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only possible in my fantasy
world, where I have doting parents who love me, a little sister
named Ramona, and a puppy who still pees on the floor.
    In the real world, I only have two people:
Myself and Sync.

Chapter 4:
    Lucy

     
    I push through the door to my house—note I
said house, not home—three minutes before curfew. Sync is tucked
away in my bag, probably dreaming of MaXXXXX and acquiring a human
body so she can seduce him and have kinky robot sex with him.
Ew.
    Mr. Rockwell is sitting in his recliner, hand
on the remote for the Holoscreen. He’s not tall, but he’s big. And
intimidating. And he knows it. His hair is swept away from his face
in graying copper curls and his steely grey eyes meet mine as I
walk through the room.
    “Hey.” I try for nonchalant.
    “It’s 10:01.”
    “My clock says 9:59.”
    “I’ll let it slide this time, Lucy. We’ve set
curfew for a reason. I don’t think you understand just how good you
have it here.”
    I refrain from rolling my eyes. That’ll get
me grounded for sure. I force a nod. “Sorry,” I mumble, turning
away from him. I feel fire lap at my throat, anger boiling deep
within me. I want, so badly, to reach out and just…touch him. Take
a little. Not enough to hurt him. Just enough to scare him. He’d
never bother me again.
    “Night,” I say, zipping away before I can act
on impulses. God, I can’t wait till I’m out of here. Then I’ll come
home whenever I want and no one will be able to snap at me for
it.
    I pass Mrs. Rockwell in her room as I head up
the stairs. She’s lying in bed, the blankets pulled up around her.
The Holo’s on, muted, and she’s just staring at it as lights
flicker across her face. I hesitate at the door, watching her for a
moment, feeling a pang of regret for wanting to soul-suck Mr.
Rockwell when he has to deal with a sickly wife. It’s a miracle
they want me at all, even if I am just free money coming in.
    “Aely?” Her voice is tiny.
    I clear my throat. “Lucy,” I say, leaning
against the doorjamb. Her face crumples and she shakes her head.
Maybe I should’ve let her believe I was her lost daughter. “Do you
need something?”
    “Oh. No. Don’t worry about it, sweetie.” She
turns over in bed. I back out of the room, clutching the strap of
my bag tightly. As I head towards my bedroom, I hear her whimpering
from beneath the sheets and it rips at my heart.
    If I was a good person, I’d go back and
comfort her. Go back and…do something. But Aely’s gone. She’s been
gone for years and it’s cruel to pretend with someone who’s
probably not even aware of the present date and time.
    My room is actually the den, fixed up to look
like a bedroom. I have no closet, only a dresser with three
drawers. My bed’s a twin, but it’s still cramped in here. I have a
little pathway to walk through and that’s about it.
    I sink down on my bed, feeling the old
mattress creak beneath my weight. I unbuckle my boots and kick them
off, wiggling my toes. I strip out of my jeans and leave them in a
pile on the floor. They’re not dirty and they’re the one good pair
I have, so I’ll wear them again. I shimmy into an oversized T-shirt
that comes down past my thighs and flop back on the bed.
    Sync pushes her way out of the bag and hovers
above the dresser that’s pushed up against the bed. “I so wish I
could meet MaXXX in real life. He’s so…”
    “Dreamy?” I offer, a quirk to my lips.
“Sex-on-toast?”
    “Is that even possible?”
    I laugh. “Someday, Sync, we’ll get you an
android body and transfer your files over. You’ll have long, sexy
legs and you can wear boots, as long as they’re not as awesome as
my boots. Can’t have you out-looking me.” I stretch out on the bed,
kicking the sheets out from under me and tugging them to my chin.
“Light?”
    “Someday,” Sync agrees. She flies over,
nudges the light off, and then comes back to bed, glowing a path to
her spot on the dresser. She’s my own personal