Adam | Short Story

Part Seven

My mother calls in the morning as I'm curling a section of hair into a perfect roll. I pin it under before answering on my iBand. "Hey."

"Good morning, Victoria."

Since we're in vid-mode, I see my mother's face nice and clear against my skin. Her wrinkles are starting to show again. I see them within each tired line around her eyes.

Like me, Mom has ruby hair—something she said that looks best on our oatmeal skin tone when I was a young girl and I haven't had the courage to dye it anything else since. Also like me, she has freckles. But hers are less prominent.

"Everything alright?" I ask.

My mother sips her cup of morning brew. I hear my father on a conference call in the background. "When can I come over to see your botman?"

I sigh, glancing out the bedroom door. Adam is still slumped over on the couch. I haven't turned him back on since last night. There's no point; he's clearly defective.

"Turns out he needs some reprogramming."

She slurps. "Oh gosh, you're kidding." Another slurp. "Will they refund you a little for the inconvenience?"

"I don't know, Mom. I guess it's not their fault. The tech says it rarely happens."

"Victoria, I'll call them. They should compensate you. How long will it take?"

"Tech says weeks."

"Weeks?" My mother puts down her cup. "Absolutely unacceptable."

"Mom, don't get involved. I can handle this myself. I'm thirty-one, for fuck's sake."

She shrugs. "Of course, honey, but I don't mind."

"Well, I do." There's a knock on my door. The tech. "Look, I have to go."

"Will you at least keep me informed?" There is a snippiness in her tone.

"Sure."

"Maybe in the meantime you can try hologram dating."

"Goodbye, Mom."

"You're not getting any younger and neither are your father and I."

I clench my jaw. "I'll consider it."

My mother raises her chin. "I'll sign you up today. Goodbye, Victoria."

I disconnect the line and allow a growl to rupture from my diaphragm. There is no use ever trying to have an opinion with that woman. Nathalie Scott knows best. The end.

My doorbell chimes.

Sighing at my unfinished hair, I brush the rest of it behind me, where it falls to the middle of my back. At least I'm dressed for work and look presentable. I'm wearing a beige dress with a v-line silhouette. The dress is really cute, too. Snapped a picture of it with my iBand and instantly uploaded it to ConNekt. Even Lyla James sent a heart.

When I open the door, Blue looks momentarily confused. I realize it's probably because he doesn't recognize me. The last time he was over, it was a Saturday. I had done nothing noteworthy with my hair and had no makeup on then.

He clears his throat. "H-hi, Ms. Scott."

I let him in, trying not to smirk. "Adam's on the couch."

"Is he alert?"

"I shut him down."

Scarlet begins squawking as soon as Blue steps into the main room. He grimaces at her noise. "I see some things never change." He ignores Adam and walks over to Scarlet, tapping her cage's metal bars with his clunky fingers. He clicks his tongue and Scarlet pauses, cocking her head. "You know, I used to have a bird growing up."

"Really?"

He looks over his shoulder. "A parakeet."

I smile.

"Ended up giving her to my grams, though. Too much work."

My smile flattens. "Oh."

He stands erect. "I always regretted it."

"Why's that?"

He rubs a hand over his bald head and I wonder what ethnicity he is with that darker complexion and almost-black eyes. There isn't a thing on him that suggests he recolors his eyes or uses a serum to regrow his hair or that he logs into ConNekt fifty times a day like I do. He reminds me of my dad in that sense. Old fashioned.

He continues, "I guess it just felt like I gave up on her too soon. But I was so young, I didn't understand the responsibility."

Something in my stomach twists. And suddenly, his baldness isn't so affronting.

"Maybe you could buy a new one?" I suggest.

He laughs. "I don't know...Maybe I'm too set in my ways, Ms. Scott."

"Tori."

"Tori," he repeats. "That's a nice name."

Blue isn't so bad, either.

He blows out air and shuffles over to Adam on the couch. He asks nothing about the scratches on his face or why his golden brown hair is disheveled. "Alright, big guy. Let's get you to the dock."

He picks up the emergency remote on the end table and punches in a code. Adam springs to life without a word—like he's a zombie. He stands from the couch and waits to follow Blue to the door.

"I'll try to keep you updated as much as I can," he says.

"Thanks."

It isn't until they're both gone that Scarlet restarts her squawking. I faintly wonder if I should've asked Blue more questions about himself. 

Author's Note: 

Thank you for reading!! If you feel so inclined, please don't forget to "vote" at the end of each "part" :D  Just TWO more parts left! 

Question:  So... Blue doesn't seem so bad, eh? 

Total Word Count: 5612