Your Robot Boyfriend

Not a Thief

The knocking at the door continued.

Confused at who would be knocking on the door this late at night, he assumed it was just Haliya coming back to get something she forgot, but he checked through the window anyway. He found a tall guy. In his mind, he mentally noted him as American, even though he really didn't have any other proof except that he was white. And it was dark outside, so it was hard to see him.

He seemed harmless enough, but he was cautious enough to grab a stick from- well, wherever he got it.

He opened the door, hiding the stick in the hand he hid behind the door while opening it, as to not alarm the stranger.

"No thank you, I'm not interested in the Jesus or buying anything," Stefan said, already slowly starting to close the door.

But the guy immediately tried to get his attention by waving his arms obnoxiously and saying,

"Wait, wait, wait! I'm not looking to sell anything! I- are you Stefan River-a?"

"You mean Ri-ve-ra?"

"Yes, yes, Rivera, is that how you say it? I'm so sorry."

"Oh. Sure, sure, sure, no problem. Listen, how do I know you again?"

The stranger scratched his head at this question, he was obviously nervous about his answer. Stefan didn't care much for it. If it was a debt, he would be happy to pay it and get on with his evening. But his wallet was still gone, and he had yet to visit an ATM Machine to get more money. So he listened on, hoping it wasn't what he thought.

"I, uh," he started, but didn't continue. He reached into his pocket, quickly pulling out a wallet and ID, and showed it to Stefan.

The expression on Stefan's face changed faster than you could say "thief". From annoyance and anxiety, his face became the face of confusion, realization, then rage. But the guy continued.

"This place is very backwards. It turns out I can't use any of these cards because it's not scanned automatically."

He leaned closer to whisper, oblivious to Stefan's reaction, "Can you imagine having to look at someone's face to verify if it's really their ID they're holding? I mean it's crazy!"

"You," Stefan said, pulling the door wide open, revealing the stick he held with his other hand, "You thief!"

At that, the guy stepped back. But Stefan tackled him to the ground before he could explain himself.

"I don't know if this is a threat, but you don't steal from Stefan Rivera, show up to his house and hope to survive!"

"I - I'm not a thief! And did you seriously refer to yourself in the third person?" the guy forced out, all while trying to protect his face from the not-so-lethal stick that Stefan was now attacking him with.

Speaking of attacking, Stefan had no plan to listen, reply, or stop mindlessly hitting the alleged thief with what he had. And what he had was, well, a stick. But the guy was taller and stronger. Strong enough that with his full force, he finally pushed his attacker off of him, grabbed the stick from his hand, and started to explain.

"I swear I'm not a thief. I just really needed this. I need to find a new identity. I'm hiding from some bad people."

"You don't need crap. What you need is to get the hell out of my house-" he snatched the IDs from him, "-the hell out of my face-" he started pushing him down the mountain, "-and try to find a better excuse. New identity? Bad people? Help you, my ass!"

"Hey!" the guy planted his feet on the ground, becoming surprisingly heavy, as if he were made of more than flesh, brain, and bones.

"You are very mean for someone who grew up in a religious family," he pointed at Stefan.

"What do you know about my family anyway? And I happen to be mean enough for someone who grew up in a religious family, crackhead."

"Yup, there it is again."

"Look, okay, you're probably just some poor fella who couldn't find a home- which is surprising because you're white and pretty as all hell- and decided 'Hey, why don't I steal from someone?' And here we both are now."

"No I-"

"So tell you what, I'm gonna give you a hundred," Stefan definitely took out more than a hundred from his wallet, but did it matter? "And you can't show your face here, ever."

"I-"

"Ever."

"Listen!" he finally grabbed Stefan's hand and shut him up, "I'm not a thief!"

Stefan gave him a look of disbelief, which urged the guy to continue.

"No I- I did steal your wallet and your IDs but I was planning on giving it back, I promise, Scout's Honor!"

"There's no honor in stealing, cub scout."

"And you're right, but there is honor in telling the truth. And the truth is that I am hiding from the government and I do need a new identity. I need your help."

He paused.

"Please."

"You know what," Stefan said, "Come here. What's your name?"

"Dave."

"Holy crap, that's the whitest name I've ever heard. Here's what's gonna happen, Dave."

And that's how Stefan Rivera agreed to let 'Dave' stay the night in one of the spare rooms in his house after dinner and a chat about things he wasn't so sure he believed. But he was bored, and Dave was fun to talk to. And he was sure Dave wouldn't steal anything else, I mean he let the guy into his house for God's sake.

Well, he was half right. Dave didn't steal anything, not yet anyway.