing for you.

That is the horrible thing, sometimes you just can't recapture that lost time of your past, it is simply lost.

That's an idea I want to explore much more in later chapters.

Also yeah it might be easier to make a man cum against his will than a woman actually @ Eugene...

He didn't mean that as a comparison. He's just amused at what his younger self interpreted into a simple physiological reaction.

Hopefully Eugene adjusts the challenge rating so its challenging but not impossible for both sides

I think his main concern would be to let the boy win, assuming that his sister is fine with that.


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@Lucius

And I thought the chapter might be too sweet for you.


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@Labaal i've never played Deltarune and I've only played very little of Undertale, but I think I have some idea of the tone Toby Fox imbues his stories with. I think that's a comparison I'm not sure I can live up to, but I appreciate the compliment!

[Claire]

Similar to deltarune which has its horror/hurt aspects I'm very curious how you'll weave in the horror aspects into the pov of the victims Claire particularly

I think the closest thing to a straight horror story I've written is:

The Strange Case of Henry Banner and Danica Carew

But for Divergent Limit, I'm not trying to write horror in the sense that I want the reader to feel scared themselves. Take the end of chapter 5 when Claire remembers the things Mark told her. She is clearly scared, but my focus when writing that moment was more on making the reader understand why Claire is scared and less on making the reader feel scared.

[Claire]

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. Then a knock on the door.

“Can I come in?”

The voice belonged to Eugene.

“Sure!”

The door opened. Before he said anything else, Eugene noticed what she was doing.

“Two, one, three.”

He threw at her without hesitation. Eleanor turned to him, still bouncing on her left foot. Then she made Eugene 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 grabbed her ankle between his thumb and index finger, moved the naked foot in front of his eyes to the side, and placed her heel on his left shoulder instead. He shook his head in playful exasperation.

“Seriously, why are girls recently so adamant about trying to break 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 to be particularly vain, but my face isn’t that ugly, is it?”

Eleanor put 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 just need to destroy it.”

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

“If you’re ever 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 the rock-solid foundation called 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. She found herself thinking more and more often that Eugene needed to look out more for himself.

“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 and put on her hoodie. 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 click of heels followed by the duller sound of flat shoes. Her mother was coming with her assistant. 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 old coffee maker to use that 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.

“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 asking herself the same question as Eugene. 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 yet?”

“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. She saw her mother wearing a white power suit. Elijah’s slim black suit was providing 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? Two years? I think 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.

“Yeah, looks like it. I think I’m done growing now, though.”

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

“I’m sorry to disappear when you just arrived, but I’m in a bit of a hurry and I was about to leave. I’ll be at the fight later, though.”

They all turned to Eugene. Victoria reassured him:

“Don’t worry about it.”

Then Elijah offered:

“Would it help if I gave you a ride?”

“Uhh, yeah, actually it would. But I don’t want to impose.”

Elijah waved off Eugene’s concerns.

“I’m only here to drop off Victoria and say hello to Ellie anyway. I don’t mean to stay. Ellie, good luck for your fight later!”

“Thanks!”

Elijah left the apartment, almost dragging Eugene with him. Their voices could be heard for a while as they climbed down the stairs.

“So, what are we doing?”

“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 away into the distance.

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

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

“So, Eugene’s going on a date?”

“Yeah, he’s bringing his analysis TA to my fight. Can you believe it?”

Eleanor chuckled.

“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. Her mother looked at her, her expression 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.

“Please tell me you didn’t tell Elijah that Eugene and I are a thing.”

“I didn’t.”

“Then what did you tell him?”

Victoria took off the white jacket of her suit.

“Nothing in particular. Just that the boy is fiercely loyal to you. It wouldn’t hurt him to learn to hide his hostility towards people he doesn’t like a bit more, though.”

Victoria had a faint but amused smile on her lips.

“Well, Eugene has never let me down.”

Eleanor didn’t like where the conversation was going.

“Good. Loyalty like that is rare and useful, Eleanor. Make sure you keep him around.”

Eleanor stood up immediately, 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…”

Then Eleanor headed back into the kitchen.

It was always the same with her. 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 disappearing in 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. One, two, three. Tap, tap, tap. Stomach, chest, head. A deep breath, then she returned to the living room, coffee in hand.

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

She handed her mother her coffee.

“I know. I didn’t have a chance to change yet. Elijah and I came from a meeting with representative Adams. I thought about wearing my old Princeton hoodie to your fight. I haven’t worn that in forever.”

Eleanor smiled as she sat back down.

“Bold move wearing a hoodie from a rival college to a kickboxing gala.”

Victoria took an elegant sip of her coffee.

“I’m not concerned. I 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. Still staring outside the window, she finally asked something she really wanted to know.

“Mom, why did you make Elijah 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 down the coffee on the table.

“If you’re ever in a position of power, the biggest mistake you can make is to surround yourself with people just like yourself.”

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 she 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 decided to simply ask it now.

“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 regret broke through the composed facade.

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

That was an unexpected response. She had never seen Victoria doubt herself. But more than that, she didn’t want to her mother to blame herself for what Robertson had done.

“It’s not… not your fault, Mom. It’s his fault, and his fault alone.”

Here she was, telling her mother what Eugene had told 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 too. 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 was surprised why you were suddenly asking about an old classmate from high school. But what I said was the truth. 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 think he didn’t know that you’re my mother. I brought it up myself. That was when… he changed.”

She lowered her eyes.

“I didn’t connect the dots immediately. I understood the connection only 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 was never 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 and I went to Princeton. He was… friendly, shy, very intelligent, but content to coast through life on his talents.”

She made a small pause.

“I’m not aware of any inappropriate behavior from him, neither toward me nor any other girl in our vicinity at the time. I’d describe him rather as overly cautious 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 other people. 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 not nothing.”

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.

“Eleanor, what about you? 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 that you were my daughter. Going public changed that. You’re now known as the woman who went public with rape allegations against a successful and reputable professor, and you’re now known as the daughter of Victoria Gardner. I’m sure you’re aware that your fight later will be swarming with journalists trying to talk to you. 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.”

Journalists had indeed 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.

“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. And the world you’re dipping your foot into now 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. 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.”

Her mother smiled and got up.

“Well then. I need to get going. As you correctly pointed out, I should change before I come to your fight and for that I need to make a quick stop at my hotel room. I suppose 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. Eleanor followed her 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 being opened again.

“Eleanor?”

She turned around.

“Mhm?”

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, then her brain was buffering. Instinctively, she took a step back. Her father was the one who told her he loved her. Not because it came natural 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.