by Cassie James
The reaction disgusts me.
Piper wouldn’t be crying over what people were saying about her. She would let the words roll off her shoulders. I reach shaking fingers to wipe the few tears away and raise my head. My gray eyes meet hazel ones, and Jude smirks at me. My shoulders slump, but I refuse to look away from the challenge in his eyes.
I’m suddenly very aware that Macie is right—winning my friends over might not be as easy as I thought.
5
Jude
I’m leaning against the hood of my car, shooting the shit with the guys when Macie Wharton’s black BMW rolls into the parking lot. I follow the car through slitted eyes and cross my arms over my chest as she backs the car to a stop in a space a few down from where we’re gathered. The frown on my face tightens as her door opens.
I try—and fail—to keep my eyes on her curly head of brown hair. Instead, my eyes trace the length of her creamy caramel legs as she climbs out of the low-to-the-ground car. If I lean down and turn my head just the right way, I can catch a glimpse of her panties, and I do. Macie Wharton is hot, and I will never not look at her as she climbs out of her car. She knows what she’s doing, and I secretly think she wants to fuck me as much as I want to fuck her.
Her light brown eyes flash in my direction, and we share a mutual sneer. I had planned to spend the entirety of my senior year trying to get into her pants, and I was sure it would’ve been one of the best lays of my life. The quiet ones are always the best fucks, and it would piss Tori off. Added bonus, if you ask me.
Tori’s been unbearable ever since the accident—taking her place at the helm of The Roses with ease. Fucking her step-sister might be the key to getting her to buzz off, and I hate that it’s not an option anymore. My interest in showing Macie a good time in the backseat of her car went all the way down to zero the second she made friends with Silicunt.
As if on cue, Silicunt’s head pops out of the passenger side of the BMW. It’s been a little over a week since school started, and my blood still boils every time I see the shitty substitute for Piper.
Life was easier before the accident, when Piper was still around to keep Tori and Chelsey in check like the minions they truly are. Neither girl has an ounce of leadership capabilities in her body, and they spend more time trying to sleep with me, Tyler, or Brennan than they do helping us run the fucking school. Idiots, both of them. I spare a glance for the blonde girls, each with a button undone and wearing heels that definitely are not uniform approved. At least they’re hot idiots. Chelsey puffs her D-Cup tits out under my gaze, and I smirk at her. Maybe fucking her would solve the Tori problem.
“Ugh, would you look at them?” Tori groans as she pops her gum. My eyes turn back toward Macie and Silicunt, and my fists clench as I grit my teeth. They have the audacity to laugh as they pull their bags from the trunk of the car. Clearly Silicunt hasn’t caught on to the fact that we don’t want her here. “How Macie hangs out with that thing is completely beyond me. And does Silicunt think she’s going to win favor by wearing her skirts short like some kind of slut?”
“That’s not fair, Tori,” Brennan says, and my head snaps around to stare at him. He smirks in Tori’s direction. Before I can ask him what in the fuck he’s thinking, he turns his eyes on Silicunt and Macie and glares. “There’s no way Silicunt’s parents programmed her for sex. I bet she’s like a fucking Barbie down there. All plastic parts and no idea what the word slut even means.”
Tyler scoffs, and I smile with approval at Brennan’s words. The kid’s softer than the rest of us, but he never lets me down when it really counts. He’s had our backs since day one, and I’m glad to see we’re all still on the same page.
“Yeah,” Chelsey pipes up, and I concentrate on her tits straining against the buttons of her shirt so I don’t have to actually listen to whatever drivel she’s going to force us through this time around. “She probably doesn’t even know how to kiss—there’s no way the Hawthornes would want their precious Piper replacement to be anything but innocent.”
Bless the idiot, she really meant for the words to be cutting. She just doesn’t have it in her. Brennan, for some reason, seems to think it’s funny. He snaps his finger and points toward me as he laughs.
“She’s on to something,” Brennan says as he runs his hand through his mop of hair again. He watches Macie and Silicunt, who are now leaning against the trunk of Macie’s car and talking like one of them isn’t unnatural and doesn’t fucking belong. “I bet even you can’t get a kiss out of her, Jude.”
The challenge in his eyes is clear when he turns back. Tyler rolls his eyes, but even he offers me a shit-eating grin. The guys are in for a nasty surprise if they think I won’t win this bet. I’m the fucking king of this place. If I want something, I get it, and I never lose.
Macie and that thing are propped against the trunk of Macie’s car. They push off, Macie hiking her skirt a couple inches higher as Silicunt runs her fingers over hers, smoothing the wrinkles out. They head our way, both of their heads raised defiantly as we watch them. “I bet you I can. And when I do, you get to do my Calc homework for the next month.”
Brennan offers me a hand, and we shake in time for our arms to block the sidewalk as the girls approach. Silicunt stops, her head turning toward the side slightly like some kind of fucking puppy, but Macie keeps pushing. Brennan loosens his grip against the pressure, and I grasp his hand harder, raising our arms enough to brush the underside of her tits. Macie pushes our arms down, rolling her eyes as she says, “Move, dipshits!”
“Make me,” I challenge, bringing my face closer to hers. Anger sparks in her eyes, and a smug smile crosses my lips. Whatever she’s getting ready to say stalls on her lips when unexpected pressure on my wrist causes me to loosen my grip on Brennan’s hand enough for her to push through. I glare at Silicunt as she drops my wrist like it’s something dirty and pushes past our leering group.
“Hey, Silicunt!” I call after her, and satisfaction spreads through me at the sight of her shoulders stiffening at the nickname. They don’t stop, but Macie grabs the bot by her arm and seems to be pulling her along. “What you got under that skirt? The titties felt real enough, how’s that pussy feel?”
“Gross, Jude!” Tori cries, but the guys laugh at the crude words.
Satisfaction settles comfortably in my gut as Silicunt’s shoulders raise a little higher and Macie raises her hand to flip me the middle finger. As the girls push their way into the school, all I can think about it how sweet it’s going to be when Brennan’s doing my Calculus for the next month. Silicunt may not like me, but she won’t be able to resist me.
I don’t manage to get her alone until right before our Humanities class after lunch. Her watchdog wanders away, leaving me the opportunity to slide up next to where she’s propped herself against the wall just outside of the classroom. I can see her watching me from the corner of her eye, and she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and bites down on it before releasing it all in one fell swoop. She shifts slightly, just enough to create some space between our bodies, and I shift along with her. Silicunt shifts again. I follow. She turns perplexed gray-blue eyes up at me, and I smirk down at her.
“What do you want?” she asks, trying for Macie’s cool tone of indifference. The hitch in her voice belies the cool confidence she’s trying to portray, and I pivot away from the wall enough to rest with my shoulder against it rather than my back. Her head tilts back, and I stare into her eyes—trying my damndest to find signs of the cameras that are surely resting back there somewhere. Her mouth drops open as I stare, and I’m surprised by the warm puff of air that hits my throat as she breathes. Who the fuck knew robots needed to breathe? “Seriously, did you need something, Jude?”
“Yes,” I mumble, and I push myself from the wall completely. My hands come to rest on the wall next to her head, and I cage her in with my body. Her chest heaves as she presses her hands into the bricks behind her.
“Don’t look so scared, 2.0, I
just want a taste,” I say, and I don’t give her the chance to protest. Instead, I lower my head toward hers. For a split second she doesn’t react as I work my lips over hers, but then she surprises me by resting her shaking hands on my shoulders and pulling me closer rather than pushing me away.
It’s nothing compared to the surprise I feel when she opens her mouth readily for me when I run my tongue over the seam of her lips. Our tongues tangle, and I’m momentarily lost in the sensation of kissing her. Piper’s fingers travel toward the collar of my button-up before tangling around my tie. She shows her strength, yanking me closer to her and deepening our kiss.
It’s only the sound of a wolf-whistle that pulls me out of the trance she’s put me into. I push away from the wall, watching my tie slide out from her fingers. I cock my head and watch as she reaches up to touch her lips with shaking fingers.
“You taste like strawberries,” I mutter, and I have no idea where the hell the words come from. They aren’t wrong, but they don’t feel right falling from my lips. It’s different from the taste of that cheap strawberry-chapstick some girls sport. Everything about her mouth tasted like strawberries, and I hate myself for actually liking it.
How unnatural does the girl have to be? Goddamn strawberry flavored spit.
“Oh, thank you?” she answers, and I shake my head before turning away and pushing into the classroom. I shift, uncomfortably aware of my state of semi-arousal. What fucking girl says thank you when you point out that they’re a fucking freak? Not the real kind, my mind provides as the guys rush into the class, Brennan catcalling as he slides into the seat next to me.
“Dude, what was it like?” he asks as he slaps hands with Tyler over my desk. I lean back into the seat, smirking as she stumbles into the room, a slightly dazed look on her face. Macie is whispering something in her ear while glaring at me. Good, ticking off two bitches with one action was my equivalent of killing two birds with one stone.
“Fucking weird,” I say as Dr. Charles shuffles his old ass into the classroom. He plants himself at his desk, his ancient frame drooping with the action, and for a short second, I think he might have actually died. I see him reach for a remote control, and I turn back to the guys as he struggles to work the high-def TV at the front of the room. “Piper 2.0 definitely isn’t a real girl.”
“2.0,” Brennan echoes with a loud laugh.
Heads turn our way from all over the room, earning the new nickname a few more laughs. Macie glares again but I only wiggle my fingers at her and 2.0 until they both turn back around and mind their own damn business.
Satisfaction settles in me as I lean back in my seat, ignoring whatever Dr. Charles thinks he’s going to teach us today. I knew, robot or not, 2.0 wouldn’t be able to resist me. It’s just too bad I still can’t get the taste of strawberry out of my fucking mouth.
6
Piper
I stare out the window, my eyes wide, as houses flash by on one side and the ocean sparkles in the mid-morning sun on the other. The houses are all impressive—each one larger than the one before it. West Ex houses can’t even begin to compare to the houses in Malibu, and I wonder about Stanley Hyde the further we drive down the Pacific Coast Highway.
I pass a quick glance in Mom’s direction, but she seems to be in her own world as she drives. I take the opportunity of her distraction to tap into my search engine—it makes her uncomfortable when she can tell I’m searching something—and I run a quick search on Stan.
Nothing that appears surprises me based on what I already know about the man. He graduated from MIT with a doctorate in mechanical engineering in the late 1980s before returning for a program in biotechnological engineering in the early 1990s. Stan moved to the west coast with the tech boom, heading Research & Development for a few companies before founding his own company, Hyde Biotech Industries, in the early 2000s. Only recently, he stepped down as the CEO of his company to lead the R&D department, a more familiar territory for him. There’s a surprising lack of documentation on his work in artificial intelligence.
“Mom, how do you and Dad know Stan?” I ask, and her head tilts to the side as she hums in the back of her throat, clearly lost in her own thoughts. She doesn’t answer right away, so I try again, “When did you meet Stan?”
“I sold him the Malibu mansion a few years ago,” she finally answers.
“And how did… I come up?” I ask, choosing my words carefully. She reaches a perfectly manicured hand over to rest it over my own tense hand.
“Stanley Hyde is an interesting man.” The car slows as Mom rolls her window down to enter the gate code. The gates swing inward, and Mom urges her car up the incline of the driveway. I crane my head to see the ocean in the distance. What I wouldn’t give to stick my feet in the water—I love the water, and I still haven’t made it to the ocean since I’ve been back. Mom continues. “Your father and I don’t always stay in contact with our clients, but Stan was different. He fascinated both of us, and the stories he used to tell about losing his wife and daughter in an accident—that stuck with us, I guess? He was lonely, and they were his inspiration. We knew he was close to a working prototype around the time of the...”
She trails off, and tears swim in her eyes. I feel like an asshole, so as soon as the car’s parked, I lean over the center console and wrap her in a hug. “I’m sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean to make you think about it,” I mutter into her neck, and I hear her sniffle once before she wraps her arms around me in a quick hug.
She pulls away. “I have you back, and that’s all that matters. I’ll never be able to thank Stan enough for letting us be the first to…” She trails off. She doesn’t want to say it out loud, to acknowledge what I really am. I get it.
Stan chooses that moment to come around the corner of the house, gardening tools hanging from his dirty hands. You wouldn’t know by looking at him now that he’s the biotech genius owner of the multi-million dollar Malibu mansion in front of us. He looks more like someone’s crazy uncle.
“You’re right on time,” he calls out to us. “Come on in.”
Stan ushers us into the house, chatting amicably with Mom along the way. I study the architecture of his home, all the clean lines and glass, modern and a little cold. I’m a little sad for Stan that he lives in this big house all alone.
He begs off to get cleaned up while Mom fills out some paperwork, and I take the opportunity to wander towards the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the back of the house. The doors lead to a patio with a sparkling pool, but it’s the ocean in the distance that pulls my eye beyond his property line. I’m not sure how long I stand there staring before Stan reappears in a fresh outfit.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Stan leads Mom and I down a hallway and into a room that’s set up like a mix between a hospital room and a lab. There’s a bed in the center of the room, made neatly with crisp white sheets and a thin waffle-weave blanket. It looks scratchy—and cheap.
Mom stands off to the side, her hands grasping the back of a nearby chair in a white-knuckled grip. She looks nervous to be here, and I try not to let those nerves affect me. It’s just a routine check-up, after all. Stan told us he would need to do them every month or so. I smile at her, an attempt to reassure her that everything will be okay, and she presses her lips into an even thinner line.
Stan directs me to the bed. “You might want to lie down, Piper. I’m going to be accessing your central files and processor remotely, and I’m not entirely sure how that might affect your body functions. Better to be safe than sorry, yeah?”
“It’s not going to mess anything up, is it?” Mom speaks up. We both turn to look at her as her eyebrows furrow into a worried look. “Because we’ve come a long way in the past month, and I’d rather we not lose all that progress.” She’s right. We have come an awful long way, and I certainly wouldn’t want to start it all over again. No wonder Mom’s so nervous.
“That’s not a concern,” Stan reassures her. “I have several fail sa
fes in place to ensure Piper isn’t wiped accidentally. The only way we would have to start over completely with her is if we intended to do so.”
Mom nods, comforted by his words. She’s already lost one daughter. She might not survive losing Piper a second time. I’m not so comforted. I guess I should have realized there would be an option to wipe me if they wanted to. I’m a prototype, with the potential for something to go wrong at any time, but that understanding doesn’t make my hands shake any less.
I’m more than just technology, though, aren’t I? As if answering my silent query, Stan says, “Piper, you seem far more sentient than you were the last time I saw you.”
“Haven’t I always been sentient?”
“I suppose sentience isn’t exactly the scale I should be measuring you upon.” He thinks for a moment before offering a different explanation of what he means. “You seem to have a better grasp on your humanity. You’re becoming more human.”
Mom gasps from behind him, a pleased sound. This is news she’s happy to hear. The more human I become, the closer I am to being her Piper.
I stare silently at the ceiling. I don’t know what to say. I was designed to be as humanlike as possible—I’m meant to be a better human, that fact is stated plainly in my file. Why would it surprise or please him that I’m becoming more human? That’s what I’m supposed to do.
I can hear computer keys clacking as Stan accesses my processors and servers. He’s humming in the back of his throat, a sound I find surprisingly comforting. I close my eyes and wait, not entirely sure what he’s looking for. More proof of my humanity, I think with a scathing bite to my internal voice, and I’m surprised when Stan chuckles. My eyes pop open, and I jerk my head around to face him. The humor on his face quickly disappears, his features darkening as he scrolls through whatever log he’s perusing.