assembled another simile, folding its edges together. She trembled . . .
like water rippling.
On Friday nights, David, Clay, and Artie met at the campsite. It was a few miles northeast of the lake, no houses around. To David, it was evidence against Dr. Roger’s and his parents’ diagnosis.
“They think I’m all zombied out by computers and the net.”
“Zombied?” Rose asked.
“Brain-dead. But me and the guys chill here and get back to nature. We connect out here, you know? But not in a queer way.”
“Queer?” David’s usage conflicted with the definition she had.
“Gay.”
Deeper into the woods, lights flickered and voices bounded through the trees.
“The point is, I’m not disassociated. Though I don’t mind having you around.” He stopped and turned to her. “They can think I’m crazy if it means I get something as sweet as you.”
Rose’s blush was invisible in the gloom. David leaned in, but she ducked away, nearly stumbling over a tree root.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Not yet.”
“Shit.” David kicked the ground, and grit and pebbles sprayed her ankles. “All right. I guess I’ve had to wait before.”
“Before?”
David resumed walking, and Rose hurried to catch up. “Oh, and listen. The guys don’t know you’re a Companion, and I’d like to keep it that way. They’d think I was nuts. Or so lame, my parents bought me a sex doll. So just pretend you’re from out of town, OK?”
“Ii yo.”
David stopped again. “Wait. What’s that?”
“Nihongo wo hanashitara dou darou?”
“Are you speaking Japanese?”
Rose nodded.
David laughed. “Not
that
out of town. American.”
“OK.”
“Great,” David grumbled, making for the campsite. “I’m sure this will work.”
Farther on, they came upon another car parked in the weeds. It was black like David’s, but less shiny. A girl was in the passenger seat, her head flopped to one side, eyes closed.
“Clay’s sister,” said David. “It’s her car. Clay doesn’t have his license yet.”
“Is she recharging?”
“She’s passed out.” He shook his head. “Come on, it’s just down here.”
The campsite was an abandoned house foundation. Cement stairs descended to an overgrown pit with chunks of rock and slabs of iron. In the center a fire threw crazy shadows on the walls. Three people sat on the iron I beams — Clay, Artie, and a figure in a hooded sweatshirt.
“The Sun God arrives,” Clay thundered, getting to his feet. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence.”
Clay punched David in the shoulder and jumped back into a boxer’s stance. He was quick for a big guy.
“Come on, Sun. Let’s go. You and me. I’ll pummel that swimmer’s ass.”
“Get out. You’d have a coronary before the first bell.”
Clay laughed and handed David a beer. Artie nodded hello.
“Who’s the redhead?”
David put his arm around Rose’s shoulder. “Boys, I’d like you to meet Rose.”
“Charmed,” said Clay, bowing.
“I’m from out of town,” Rose said.
“Well, welcome to our humble village.” Clay spreadhis arms like a carnival barker. He was already drunk. “Lovely Westtown. The place so dull its name is a reference to someplace else. I’m Clay, and the guy impersonating Humphrey Bogart is Artie.”
“I thought you were grounded.” Artie was talking to David but staring at Rose.
David sat across from Clay. “Time off for good behavior,” he said, gesturing for Rose to sit. David popped a beer and took a long swallow.
“Where you from?” Artie asked Rose.
“Osaka.”
“Vermont,” David added quickly. “Osaka, Vermont. She just moved to town.”
The person in the hoodie sipped from the bottle. A few dark strands of hair dangled free from the hood. Shapely pale legs tapered to pink flip-flops. “You gonna go to Saint M’s?” Her voice was sweet, but her words were slurred.
Signs of intoxication, read the message beamed to Rose’s CPU. Forbidden. Red halos danced
like water rippling.
On Friday nights, David, Clay, and Artie met at the campsite. It was a few miles northeast of the lake, no houses around. To David, it was evidence against Dr. Roger’s and his parents’ diagnosis.
“They think I’m all zombied out by computers and the net.”
“Zombied?” Rose asked.
“Brain-dead. But me and the guys chill here and get back to nature. We connect out here, you know? But not in a queer way.”
“Queer?” David’s usage conflicted with the definition she had.
“Gay.”
Deeper into the woods, lights flickered and voices bounded through the trees.
“The point is, I’m not disassociated. Though I don’t mind having you around.” He stopped and turned to her. “They can think I’m crazy if it means I get something as sweet as you.”
Rose’s blush was invisible in the gloom. David leaned in, but she ducked away, nearly stumbling over a tree root.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Not yet.”
“Shit.” David kicked the ground, and grit and pebbles sprayed her ankles. “All right. I guess I’ve had to wait before.”
“Before?”
David resumed walking, and Rose hurried to catch up. “Oh, and listen. The guys don’t know you’re a Companion, and I’d like to keep it that way. They’d think I was nuts. Or so lame, my parents bought me a sex doll. So just pretend you’re from out of town, OK?”
“Ii yo.”
David stopped again. “Wait. What’s that?”
“Nihongo wo hanashitara dou darou?”
“Are you speaking Japanese?”
Rose nodded.
David laughed. “Not
that
out of town. American.”
“OK.”
“Great,” David grumbled, making for the campsite. “I’m sure this will work.”
Farther on, they came upon another car parked in the weeds. It was black like David’s, but less shiny. A girl was in the passenger seat, her head flopped to one side, eyes closed.
“Clay’s sister,” said David. “It’s her car. Clay doesn’t have his license yet.”
“Is she recharging?”
“She’s passed out.” He shook his head. “Come on, it’s just down here.”
The campsite was an abandoned house foundation. Cement stairs descended to an overgrown pit with chunks of rock and slabs of iron. In the center a fire threw crazy shadows on the walls. Three people sat on the iron I beams — Clay, Artie, and a figure in a hooded sweatshirt.
“The Sun God arrives,” Clay thundered, getting to his feet. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence.”
Clay punched David in the shoulder and jumped back into a boxer’s stance. He was quick for a big guy.
“Come on, Sun. Let’s go. You and me. I’ll pummel that swimmer’s ass.”
“Get out. You’d have a coronary before the first bell.”
Clay laughed and handed David a beer. Artie nodded hello.
“Who’s the redhead?”
David put his arm around Rose’s shoulder. “Boys, I’d like you to meet Rose.”
“Charmed,” said Clay, bowing.
“I’m from out of town,” Rose said.
“Well, welcome to our humble village.” Clay spreadhis arms like a carnival barker. He was already drunk. “Lovely Westtown. The place so dull its name is a reference to someplace else. I’m Clay, and the guy impersonating Humphrey Bogart is Artie.”
“I thought you were grounded.” Artie was talking to David but staring at Rose.
David sat across from Clay. “Time off for good behavior,” he said, gesturing for Rose to sit. David popped a beer and took a long swallow.
“Where you from?” Artie asked Rose.
“Osaka.”
“Vermont,” David added quickly. “Osaka, Vermont. She just moved to town.”
The person in the hoodie sipped from the bottle. A few dark strands of hair dangled free from the hood. Shapely pale legs tapered to pink flip-flops. “You gonna go to Saint M’s?” Her voice was sweet, but her words were slurred.
Signs of intoxication, read the message beamed to Rose’s CPU. Forbidden. Red halos danced
Similar Books
