Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Rose
Well this is awkward.
All I did was point out the two of them were giving each other ‘fuck me’ eyes and now they’re both ignoring me. You know what? That’s fine! I’m more than happy to occupy myself right now. I could jump into Lanadel to let Willow finish her work. Though that’s probably a bad idea. Even with how heavily warded my tower is, I don’t want to risk even the slightest chance that our lumbermen friends might get lucky and detect me returning. So relaxing in a more comfortable body is out of the picture. Now what do I do?
I look down at Willow who looks like she’s napping. Does she need sleep? There’s still so much I don’t know about her and these crazy abilities she has. The fact that I can tap into them is absolutely insane and more than a little scary. I mean, I’m not so full of myself to admit that I’m probably the last person who should be allowed to fuck with reality itself.
So Willow is asleep, Summer and Felicia are mad at me for a joke, and…
Wait a second.
Did they not take it as a joke?
Were they actually into each other?
Why does that make me feel things?
Weird, complicated things.
Fucking shit fuck. Ok, well, I could sit here, wallowing in my own boredom or I could fucking do something about this abyssmal situation. I’m the fucking Witch of the Web (I really hope the title catches on), I’m not going to just let things happen to me. I happen to things. People… whatever.
I get to my feet and start looking for Summer. She’ll be the easiest to talk to. I think. I might be a girl now, and possibly have always been one according to some articles I read in the bathroom, but I still don’t get women… other women.
Fuck. Maybe this is a bad idea.
Nope! Not second guessing this.
It doesn’t take me long to find Summer in the kitchen. Somehow she’s gotten her hands on some eggs and is making cookies. Did she use her food magic to take a frozen breakfast meal and revert the eggs to their original goopy state?. That shouldn’t be possible, right? Did Willow help her? Or did she- Oh. Shopping bags. It looks like she went to the corner store down the street. That makes more sense. She was making cookies when I was at her house. Why is she baking at a time like this? Guess there’s only one way to find out!
Quietly as I can, I lean against a counter. I’m going to knock this social interaction out of the park. I’ll be suave and charismatic and - Wait. How’s she going to bake those? This is an old fast food restaurant, would they have an oven?
Shit she’s looking at me now. She looks annoyed. Or is that confusion?
Fuckity fuck fuck. Too many feels! Abort abort! I get up to run when she speaks.
“Is there something I can help you with, Rose?” she asks. Her tone suggests she’s not too mad. Maybe. I pause mid scramble and try to salvage this disaster scenario.
“Well, uh, yeah. I…” I pause as it occurs to me I did not have a plan beyond quietly joining her in the kitchen. Have I always been this bad at people? For example, Summer starts laughing and I have no idea why.
“You can relax, I’m not that upset,” she offers, making a fair assumption about what I’m trying to accomplish. I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth though, so I don’t press the matter. Instead, I get settled and ask the really important questions.
“So, uh, how and why are you baking?” I guess I can give myself points for brevity. Damn I suck at this. Not as much as I thought though, as Summer makes this heavenly sound. I’m so caught up in how beautiful it is, it takes me a few seconds to realize she’s giggling. Was my question that funny?
“The how is a little more straightforward,” she begins as she sets down a tray of raw cookie dough. “I’m essentially going to put together a makeshift dutch oven and bake them in that.” She goes silent for a few moments as she puts together said cooking apparatus.
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“And the why?” I encourage her to continue. She smiles warmly at me. And I do mean that literally. Her smile makes me feel all warm inside and it’s a little concerning. I should ask Willow if there’s something going on with me.
“The short version is that baking relaxes me when I’m stressed. It’s why I was baking when Felicia showed up at my apartment,” she explains.
“What’s the long version?” I ask quietly.
“Baking was a family activity when I was growing up. Anytime someone was upset or overwhelmed, Mom, Dad and I would bake a huge tray of cookies and share them together. By the time we were done, all the strain and worry would fade away. So even though I live alone, I still do it to deal with my own issues.”
Her story makes me realize something, and it’s not something I really want to confront. “I - I didn’t know that,” I sigh. “Hell, I don’t think I even know your parents’ names,” I admit. “I was a shitty friend, wasn’t I?” Summer sets the homemade dutch oven on one of the working burners and moves closer to me.
“Maybe. My parents seemed to think you’d wind up getting me in trouble,” she says with an amused chuckle. “Guess they were right after all.”
Fuck. Now I feel really shitty.
“Why’d you still hang out with me then? I wasn’t exactly the most attentive person. And with your parents not liking me, you’d think that’d discourage you.” I keep doing this. Someone gets close and I convince them to leave. It’s always been safer, but why am I doing it now? I’ve already fucked up Summer’s life, why not enjoy her company while I can?
Because I don’t deserve her.
The thought is sobering and is really the crux of the confusion I have regarding my sunny friend.
Summer’s saying something. I snap my focus back to her like a rubber band.
“You clearly needed friends. And I guess I needed some too. Back then, I was a bit of a loner as well, which is the only reason my folks didn’t outright ban me from spending time with you.” She looks up at the ceiling, her expression, one of careful contemplation.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Summer,” I mutter quietly. She looks over at me and tilts her head.
“What, why?” she asks.
“For getting you dragged into this?” I would’ve thought it’d be obvious. She has the gall to laugh at me.
“Rose, sweetheart. The moment I saw you on my apartment buzzer, I knew you were bringing trouble. I let you up anyways,” she says with a giggle.
“I’m sorry, but what?” Why would anyone willingly put up with my problems?
“Because even if we were never super close, I knew you needed help in more ways than one. I might not have figured it out consciously right away, but I’m pretty sure my transponder picked up your egginess immediately.
The fuck’s a transponder? I mean I know what a transponder is, but what does it have to do with eggs? And why does she have one? Aren’t they used for like, ships and stuff? I repeat my questions out loud to her and watch her start to giggle again. I could really get used to listening to her laugh.
Shit, no, focus. Stop being horny, it’s gross.
“The transponder isn’t an actual physical thing, it’s like… The trans version of gaydar.” Her explanation does not clear a single thing up. “You know what a gaydar is right?” I shake my head. “Oh sweetie, how are you this naive?”
What follows is a lengthy, and fascinating lecture on queer culture. Given that up until recently I’d thought I was a regular, boring ass dude, this was all news to me.
“So wait, let me get this straight. Even though most people just get their voice boxes replaced these days, the phrase ‘Heat from Fire, Fire from Heat’ is still- still what exactly? I don’t get why it’s still important.” I have more questions than answers now, and Summer still seems to have more to share.
“Nowadays it’s used as a sort of code phrase to identify other trans people, and not just women, transfolk in general,” she explains. I still don’t really get it. But we’ve found ourselves on the couch again. Willow’s still sleeping nearby and I try to stay quiet to avoid waking her up.
“Ok, so let me recap. Gaydar is a term for a sense that another person is gay. Transponders are the trans version. Pickles are the official food of trans women and that whole heat/fire thing is like a mating call in nature if the goal is just to make friends with another trans person. Did I miss anything?” I’m sure I did.
“Pretty much everything in between me explaining Transponders and pickles, yes,” she says with a laugh. “But that’s ok, there’s plenty of time to learn about your people, cutie.”
What?
What did she call me?
Cutie?
Fuck my face is on fire.
Shit. Was that a code word to activate a virus?
She’s still talking! What’s she saying?
I can’t make it out because my brain seems to be liquifying.
Oh, her hand is on my shoulder now.
I try to focus on her words and barely make out, “You ok?”
I nod slowly as I find myself lost in her eyes. They’re so beautiful.
Fuck, Summer’s so pretty.
Wait, I’m saying something?
“Gosh you’re pretty.”
Well fuck me I guess.
Oh! She’s blushing! Is that good?
Fuck, what the hell am I doing?
Why are our shoulders touching?
You know what, this is nice. I’m just going to enjoy this for a bit.
****
I awake with a start.
Weird, no dreams about Willow in my tower this time. I glance over at her and she’s still dozing.
How long have I been asleep for?
I glance over at Summer who’s beaming at me.
It’s at this moment I realize her arm is around me.
I scramble out of her reach and stumble over some words before scooting to the opposite end of the couch. She looks a little disheartened and I feel my own heart melt at the sight. Did I do something wrong?
She looks away from me and focuses on Willow. “So, what’s it like? Being connected to your cat?” she asks in an obvious ploy to change the subject. I leap for the lifeline she’s thrown and turn to focus on my familiar as well.
“It’s strange,” I say before working out how I want to explain my bond with Willow. “She’s more than a pet of course. More like an extremely close friend. She’s always in my thoughts and always knows what I’m feeling and thinking. Better than myself even. I’ve been just trying to go with the flow when she suggests something because she’s generally just so much smarter than me.” Smiling fondly at the digital cat, I continue, “I’m honestly so glad Felicia chose me to crack the datadrive. Even for all the trouble, I can’t imagine my life without her.”
Summer looks thoughtful for a moment before scooching closer to me. “She acts a lot like a real cat. But you’re saying she’s smarter?” I’m not surprised she doesn’t get it.
“She’s admitted she just likes her feline form. But I think part of it is that it’s the only one she’s known.” I lean back into the couch cushions and pull my legs up. “According to her, the loggers put hard locks on her to keep her contained. For example, most of her abilities require an active bond to work. There’s also plenty of digital cats in Lanadel, especially after I hacked Cyberpet’s main servers and released the code into the wild.”
“That was you?!” she practically shouts. Willow looks up for a moment before padding away to the bedroom and going back to sleep. She winces as she watches the feline move away. She repeats herself a little more quietly.
“Heh, yeah. I found out that Cyberpet Industries was using their digital companions to spy on people and selling their data to the highest bidder.” I think that was one of my favorite jobs, and I tell Summer as much. “So what I ended up doing was stealing the source app that generated all the animal companions and removing the spyware from the code before smuggling it to an AI contact.”
Not many people knew that it was my actions that led to Lanadel being properly seeded with animals. The AI who made the place were brilliant beyond comparison, but they really didn’t understand people, let alone animals. So all their attempts to make life like animals fell flat. They’d tried to buy Cyberpet’s generation code for a hefty sum, but the corporation wasn’t going to let go of their biggest cash cow. But with Cyberpet’s source app they were able to extrapolate everything from mundane rabbits to lions to the more fantasy oriented creatures they’ve been making lately. And once word got out what Cyberpet was doing, they got shut down hard by the loggers. But only because they needed to save face. I found plenty of things to suggest LOG had their fingers in that pie. Not enough to make anything stick unfortunately.
As I tell the rest of the story, Summer’s eyes grow wider and wider while we draw closer and closer. Soon enough, I can feel her soft exhalations on my cheeks. My face burns again and I realize I’m blushing, but only because I can see the same reaction on her face.
We both look away, but make no effort to move beyond that. “I- uh. I’m sorry,” I venture, unsure what the proper protocol is for this sort of situation.
“Wh- what for?” Summer replies. As if she doesn’t know.
I want to kiss her so bad.
What the hell? Where’d that thought come from? I mean, it’s true. I do want to kiss her. But…
Shit.
Would she want me to? Probably not. I’m not exactly a catch. I mean, my proxy body is. And I’m starting to look like my proxy body.
Am I hot?
I turn to look back at Summer and catch her staring at me.
“Oh, sorry! I- ah!” she stumbles over her words. We’re saved from this awkward moment when a chime goes off from the kitchen area. Summer rushes over to check on her cookies.
Following her over, I perch myself on a counter and watch as she gently extracts each of the cookies and puts them on a cooling tray. “Do you think we can eat them this time?” I ask. She must not have expected me to follow her as she nearly drops the tray in fright. I give her a bashful smile and her face flushes even more red than before.
“Uh… Ah! Yes! Cookies!” she says as she sets down the batch. “Just need to give them a moment to cool,” she explains before trying very hard to seem busy.
I’m so lost at this point, and I think Summer is too. What’s going on between us? I’m sure if Willow was awake, she’d be pointing something out that I’d deny but would be obviously true in hindsight later.
When the kitchen is spotless, and she’s run out of busy work, Summer makes her way over to the couch again with a plate of now cooled off cookies. I eagerly take one and bite into it. The ooey-gooey melted chocolate nearly makes me scream with delight. I’ve never had a cookie like this. Are all homemade cookies this good? Or just Summer’s?
“Hey, you’ve got a bit of chocolate on your face,” Summer says. I blush in embarrassment. Clearly I was so lost in the dessert that I was eating like a toddler.
Before I can get up to clean my face, she reaches over and with her thumb, gently wipes the corner of my face. She pulls her hand back and sucks the chocolate off her finger.
I’m like a deer caught in the headlights.
My brain just empties itself of all thought.
That was the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen someone do.
I think Summer is a little shocked by her actions as well.
“I uh - pretty,“ I so eloquently say. Summer makes another incredibly beautiful noise, but this one sounds more like her brain is short circuiting.
“I mean, yeah, you are,” she agrees.
Wait, no I meant her. “I meant you,” I counter.
“Oh, ah. Well. You’re really cute too,” she whispers bashfully.
Huh.
I don’t know what to say. Usually my problem is I can’t shut up. But now? Nothing. No words to explain what I want to say. Nothing feels appropriate enough to express whatever it is that’s coursing through my mind.
Someone clears their throat from the doorway. My eyes snap over to see Felicia with a bemused look on her face. She’s changed into some significantly more casual clothing. Her swooping neckline on her top and the tight leggings she’s wearing spark another wave of intense broiling emotions that I’m even more confused about.
Am I crushing on both Summer and the fucking logger. What has my life fucking come to? Ever since I first met Felicia, my life has been turned upside down, shaken repeatedly then precariously balanced on a corner before being punted down the road.
While I’m trying and failing to wrap my head around all these wild and conflicting feelings, the damn logger speaks up. She sounds exasperated.
“Would you two just kiss already?”