Here's another chapter<3

André Butch is a robo man... or boy, whatever. The point is that he's one of them.

It's Wednesday and I'm behind the counter. Standing at attention even if there's no one here.

Sage and Hesther are behind, as usual on Wednesday's, fixing our turkey sandwiches.

André Butch walks in around 1:30pm. His hair is a golden halo on his head. Eyes as bright as diamonds stare at me as he steps forward, towards the counter.

"Good afternoon and welcome to 'The Diner', what would you like to have?"
I say.

He pick up the menu hologram, as usual, and looks through it. "Do you have beef jerkey soup and green beans?"

I shake my head. "No." Because we never have it.

"Okay then. A bowl of chicken soup, and a sandwich." He places the paper menu back down.

"What type?"

"Surprise me."

So, I get him his soup and the usual chicken salad sandwich, and walk back behind the counter.

He doesn't take a single bite. Just sits there, all long jean clad legs and hoodie cloaked shoulders, staring right back at me.

Finally, after ten minutes, he gestures for the check like this is some big shot restaurant.

When I reach his side, he simply slips a twenty under the bowl, stands up and reaches for my hand.

I let him lead me out of the diner and to the back alley where no one apart from us and stray cats go.

In an instant my back is pressed against the wall, and his lips are slated against mine, and his tongue is entangled with my tongue. His hand slide into my long hair, he takes a fist-full of it and tilts my head.

Reaching up, I run my fingers through his silky hair, grab at it, pull at it. Gosh is it silky.

He lets out a groan, sucks on my bottom lip. His hands are in my hair and on my waist, holding me to him and pressing me against the wall at the same time.

My other hand is pressed against his heart, or where it used to be. There's no heartbeat, just a sort of hum. It reminds me of why I'm doing this. Why I'm kissing one of the robo people in a dark alley and sliding my tongue over his.

In due time we pull away, while I'm slightly panting, he just lets out a breathy sigh that for some weird reason always makes my toes curl.

"That Sandwich was good." He says and pushes a blond strand of hair behind my ear.

"You didn't even taste it."

He smiles, as usual, leans over to press me into the wall, and kisses me again.

I understand why he's doing this too. And that makes me feel even better.

After spending a while with André Butch, he slips me a twenty and drives away in his cute monster truck. It's green and he got it for his last birthday. It must've cost a fortune because those thing had basically gone extinct. Driving in one was like driving in a gold museum.

Once I step back into the restaurant, Sage hands me my sandwich and cash, and, says I've been given the rest of the day off. This has happened every Wednesday since André started coming in. I'm given the day off because they suspect there's something romantic between us and that I'm the one who's responsible for bringing him in. Coupled with the fact that that he comes in on Saturday's too. While we aren't romantically involved, I am sort of the reason why he still comes here, so I happily take the food and money, then, head home early.

Like every Wednesday for the last two years.

Dad and Mom are sitting in the living room watching television. It's different from the televisions I see in those old movies. It's as slim as the side of an ATM card and the images are sort of hovering over the screen instead of being in it.

They know I always bring twenty extra bucks and arrive early On Wednesday's and Saturday's, they just don't know how or why.

A plate of leftover pasta is sitting warm on the counter for me. I slip it back into the fridge, for tonight, and trudge to my room.

My room is tiny but comforting. There is a bead drape over the little window that overlooks some sort of business complex. In the night it glows different colors and makes my room look even better.

I've got different odds and ends collected over the years. A pink and gold stripped zebra sits on my crammed table along with a blue seashell. I've never been to the beach, I found it on the sidewalk, not sure how it got there though.

Once I'm out of my clothes, in a huge ratty T-shirt and socks, I settle into my little but super comfortable bed and sink my teeth into the turkey sandwich. While slowly eating I scroll through my pear pad. It's an old model and can't hologram in 4D, but it's mine.

I love watching old movies because it gives me a wider glimpse of what the world was like ages ago. The slick light cars can now use water and gel instead of gas. There's a few that can actually hover, but apart from that, transportation is not nearly the same.

I can hear dad get up and move about downstairs. He's getting ready for his afternoon shift at the hospital.

Before the new dawn, people could get sick, and so, being a doctor really brought a lot of money in. Now however, they don't get sick, just hardware viruses. So, only the few who haven't been changed actually use the hospitals, and everyone cannot be sick all the time.

He is paid a hundred bucks a week. We spend forty at most. Ten is kept in the general emergency stock, twenty is kept away for my future, and thirty is kept for my mom's emergencies, if there's ever one.

I sigh. Thinking of my life is depressing.

My shirts are either ratty and really big, or too tight and barely wearable. The only thing that's still good are my shoes. For some reason my feet isn't growing anymore, so I've been using the same size for three years now.

"Harper, I'm off." Dad calls, i.e 'come hang out with your mother.'

With a sigh I sit up. "See you soon, I'll get dinner ready." I.e, 'I hear ya dad.'

A few minutes after he leaves, I sluggishly get up and trudge down the steps.

Mom is sitting on the dining table, staring into space.

I have to hold back a sigh. "Have you eaten anything?"

She blinks. "No."

"Well, you have to eat something to stay healthy." I walk to the tiny fridge, pull it open. Of course she can't eat normal food. There is this weird blue slushy chemical that she is supposed to drink, eat -whatever, at least every twelve days. It is expensive as shit.

"I'm not hungry."

I feel the angry rise in me like a ballon. With a calming sigh, I turn and lean against the counter. Squeeze my arms together to calm myself. "Well that doesn't really matter mom. Eating keeps us alive, even you."

She shoots me a venomous glare, the most emotion she's shown all week. "I'm sure you'd prefer me dead. Your own mother."

I ignore her and take out the liquid pack. "Dad's getting some fruit... He says you haven't eaten for more than a week." I level my gaze on her. "You know more than twelve days and you start malfunctioning."

She scoffs and looks away. "I'm. Not. Hungry."

I snap. Growl through my teeth, "It doesn't matter if you're hungry. It doesn't matter if you don't want to eat or not. All that matters is that we are barely making it by and you're acting like a spoilt brat!!" I am so close to saying Bitch instead.

She goes back to staring into space and I want to smack her hard. I clench my hands into fists to prevent doing that.
"You have to eat. If not for you, for dad."

She keeps ignoring me.

I grab a glass and throw it at the wall. I'm so angry I could burst. I could squeeze her little electronic neck. But, I know I can't hurt her, at least not physically. So, I use the best weapon I know. My words.
"It would've been better if you died. At least you would've died being an actual human being and mother." With this, I turn around and stomp out of the house, to the roof.