Derek stared apprehensively at the steaming bowl of soup in front of him. Adette sat across the table from him, watching him earnestly with big, hopeful green eyes. “Go on, try it!” she said, beaming. He gave her a mistrustful glance but nonetheless, picked up the spoon and shovelled some into his mouth. It was the best thing he’d tasted in years.
“Is it okay?” she asked anxiously, biting her lip. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to cook, especially for anyone other than myself; I mean, usually my robots do it for me, but-“
She seemed to catch herself and sat up straighter in her seat, pressing her lips together a little. “Never mind.”
He watched her while she blabbered on nervously, and for the first time that he could remember in many years, he found the edge of his lips curling up. Then, a strange feeling bubbling in his chest. And then, all of a sudden, he was laughing. It didn’t sound like his.
Now she frowned with a mixture of bewilderment and offence. “What? I didn’t make a joke.” However, a slight quiver at her lips showed she was trying not to laugh too.
“Nothing, it’s just…” he gasped, trying to settle his laughter. “It’s just, there was something about how you seem so nervous when I’m the one who’s in your house, using your shower, wearing your clothes, eating your food… it’s just funny, that’s all.”
Adette paused for a moment and then gave a relieved little smile. “Well… I’m glad to amuse you.”
“Seriously though, this is the best thing I’ve tasted in years,” he said, spooning another mouthful in. Adette glowed with pride.
They ate in silence for several moments before Derek eventually broke the silence.
“So, you going to tell me about your freaky-ass talking shower or am I just still high as shit?”
Adette giggled a little, twirling her spoon.
“Well, I don’t quite know how to explain it… when I was a little girl, I got into robotics, and I guess I never stopped.”
“So what was that little robot thingy you had earlier?”
Adette just smiled shyly. “Trade secret.”
Derek raised an eyebrow. “What kind of secret you want from a bum like me? Pretty sure you already got it all figured out, you seem pretty smart. Even if you don’t know shit about the streets, you can probably still figure out I’m a homeless bum that’s hooked on coke.”
Adette was silent for a moment, appearing to be choosing her words.
“You’d be surprised how much I ‘know shit’ about the streets. And I know that ‘bums’ with a coke addiction as severe as yours have a motive. What’s your motive, boy?”
For a long moment, Derek seemed to be shocked into silence.
“Look here chick, that shit’s classified,” he said finally.
“Look here boy, I don’t give a fuck. I’ll tell you what up with the little robot if you tell me what up with your coke addiction.”
He gave her a long, hard glare, but on the inside he was stunned. Was she really speaking like he did? It didn’t seem fitting.
“Fine, you really want to know? Just the usual sob story, nothing exciting. My father thought I was a puss, my mother didn’t want me, the other kids hated me, coke was at first my way in to social acceptance but became my way out of having to think about that shit in the past. It got out of control, real fast.”
He braced himself for the sympathetic look he had a feeling she would give him, which would in turn piss him off. But what she did next confused him even more. She just nodded coolly, physically appearing to relax.
“Okay. See, that wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”
He eyed her for a long moment. “Girl, you don’t make sense. Why would you take a homeless coke addict of the streets, take him into your house, shower him, feed him and ask him to tell you about his past?”
She watched him with her arms folded while he spoke, then wordlessly pulled the little robot from where it had apparently been sitting in her pocket and placed it on the table.
“This robot is what I like to call a ‘heart detector’. Believe it or not, there is extremely subconscious psychology that give away tell-tale signs of how good; or bad; a person is. However, these are easily missed with the ordinary human eye. This little guy is programmed to pick them up and tell me just how good of a person everyone I ever encounter is. It lets out a series of tones. The higher the pitch, the better the person. When I walked past you, this robot made the highest pitch tone I had ever heard it make.”
During her explanation, Derek has leaned forward and put his head in her hands.
“Right. So, I’m not questioning your robot thing, but how do you know it’s not malfunctioning? Or that it’s even accurate in the first place?”
“Because,” she said quietly, “It saved my life once.”
“Yes, but still, what if it’s wrong?”
“Well, then I guess you might as well go ahead and stab me and get it over with.”
Then, for a long time, neither of them said anything.
“You’re staying with me, by the way.”
“I think I knew that.”
