by Snow, Sheena
I strolled over to my desk, facing the window where his tank sat. His beautiful scales shifted from turquoise to a deep blue depending on where the sunlight caught them, giving them the appearance of the Caribbean Ocean.
The few flakes I dropped into the tank danced around the surface until Caribbean came up to eat them. It was almost therapeutic watching him swim around his tank. He was the closest thing I was ever going to have as a pet. Mom would never allow animals. Ever.
I should have anticipated that.
I walked back over to my soft blue comfy sofa, where my book bag was parked. I grabbed a couple of books, stuffed them into my bag, and headed out.
I jerked my jacket off the chair and closed the door to my room. As I was walking, I slinked into my jacket while trying to juggle my bag. My bag slid down my shoulder, my jacket fell off one arm, my papers slipped through my fingers, and then—bam—I plowed into the back of a man!
My papers rained down around us, clouding his outline from my view. I pounced, throwing my fist into the air as he turned, aiming straight for his face.
He wasn’t going to walk out of here in one piece, not if I could help it.
Chapter 2
And he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to walk out of this place at all. Because I was screwed.
I was so screwed.
I was going to be in so much trouble.
I’d hit the robot. That was now residing in our house.
Mom was going to kill me.
I shook out my wrist as it started throbbing and turning an awkward shade of blue.
“Sorry. I hope . . . I hope I didn’t . . .”
It stared back at me. How much were they able to understand?
“H-Hurt you?” I finally said.
Its nose wasn’t bleeding. Was it? Did robots even bleed? This was such a disaster.
“Let me see your face. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot that you were here. It’s only been a day since we got you, er, had you, er, since you’ve been here.” I was making such a mess of things. “Let me see. Turn your face to the side.”
There seemed to be no permanent damage, or rather metal remolding. My wrist, however, was another story. Flesh and bone clashing with metal was not the best idea.
I think it’s starting to swell.
I looked up to find the robot watching me.
“You seem fine. If you’re feeling odd, just tell me.” My eyes widened. Did I just say that? “Er, cook soup tonight and then I’ll know you need to go to the, umm, robot shop, is it?”
So uncomfortable.
The robot picked up my papers, put them on the table, opened the freezer and grabbed a couple ice cubes. He put the ice in a bag and laid it on my wrist.
Wow. How did it know to do that?
“Thank you.”
I gave Robotatouille a weak nod and what I hoped formed a smile. My hand still hurt but at least the swelling was going down.
It was awkward standing there staring at each other, so I did the only sensible thing I could think of, I grabbed my stuff and I left. After collecting my purse and locking the front door, I headed toward my car while rubbing my wrist. The color was starting to return to normal.
Would Robotatouille be so lucky?
I pulled my jacket closer as I walked down the driveway and then, I felt it. I felt them on me. Eyes. I felt a burn running down my back, following the flick of my hand, the tap of my foot, and the swoosh of my hair.
I stopped in front of my car door. This was officially the day from hell. Not one thing was going well. Not one thing was going right for me.
I leaned my head on the car door. I just wanted everything to be normal again, to go back the way it used to be. I didn’t want to be afraid of walking into my house. I didn’t want to have to deal with a robot, living in my kitchen, right next to my room. Or some creepy guy staring at me from somewhere in the bushes.
I didn’t.
“Make it stop,” I whispered to my car. “Make it all go away.”
The sensation grew stronger, leaving waves of heat flaming down my back. That person watching me was so going to pay.
They hit the wrong time, the wrong place, and the wrong person.
“Well there’s one thing I can make go away.” I threw my stuff into my car and slammed the door shut. “You are messing with one pissed-off girl.”
I spun around. My shoulders tensed, my jaw locked, and my hands fisted. My gaze traveled until I found the eyes stalking me, coming from a car sitting behind our driveway and my mouth . . . my mouth dropped.
Open.
Even through the windshield, his were the greenest eyes I had ever seen—the color not even the forest could mimic, not even the oceanic tidal pools could come close to competing with—turbulent green eyes, framed with dark eyelashes and softly arched eyebrows. A strand of disheveled midnight hair hung below his tanned forehead. His full lips matched his hard chin and . . . I squinted. What was that? A scar? A thin white line started above his jaw, slid along the side of his face, down his neck, and disappeared under the collar of his shirt.
A car honked in the distance, shattering my connection, and I jumped. I clutched at my beating heart.
I rolled my eyes, but when I looked back, Green Eyes was gone. The car sitting under our maple tree was empty. I searched the street for him but he was nowhere to be seen. It was almost as if he had never been there in the first place.
I glared at the empty car and got into my own white Audi A4. I put my key in the ignition and my car roared to life. This day kept getting weirder.
The smell of books teased my senses as I walked through the doors of the library. I took a deep breath, savoring the aroma. The new books, with pristinely white pages, barely broken in, filled the air with a mint, crisp smell that mingled with the musty scent of the older books.
Pages turned, and things moved in slow motion, but it was the barely audible conversations I loved the most. I listened and was surprised to pick out my friend’s voices.
They were earlier than me, hunched over and whispering to each other. I groaned. Not good. Their three heads were bobbing up and down, scheming, until they saw me, and then said, “Hi.”
In unison.
What they didn’t realize was that I could see them kicking each other under the table.
Carmen was a fiery redhead from Florida. Her hair cascaded down her back, smooth and free-flowing. She was always into the latest trends and you could tell when Carmen was approaching by the clank of her heels.
Then there was Jayla, with her majestic blue eyes. No matter what she did, or wore, it only enhanced them. It didn’t help that her brown hair fell in soft curls around her face. Originally from California, she had tie-dye shoes and a braided ribbon tied around her forehead. We had that in common, both of us being children who’d turned out different than what their parents expected.
“What are you doing here already?” Sydney pushed her bangs out of her eyes.
“I needed to get out of the house.”
“What happened to your arm?” Jayla extended my wrist toward her.
Carmen frowned. “Did you hit it on something?”
“It’ll be fine.” I slipped my arm back. “My mom had a surprise when I walked in the house.”
“What was it this time?” Jayla asked.
“A robot.”
“A robot,” Carmen breathed.
“She did?” Sydney clapped her hands together.
“Lucky you. What kind?” Carmen asked.
I can’t believe they are excited about this.
“Some type of chef one.”
“I cannot believe you aren’t jumping up and down right now.” Sydney stared at me. “You won’t have to eat your mom’s food anymore
. How lucky are you?”
Neither of our moms could cook.
“Is it a guy or a girl?” Carmen asked.
“Guy.”
“Double lucky,” Carmen said, dreamily. “My aunt bought some old lady one.”
Jayla was looking between me and my sprained hand.
Oh no. Jayla please don’t—
“You hit him. Didn’t you?” Jayla glowered.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, when they all narrowed their eyes at me. “It was a mistake. I forgot it was there. Mom did just buy it and, believe me”—I put my hands on my hips—“it hurt me more than it hurt it.”
“Oh boy.” Sydney rested her face in her hands. “Your mom’s going to be pissed.”
“I know.” Mom would find out, and when she did there would be trouble.
“Well that’s a story you don’t hear every day, or ever, really,” Carmen said.
“Are you okay?” Jayla lifted my wrist again for a closer inspection.
“I think it’s just a sprain.” I rubbed my knuckles. “I just need more time to get adjusted to things.”
“Right.” Carmen rolled her eyes. “Because that anti-robot demonstration you were in last week really brings that point home.”
I narrowed my eyes.
After robots became available for purchase, I joined a protest group rallying outside of the Liberty Bell to enlighten people about the detriments of robots in society. It was actually kind of nice to meet the ten people in Pennsylvania who felt the same way I did.
“It’s my civil right. Besides, there weren’t enough people there to require the presence of cops anyway.”
Sydney made a face. “The news was there, recording the whole thing, even if the cops weren’t.”
“Robots aren’t all that bad. Once you get used to him, you’ll wonder how you ever lived without him for so long.” Jayla patted my shoulder.
“Maybe.” I frowned and looked down at my knuckles.
Or maybe it’s all some type of cover-up.
“Anyways, sit down,” Sydney said. “Take a load off. Lighten your feet.” She slid out a chair for me.
“We wanted to ask you, what are you doing Wednesday evening?”
They leaned forward.
“Um, well, let me see.” I searched for an excuse. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I get home, look at my calendar.”
“Well.” Sydney smiled. “I already called your mom. She checked your calendar and said you were free.”
“Oh?” Thanks, Mom. “Well, yes, I guess I am free then.”
“Great!” Carmen said.
“You’re going to love it!” Jayla joined in.
“I’m going to love what?”
“Jayla met this guy, in her European History class, and we decided to arrange for you guys to go on a blind date!” Sydney’s eyes were glowing.
“He’s got really big shoulders!” Carmen said.
“And dreamy eyes . . .” Sydney melted with her.
“What?” This couldn’t be right.
“He said he’ll pick you up Wednesday, at your house, around five for dinner and a movie,” Jayla said.
They had to be kidding.
I opened my books. “I thought we were supposed to be studying.”
Sydney stared at me.
“No. I’m not going. Tell him I got sick or something.”
“We already told him you would love to go,” Carmen said, with an edge to her voice.
“You what?”
“When was the last time you went out on a date?” Jayla asked.
“And you’ve never had a serious boyfriend,” Carmen chimed in.
Thanks, but this is not what I came here for.
“I’ve been on dates. They all end the same. What makes you think this guy’s going to be any different?”
“Give him a chance,” Sydney said. “If it really makes you that uncomfortable, you can go on a double date with Bobby and me.”
Even more awkward. A date with lovebirds.
“Vienna, you deserve a guy who’s just as great as you. Give him a chance,” Jayla said.
“Please, it could be really fun,” Carmen added.
They wanted to see me happy. I sighed. How could I stay mad?
“It’s okay. I’ll go. If I don’t like him, though, none of this blind date stuff again, okay?”
“That’s fine!” Carmen beamed.
“His name is Chandler. He’s tall, cute, and, well, I’ll save the rest for your eyes!” Jayla winked.
Can’t wait.
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
“That’s fine with us.” Carmen smiled.
“I have to be home at six so let’s start studying. I have enough reading to do for the next two weeks.” I flipped a page and tried to concentrate.
Surprisingly, the house smelled amazing when I walked in. The aroma of cheese, vegetables, and butter wafted through the front door. Music greeted me. Jack Savoretti’s, “No One’s Aware,” floated out of Mom’s studio.
“I’m home.”
Dad was watching TV, legs up, on the couch. Dad had red hair with a brown tint to it, which gave him an odd look when mixed with his gray eyes.
The local news reporter was on TV. “Taxes will not be lowered.” She smiled. Her almost-pink hair nearly blinded me. “After President Mezzerette’s moving speech, Congress voted, with an unprecedented three-fourths of the house in agreement, to keep taxes raised. Take a look.”
The screen flashed, and there was President Mezzerette at the podium. Her brown eyes beamed as she took in the senators. “The need for the military is indisputable. It would be irresponsible, and, I dare say, suicidal to leave the American public unprotected.” Her eyes glowed from the screen. “The Asian-American War five years ago decimated half our military, and the government has been fighting ardently and tirelessly to make a comeback. And, ladies and gentlemen, we have found a way. We have found an answer. Ladies and gentlemen”—she beamed a beautiful smile—“I am proud to bring you the wave of the future. A new dawn. A new coming of age. No longer will you have to sacrifice your children, no longer will you have to pray endlessly for their return. For now, with the establishment of robots, we will never have to send our children off to war again. We can keep our loved ones close. Our fathers. Our mothers. Our sons. Our daughters. Our sisters. Our brothers.” The congressmen cheered in the background. “To fill new and better jobs. For with robots at the front lines, we can move forward. We can move forward into a new and better era.”
The screen flashed back toward the reporter with the almost-pink hair. “And there you have it, the hopeful installment of robots in the military. More breaking news today. Chris Denzel from Arizona is missing.” His picture flashed on the screen. “If you have seen him or heard anything about his disappearance, please contact the police immediately.”
Dad clicked off the TV. “How was studying?”
I had to crank my neck all the way back to look at him.
“It’s studying.” I shrugged. I gestured to the TV. “Another missing person?”
Dad sighed. “I don’t know why I bother watching anymore. The news is rarely good news.”
I nodded. “This brings the number of missing to twenty-something now. Right?”
“That we know about.”
I put my bag on the sectional. “Mom painting?”
“Yup. I actually got a peek this time. Something involving the beach.”
“Wow. Surprised she let you see it.”
“She didn’t. She left the door open.”
“Ah.” I nodded. “Don’t tell her you saw anything.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Dad’s stomach rumbled. “Read
y to eat? I’m starving.”
I followed him to the kitchen.
At least if we’re poisoned by Robotatouille, we would die together.
The music went off in the studio. Mom would be joining us soon, the sooner to tell her about my escapade with Robotatouille. I sighed. I wish we were eating with Aunt Becky and Sydney today.
Once a month we would have dinner with Aunt Becky, Uncle Leroy, Sydney, and her ten-year-old brother, Joel. We would eat with Dad’s family, only his mom lived in South Carolina, in an assisted living facility. My grandfather left one seemingly random day and my grandmother was never the same. I was four at the time but I’ll always remember his eyes. My grandfather had eyes as turquoise as the sea. Too bad I take after Mom’s side of the family.
Both of Mom’s parents died before I was born. My grandmother died in the house Mom grew up in. The gas water heater caught on fire and she died of smoke inhalation. My grandpa died three months later of a broken heart. After that, Mom and Aunt Becky never liked fire, never could be next to one, light one, or have birthday candles.
Mom had two sisters, Aunt Becky and Aunt Tamera. Aunt Tamera was the oldest, Mom was the middle, and Aunt Becky was the baby. No one spoke much about Aunt Tamera. She was estranged from the family.
On my way to the kitchen, I walked past Mom’s photo of them on the mantel. The three sisters posed together, curtsying in matching dresses. They could have been mini clones of each other. Blond hair swirled around their faces and each of their pale, piercing, green eyes held the viewer captive. Honestly, it was a shame. I wanted to know Aunt Tamera. I had so little family as it was. I wanted to know if she had the art gene. I wanted to know if she was anything like me.