iRobotronic

by Bella Street

“No, it's just that obvious. So no more talk about being a wimp. You do your part and I'll do mine—being tough and manly to protect you.”

  At his wry tone, Seffy peeked at Trent from under her lashes. “I am very thankful you've been helping me.”

  He sent her a heavy-lidded smile.

  “Still, it makes me feel weak. I need to figure out how to be strong.”

  “I never said you weren't strong.” Trent put down his hot dog and lifted his shirt. “Check it. You left a mark when you punched me in the gut this morning.”

  She peered at his toned tummy and indeed saw a red round mark. The beginnings of a smile fluttered at the edges of her lips.

  “God, I told you L.A. was a cesspool. C'mon Leslie, let's get away from these pervs.”

  Seffy looked up and saw an outraged mother staring daggers at her, yanking her tweener daughter away.

  Trent put down his shirt as she leaned back. “That was awkward.” He picked up his hot dog and resumed eating.

  Seffy gave a half laugh. “She acted like she actually caught us doing something.” A weight of resignation settled upon her. Once he'd wanted a kiss for rescuing her. Maybe she should give up the rest. Would that even out the karmic scale some? “You know, maybe we should just go for it—get it out of the way, you know?”

  He choked a little on a bite of his dog. “What does that mean?”

  “Exactly what you think.” She felt old beyond her years. “We go find some dark little place out of the way and get it on at Universal Studios.”

  Trent stared at her, then took a long pull from his soda cup.

  She continued. “I've heard of people who have little trysts in public places. They check 'em off a list...Universal Studios, Disneyland, Disneyworld, Six Flags...”

  “Some friends.”

  “They're not friends. I've just heard people talking about it.”

  “I wonder why they pick family friendly places.”

  “Probably the irony, as you would say.”

  “There's ironic and then there's sick.”

  Seffy struggled to her feet and held out a limp hand. “So what do you say? I'm just a piece of meat and going to die soon anyway. You've been after me for it. It's yours for the taking. And this way I can let you know how much I appreciate your, uh, support.”

  “Sit down!” he said, his face darkening. “I think you've had enough 'taking' in your life as it is.”

  Seffy sank back onto the curb, his words dissolving her false chutzpah. She looked away, fighting back tears. After a moment of hard-won emotional control, she picked up her hot dog with shaking hands and finished it, along with the Coke.

  “Are you ready for that Diet?” Trent asked, watching her with a curious expression.

  She nodded and he handed her the cup. Seffy drank deep, trying to get rid of the sugary taste in her mouth from the regular Coke. When she set the cup down, she felt the photograph digging into her skin from where it was still lodged in her bra. Seffy waited until Trent's attention was elsewhere, then quickly slid it out. She glanced at the image once more before concealing it on the side of her body facing away from Trent.

  He turned to her. “Are you feeling a little better?”

  She nodded. Maybe her most recent brush with death was affecting her decisions, but she felt a sudden urge to show him the photo despite her earlier intention he never see it. “Um, do you remember when we were in that Montana mall and you asked me if we ever would've gotten together in normal 2006?”

  He surveyed her with a slightly amused look. “Yes, though I remember your answer even more. 'Not in a million years'.”

  “Well, what if I was wrong?”

  He raised his brows. “Okay, I'm getting whiplash here. If I try to flirt with you, you physically abuse me, then you try to take sexual advantage of me at Universal Studios, where kids are supposed to be kids—”

  She rolled her eyes. “That's Toys R Us.”

  “Whatever. And now you want to talk about this? Maybe that regular Coke was a bad idea.”

  “Just answer the question. Or, say we did eventually get together. How would we have met?”

  He looked down at his hands for several moments, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Well, since you were trying to break into acting, and I worked with a director—”

  “Okay, hold on just a sec. You really were a director's assistant? On an actual film crew?”

  “Fine, I was a personal assistant to the director. I picked up the mail and dry cleaning, and had to be available twenty-four hours a day, all for a few bucks a week. Plus, the guy kept hitting on me. I stayed because I needed the money.”

  Seffy looked down at an ancient wad of gum, shiny and black, pressed into the sidewalk. “I know that director. You once mentioned his name.”

  Trent looked at her with a frown. Suddenly, awareness dawned in his eyes. “Oh, God. Seffy, not him.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I swear if I ever get back to the real world, I'll quit my job—after I beat the crap out of him.”

  She released a breath. “The only reason I mentioned it is to show that the circle is getting smaller. We've gone from both living in the same town to having a mutual—”

  “Scumbag.”

  “So we know there would've been a chance that we might've met.”

  He rubbed his forehead, not meeting her eyes. “Then, uh, maybe a biz party. But you probably wouldn't have noticed me, since I'd be the one running to the liquor store for more booze for my boss.”

  She smiled a little. “I don't think it would've been at a party. I always had my guard up the highest at parties. I didn't even like to go. Everyone was always posturing and trying to find someone to be their next rung on the ladder.”

  “That's true.” He stared out at the crowd, his hands gripped tightly around his knees. “So...maybe at a grocery store or a restaurant?”

  Why did he seem hesitant now? Last time they talked about this idea, he'd been in earnest. “Possibly a restaurant, I guess. But I was always with my friends. Would you have approached my table under those circumstances?”

  Trent turned back to her, his expression flat. “Even if I had, you wouldn't have noticed me since you'd be slobbering all over your princely Gareth.”

  She smiled a little. “That's possible.” Suddenly she had a thought. “Oh!”

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “I was thinking maybe we met at the clinic where I worked but that wouldn't have happened unless you were an oncology patient.”

  Trent looked down at his hands. “Never had a need for an oncologist.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I guess we'll never know.” Seffy thought of the intimacy reflected in the photo. What had their courtship been like? Where did they go on dates? Had they...slept together? Despite offering Trent herself moments ago, she'd known he wouldn't take her up on such an outrageous request. But in a dating scenario, surely...things had progressed.

  An mental image of lying naked in his arms flared in her mind, making her dizzy.

  Trent sighed and shifted his body toward her. “Do you want to know why I was so mean to you when we first met in that safe house of Malone's?”

  She met his eyes, wondering if he could discern her wanton thoughts. What had they been talking about anyway? “Uh...”

  His mouth twisted. “When I walked into that dark hovel after being chased by those damn zombie fiends, the first thing I saw was you sitting on that couch, smiling and loopy. You were like this gorgeous, glorious thing in a world gone mad.”

  Seffy didn't know what to say. His steady gaze seemed sincere. Too bad she didn't remember much about that night aside from her own self-humiliation.

  “You didn't see me. You only noticed Clay. He was a friend of Jared's who came to lunch with us that day. It was the first time I'd met him, and I wasn't impressed. He was shallow, vain, and I'm not even sure he liked girls.”

  Seffy put up her hand. “In my defense, my judgment was seriously impaired b
y Malone's grog.”

  “Excuses, excuses.” He shook his head. “I was so offended that you'd prefer someone like him to me. It sounds conceited, but there it is. Then I found out that you kinda cheated on your maybe boyfriend with him, which meant I had even less of a chance of being noticed by you.”

  “It was a bit messy as I remember.” Understatement of the year. She still doubted whether Gareth had forgiven her for that lapse with Clay. Or the lapses that had preceded that.

  Trent's mouth tightened. “I guess I was jealous. It was stupid because I didn't even know you.”

  “I'm not sure why you were looking for romance in that situation.”

  “I wasn't looking for romance, Sef. I was...”

  Seffy studied his odd expression. Why did she wonder if he stopped himself from saying I was looking for you? Impossible. Because they were strangers. “Either way, it was kind of a rocky start, huh?”

  “Seffy, it's still rocky. I mean look at us. We're a disaster.”

  She lowered her gaze, aware of the photo still hidden to one side. Can't argue with that. “So how did we hook up?” When he didn't answer right away, she looked up.

  He frowned. “What do you mean?” Then he grinned, though his smile didn't reach his eyes. “Did I miss something? I only had a couple of beers last night, so I think I'd remember anything fun.”

  Seffy wondered if she was making a mistake when she handed him the photograph. He wordlessly took it and unfolded it, his smile fading. She watched as his face turned red and white by turns.

  Finally he looked up at her, his gray eyes wide. “Where did you get this?” His voice came out rough.

  “It was in a frame by my bed in the Elysian Hills house.”

  He snorted softly. “Now I know why you punched me.”

  “It...was just such a shock.”

  “It is a shock.”

  Trent stared at her until she felt her face heat. “You must be the girlfriend the article about me mentioned.”

  Oh, God. Seffy felt blindsided by the notion. “Makes sense, I guess,” she said in a hollow voice.

  Neither of them said anything for several minutes. Seffy tried to block her reeling brain against the intimacy, the devastation, the tragedy of what had happened to their alternate selves. Being blasted through time and ending up in a Montana compound on the run from zombies wasn't so bad, all things considered.

  He regarded the photo. “Maybe we're looking at this backward. Maybe we didn't hook up at first. Maybe...our parallel selves survived the compound in Montana, came back here, and then we hooked up. I mean, we don't even know where we are on the time line—or which time line we're on.”

  Seffy furrowed her brow, trying to follow his reasoning. Was it possible? That they'd only just completed the first phase of a downward spiral? Hang on, kids, death and woe comin' right up! “Sounds like it's starting to turn into a time tangle.”

  “Yeah.”

  She bit her lip, no longer sure she knew which way was up. “I wasn't going to show you the picture, but now there's no point in not doing it since you'll be finding it on my dead body soon enough.”

  “I wish you wouldn't say stuff like that.”

  “Sorry, gallows humor.” She cleared her throat. “Well, there's no reason to make a big deal about this. I just saw it as some kind clue that could help us figure things out.”

  “It's more than that, and you know it.” He leaned a little closer, his gaze searching. “You know how I feel about you.”

  Seffy met his eyes, her teeth denting her lips. “Maybe you're mistaking love for some kind of misguided obsession.”

  He sat back, a smirk on his face. “I'm not sure there's a huge difference.”

  “I mean, maybe it's how we started. You're still angry about that first night and anger is a strong emotion that could be mistaken for something else.”

  Trent's eyes darkened. “You always assume the worst about me.”

  Seffy knew there was some truth to his words.

  “Trust me, I'm no stalker. As soon as we're out of this mess, I'm gone if that's what you want.” When she was silent, he continued. “Or maybe you're the one who is mixed up. Maybe this is all just some fun game. Oh, I know, you're practicing your acting skills by playing the damsel in distress. Is that how you've managed to string Gareth along all these years?”

  Seffy clenched her fists together to avoid slapping him. Her heart pounded hard and her hot dog threatened to make a reappearance.

  “I think we've established that we don't trust each others motivations.” Trent got to his feet. “This just never would've happened. I don't care what the picture shows.”

  Seffy watched as he tore the photograph in two and dropped the pieces into her lap.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Seffy stared at what amounted to a metaphor. She took the remnants of the photograph and stuffed them in her pocket. Littering—especially in one's tangential life—probably wasn't a good thing. In the next instant, she chided herself for being so cold. Peeking up at Trent, who stood scanning the crowd, she felt bad that he felt bad. But maybe this was for the best—this quasi-break up of a nearly non-existent relationship.

  She got to her feet as well, dusting off her bottom and keeping her thoughts to herself. They still had a serious problem and she didn't want to annoy him further.

  He checked his watch and let out a gusty sigh. “It's one o'clock now and the park closes at nine. If we go back to the apartment, I'm sure someone will be there waiting. We can stay here for a few hours but it just puts off the inevitable.” He looked at her, his expression impenetrable. “We might need to separate.”

  Seffy gasped. “No. That is a bad idea.”

  “Whether it's good or bad, we might not have a choice.”

  She shook her head, panicked. “I'm going with you. You can't leave me alone.”

  He turned and started walking. Seffy tossed her lunch stuff in a trash can and jogged after him. “Is this because you're mad at me?”

  “I'm not the game player here, you are.”

  “I do not play games, Trent.”

  He ignored her and walked deeper into the park.

  She didn't string people along. Occasionally she made a bad choice—like making out with a zombie—but she was never intentionally cruel.

  Seffy glanced over her shoulder, feeling nervous. She hurried to catch up to Trent, who suddenly seemed hellbent on visiting every damn attraction in the park. Seffy didn't want to admit it, but she felt the loss of his attachment keenly. People filtered past, blocking her way. She tripped over the wheel of a stroller.

  “Trent, wait up, please!”

  He stopped and watched as she made her way toward him. “Sorry, I though you were right behind me.”

  “Uh, can you wait a minute? There's a restroom nearby and I need to go.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and looked bored. She turned and went to join the line to the bathroom. Apparently on top of time travel, attempted murder, and guy problems, she was going to have to endure line-standing awkwardness as well. Seffy kept an eye on Trent, making sure he didn't abandon her to her fate. Finally, she made it inside the building.

  When she came out of the stall to wash her hands a few minutes later, she noticed the bathroom seemed less full. She found a free sink and was dismayed at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was scratched and dirty. Why didn't Trent tell her? She washed her face and hands, wishing she had a comb and some basic makeup. At least blush. After she dried her face with rough paper towels, she realized she was alone.

  How was that possible in a park of this size?

  “Hello? Is anyone in here?”

  Her voice bounced off the walls, but no one answered.

  Seffy looked around, confused. What were the odds that people at a packed theme park suddenly had no need for a bathroom? Not great.

  The screech of a swinging metal door echoed in the empty space. The sound of a lock clunking into place made her look tow
ard the corner that led to the entrance. Who was there? Did she dare call out? Her heart began to pound. Next, she heard the sound of a heavy footstep.

  Without pausing to think through her actions, Seffy silently raced down the line of stalls and went inside one near the end. She got onto the toilet, breathing hard, and noticed her door lock was broken. Crap! Then again, this was stupid. It was probably just the maintenance guy shooing everyone out so he could clean. How embarrassing that he would find a dumb girl cowering in a stall.

  Another footstep. Then the sliding action on a shot gun. Seffy stiffened. Not the maintenance guy. God, it's the shooter. As she braced her hands against the walls of the stall she feared her trembling would shake the metal frame, giving her presence away.

  The gunman didn't say a word. All was eerily silent except the buzz of the fluorescent lights above and his heavy tread making his way toward her. Suddenly a crash made her jump. He'd kicked open the first stall. How did he know she was here? Could it be the same man who tried to kill her before? Wasn't he dead?

  WHY IS SOMEONE AFTER ME?

  Crash! The second stall shook with the force of his kick, making her let out a squeak of fright.

  Seffy couldn't control her breathing, coming now in gasps. Surely he heard her and was just toying with her.

  The third stall door slammed open.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, praying for a quick death. Seffy was sorry she'd parted with Trent on such a negative note. In many ways, he'd been her friend when no one else would be. She wished she could take back some of the harsh things she'd said.

  Crash!

  One more door.

  She began to shake so hard, she feared slipping from the toilet. Hyperventilation threatened to do it if the tremors didn't. She stared at the graffiti-covered door and saw a shadow through the lock hole. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Not like this. Not mown down in a filthy restroom. Seffy swallowed hard and kicked the door with every bit of force she could muster.

  She heard the man stumble. She kicked it again then jumped from the toilet when she saw he'd fallen. Slamming out of the door, she found him struggling to get up. It was a different guy. She jumped anyway and landed hard on his crotch. As he doubled-up in pain, she yanked the shotgun from his hands, turned it on him and pulled the trigger.