by A. Yber
Turning quickly, I shut the door. But X was too fast. He had shoved himself into the crack, his arm already inside. All the way to the elbow. With his foot jamming it open.
He was halfway through…
I can’t close the door!
“I’m coming in, Melanie. Tonight, is the night. No more leading me on.”
X pushed, and I stumbled, as the door slammed open.
He closed in on me, until I came up against something hard.
The back of the couch.
He was so close I could smell his breath.
Stale and metallic.
I’m trapped!
I leaned back, elbows on the edge of the sofa. Anything to create more distance between us.
X reached for me…and then…
…he was levitating?
Feet dangling in the air.
I watched as he flew across the room, his body smashing into a wall.
Oh wow…what just happened?
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
X crumpled on the floor. And Zach’s face, savage with anger.
He bent down, grabbing the front of X’s shirt, and lifted him off the floor.
His words clipped, as he spat into X’s face.
“It’s time for you to leave.”
Wait. Zach? What…?
My head was spinning. Horror and relief pouring over me, simultaneously.
Exetor’s face registered surprise, that a robot would challenge him. Which was quickly replaced by murderous resignation.
He gave me an accusing glare, as if I had been the one to throw him.
“What the hell, Melanie?” he demanded.
Zach suddenly released his grip on X, letting him drop.
He knees buckled, as his feet hit the solid floor.
He didn’t say another word. Didn’t look at either Zach, or myself. Just walked out the front door, slamming it behind him.
I realized I had been holding my breath. It came out in a rush, as I gasped for more air.
I turned to Zach, to ask what had just happened…but there was something wrong…something was off. And then I knew what it was.
His eyes weren’t glowing.
Chapter Two
The magnetic whirring of X’s AV, screamed in protest. He was forcing the gears too hard. I ran to the window, just as he gunned it, and tore down the street. Definitely going outside the speed zone, and sure to get a ticket.
Zach stood behind me. Leaning on a mop.
“Zach, what just happened?” I asked, my voice calm, my emotions otherwise.
Questions zinged through my mind, like a mixer set to high speed. What is wrong with Zach’s eyes? Is he malfunctioning? Why did he intervene with X?
I swore I saw guilt on Zach’s face, for a split second, before it turned to stone.
No response.
He resumed mopping the kitchen floor. The image of him - as a housekeeper - ridiculous. He looked like he belonged in a gym. Which wasn’t the issue. What worried me, was that he was completely avoiding my question. Which was way outside of protocol. And acting like it was no big deal, that he had just kicked X’s ass.
I jumped, as the front door busted open.
“What is going on?” Nora demanded, her dark eyes flashing with concern.
She threw her sparkly handbag onto the entrance table.
Nora, short for Eleanora – a name she hated - didn’t do sparkly bling, being more of a tomboy. But prom was a special occasion, so she had made an exception.
I loved my sister, but we were opposites, in looks and temperament. She had short dark spiky hair, dark eyes, and a perpetual tan that she got from Dad’s side.
Her best friend, and platonic prom date, Ned - known at school as “Nerd”- walked through the door, behind her. His black hair combed into a fashionable style, for once. His tux making him look older and more distinguished.
Distinguished? Who knew?
“What do you mean?” I averted my eyes.
“Well, let’s see,” she began, listing off items in order, on her fingers, “A -You look upset…B…”
Ned interrupted, “Ya, you look like you did a cheer jump at the big game, and realized you had no panties on. Not that I have a hyperconsciousness about that, or anything.”
Ned caught Nora’s death look, along with a painful elbow jab to the ribs.
“Er…never mind.”
“Eeww! Inappropriate! Keep it to yourself, jerk-off.”
And, as if on cue, Ned and Nora started to argue.
“…and what the heck does hyperconsciousness even mean, anyway?”
I listened to them carry on, staying silent. I was used to Ned’s unwanted comments, so I ignored him. He had been crushing on me for years, and had never made it a secret.
With a final glare at Ned, Nora turned back to me. “Anyway, as I was saying, Mel…you look upset. Basically, you look like hell. Even your hair looks bad! That’s ‘A’. ‘B’ is - you left the dance way early, and ‘C’ - X just about ran us off the road. Did you guys have a fight?”
The night was turning into one giant cluster. I decided lying was my best option.
“Not really. Everything is fine. I was just having a bad moment at the dance. X is mad, because I made him take me home early.”
“So, you’re missing prom, because you had a bad moment?”
“It was just…you know…one of my episodes. I’m fine. Go back to the dance, and don’t worry about me!”
“But I am worried about you. You have been talking about prom for months.”
“Nora, I’m good.”
We stared at each other, until she finally gave in.
“Okay, ‘scrip’ me, if you need me,” she said, heading for the door.
“Scripting” - a term for hologramming - was a cool upgrade to video time, that enabled you to see a mini 3D of the person you were talking to. Just by pressing a button on your S-Pod - short for Super Pods. A micro super-computer, worn on your wrist.
I smiled, watching them through the window, arguing all the way to Ned’s AV.
They pulled out, and my thoughts returned to X.
Eight months ago, he had been the hot new guy at school, with eyes only for me. X had even been romantic at first, until he started pressuring me to give up my v-card. I didn’t know if I had ever intended to give it away to him. Even “after I turned eighteen”. It felt like sharing that part of me, was just too intimate. X was everything a girl could want, but something didn’t feel right! Then everything had blown up, when his “crazy” had decided to show itself, tonight. My intuition was proving correct, after all.
And the funny thing about it, was that I was secretly already eighteen, going on nineteen! Nora had turned eighteen, last month. Basically, we lied about our ages, afraid people would think we had flunked, or something. Our parents had simply decided to hold us back a year. So, I was already old enough to legally have sex with X, but that didn’t mean I was obligated to do it! And now, probably never.
I went in search of Zach. I needed answers.
He was still in the kitchen, and I cautiously approached, unable to sense his mood. Suddenly aware that Cy-Bots apparently had moods.
It was difficult for me to talk to him, under normal circumstances, much less when I was hyped up and stressed. Even looking at him was painful, sometimes…like now…he was that appealing to the eyes. I had found myself staring at him - okay, I’ll admit to it - a lot, over the years. Like an in-home stalker. Not that he noticed, or that my fantasy could ever go anywhere. But a girl could dream. Problem was, I was constantly dreaming about Zach. Especially now, sparked by X’s new asshole attitude.
“Zach.”
I waited, but he didn’t acknowledge me. And then, a terrible thought hit me, “Will the government somehow find out Zach’s malfunctions tonight, and take him away?”
I could lose him.
“Zach, answer me. What just happened…and why don’t your eyes glow?”
&
nbsp; “It’s nothing, Melanie. I downloaded some vision upgrades, to look more human, and thereby make you more comfortable with my presence. Nothing to worry about.”
I’d never heard of such a thing.
“And that’s it?”
“That’s it. Nothing to worry about.”
His short answer was followed by more furious mopping. It was a ridiculous, hotness overload visual. His arm muscles flexed, each time he dipped into the bucket of water. If he were on a TV commercial right now, he could sell the heck out of some floor cleaner.
“Well, there are things to worry about! Like the fact that you didn’t answer the other part of my question – why you threw X into a wall?”
I waited, still hoping for some response. Any response.
Nothing.
I realized he wasn’t going to give up any more information. So weird. I decided to let it alone, for now. I’d try again, later.
And then another realization hit me, like a kick in the gut.
Will X tell anyone?
Chapter Three
There was a man in the fire, but I couldn’t see him clearly, through the smoke. I stood paralyzed with fear, unable to reach him. It was too late. Flames washed over me. Large chunks of my hair, now coming out in my hands. And then, I smelled it. The crackling and burning…Oh God, my skin was melting off my body...
I woke up in a cold sweat.
The Dream.
Again.
Gasping for breath, my hands clenched the sheets in a death grip. I didn’t know what the dream meant, but it kept recurring. And as of late, more frequently. This time it had felt so real, I was sure I had charred blistering burns all over my body. And my hair.
My hair.
I tore off the covers, and ran to my bedroom mirror. Terror coursing through my veins.
It was still there!
All of it.
My skin.
Hair.
I patted my head, just to make sure. My long hair was still intact.
Undamaged.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
It was just a dumb dream. My skin and hair are fine.
“Everything is going to be okay,” I told myself. It was a mantra I repeated, daily.
Picking up a brush, I carefully stroked my locks, weaving the pieces into a perfect ponytail. Not a hair out of place.
It could never be long enough, to suit me. Sometimes I even talked to it.
But I could relax, now that it was how I wanted it, so I finished getting ready for work. Memories of the dream, already fading from my mind.
“Mel, what were you thinking, signing up for the 5a.m. breakfast shift, the morning after prom?”
Ayla was a sophomore at my high school, 1-9-7328, formerly known as Liberty High. In 2040, the NWO (New World Order Government) had renamed most of the schools, to number systems.
Ayla had long brown hair, that was naturally curly, and an attractive open face. She waited tables with me at the Rise and Shine Diner, in Coordinate 35-82 – the latitude and longitude location of what used to be a town called Asheville, North Carolina.
Rise and Shine! The only thing shining today, were the dollar signs in Carl’s eyes.
Carl was the large hairy-armed owner of the diner, and he was all about the money.
“Minimize the chit-chat today, ladies. You’ve got work to do!”
He walked past us in a greasy white t-shirt, with stains on the front. Curly black chest hairs creeping over the edge of its V-neck collar, like spiders’ legs.
“Yes, Carl. Good morning to you, too!”
I was definitely not in the mood for Carl’s b.s. My daily headaches were back, and I hadn’t slept well. Spending half of the night awake, staring at the ceiling, and replaying the scene between Zach and X. And the other half, having that stupid dream.
But Ayla, always managed to lift my mood. She was a trustworthy friend, and true friends were in short supply, these days.
Ignoring Carl, I answered her earlier question about working this morning, “I need the money, as my mom didn’t make enough this month. And everyone asked off, so the restaurant needs this shift covered. Plus me working early, means Nora can sleep in, and take the lunch shift.”
Ayla knew that Nora and I had picked up a lot of extra hours lately, in order to pay for our prom dresses. She never made us feel bad, for being poor. Heck, she was just as poor!
We set up the diner, and waited for the Sunday morning regulars. They always arrived at opening, like clockwork. We killed time, rolling silverware into white paper napkins.
My head was still pounding, but Ayla wanted to talk.
“So, tell me all about it! Was prom amazing? I want to hear everything. Did you take pics?” She fired the questions, one after another.
“It was okay,” I mumbled.
“Okay? Just okay? I heard there was major drama! Cami and Rhys broke up!”
Cami, or Camille Spencer was the captain of the cheerleading squad and self-designated Prom Queen…voted in by intimidation. She was the last person I wanted to think about, right now.
Ayla continued, “I heard Rhys found her hanging all over some other guy. Anyway, the two guys got into an all-out brawl, or something. Like, who would fight over her? It would make me so happy, if Rhys dumped that ho.”
The front door jingled, and our customers came in. There was also a group of about eight people…
…OMG.
“Well, speak of the…” Ayla’s voice trailed off.
Camille Spencer walked in, on X’s arm. Minus her boyfriend, Rhys Wallace.
Why is she with X?
She was followed in, by three of my other cheerleader friends, with their jock boyfriends in tow.
Justeen with McLean, Karla with Asher, and Pam with Hunter. All of us had been in “Queen Cami’s” prom court, last night.
They had been out all night, partying, apparently. And the original group plan, for morning after prom, had been for all of us to go to breakfast together. Minus me, of course. Since I had to work early. But Rise and Shine Diner had not been part of the plan. In fact, it would never be on their agenda. Too low end for this group. And a couple of the girls were on perpetual diets. They would never eat this food. But I guess being drunk doesn’t make you very picky.
But why here?
Cami’s screechy voice, aggravated my already pounding migraine, “Hey, Melanie! We decided to come see how great you look in your apron!”
This was followed by laughter, mostly from her, and the other girls. My so-called “friends”. Each attractive, in their own way, and popular. This was the chick clique I was “required” to hang out with, since joining the cheerleading squad. I was trapped in it. I didn’t really like any of them, except Karla, whom I had known since first grade. But even she followed orders from Cami. What Cami says, goes.
Karla looked embarrassed for me, and chimed in, “Mel, I think you look nice.”
She received a warning glare from Cami, and didn’t say anything more.
I would be willing to bet my life, that it was Cami’s idea, they come to the diner. Anything to embarrass me - and as it’s looking - parade around in front of me, on X’s arm. I guess we all know who the “other guy” was, that caused the fight last night. Ass-hat X.
Soon to be “ex”!
I was so different from them, living in a shabby house on the middle-class end of town. They all came from wealthy families, lived in mini-mansions, and didn’t have to think about whether there was money for groceries.
My house didn’t seem to bother Karla, though. She used to hang out, a lot, and even spent the night a few times. We would stay up half the night, playing “Who Will You Marry?’ a silly card game, and talking about boys. But that was middle school.
I never invited any of them over, now…probably a good thing. I could just imagine Cami turning up her nose. Offended that she was being subjected to surroundings, so beneath her social status. Besides, if she ever clapped eyes on Zach…I
could already hear her complaining about how she deserved someone like him. Instead of her own “sixty-something grandma” model - who made the most amazing homemade shortbread, by the way. She would probably demand that I trade with her, like that was even allowed. You got what you got. Anyway, I didn’t want her anywhere near Zach.