Deathrun

XVII. Spaghetti

It's hard to leave your room after an android has indirectly insulted you. 

I had washed off in the bathroom as soon as we had gotten into our own rooms, the water deliciously hot. Shame it had shut off 5 minutes in, leaving me covered in shampoo suds. I had stood in front of the mirror to fix my wild tangle of dark hair, but apparently a lot more than me had needed fixing than just that.

"27 flaws detected." A blue circle scans my face so quickly I'm left blinking at my reflection.

"Um... where?" I ask. A beep answers me cheerily.

"There are currently 13 on your skin, 5 on your eyebrows, 4 on your mouth, 2-"

"Shut up," I cut off.

"Processing." I wait a few seconds until nothing happens, then exit the bathroom. Tacky Androids. Circe had given me the brief instruction of 'get dressed and don't be late' before hurrying off into a shrieking mob of other ladies who all kissed her on the cheeks way too many times. Deciding not to get smooched myself, I had done as I was told and now tugged on the much more fashionable, flowy jumpsuit she had given me. It was a deep color that couldn't decide between navy and violet, pant fabric going down to my toes, the top loose and held up with spaghetti straps.

Speaking of spaghetti.

A short knock sounds at my door, and I stride across the room to open it. Rush stands with his hands in the pockets of a black suit, the crisp white shirt underneath unbuttoned at the top, the tie hastily done.

"You look nice, racerboy," I drawl, very deliberately dragging my eyes up and down his form. Rush frowns at me, his dark blue eyes the only color on him. "So," I lean against the doorway. "You come to get me?"

"I don't know where the dining room is," he replies flatly.

"Well, you're in luck because neither do I." Disregarding his stammered retort I hook my arm through his and begin heading randomly down the hallway. He's warm, a lot warmer than me. I wonder if he'd bite me if I walked closer.

"Hey!" I stop and glance over my shoulder as a bumbling head of blonde waves rushed towards us. It's her, the girl on blades, the one who had whizzed by us in the interlocking doors section of the race. "Congratulations!" she bubbled. "You guys were amazing, I was so happy to hear that we'd be going with you. Isn't it so strange here, the Androids? They were all 'your face has too many flaws'. God, it was horrible." She laughs and I find myself laughing with her it's so contagious.

"I've never had a mirror insult me like that either," I tell her. "And those realistic models are a little," I make a face and the blonde girl nods enthusiastically.

"Iara, hurry!" she calls back down the hallway. Another girl joins her, considerably poutier.

"We would have won if it wasn't for you," she glowers, popping a gum. The shorter girl rolls her gorgeous eyes.

"Oh, hush. They deserve it. It's super hard being first anyway, the press'll be all over ya. This is Iara, by the way. I'm Marle." Marle gestures to her sassy companion, who levels her grey eyes at me, then Rush. Her white hair is chopped at her jaw, completely straight.

"Who's the silent one?" she asks, chewing loudly, her slanted eyes taking in Rush's cold ones.

"Rush," I answer, because he doesn't look like he's going to. "I'm Angie."  Yeah, cuz no one introduces themselves as Angel.

There's a beat of silence.

"Do you know where we're supposed to go?" I ask Marle, who nods her head of hair again.

"Yea yea, we got here early. C'mon, it's insanely zam." She practically glides down the hallway, Iara stalking after her, arms crossed. My stomach rumbles. 

Spaghetti