"We didn't get much sleep last night." I turned down the hall that led to the basement. "Dad had an accident right before we settled down for bed, and the cleanup took hours. I could've used your help." I chuckled, wondering if I had just wasted my breath.

"I'm sorry for the lack of sleep." An inflection of concern came through in Xander's voice. "That explains why you both were sleeping in the middle of the day on a weekday. It's unusual for most families to do so."

Nervous laughter left my lips as he followed me downstairs to the basement. I pointed to his living space, an attached guest suite equipped with a private bathroom and walk-in closet. An addition we added years ago for me to use as I saw fit, but shortly after the accident I moved to the room upstairs to be closer to Dad.

"So here you are." I smiled like a gameshow host presenting a guest with their newly acquired prize. "My conference room is next door, but I won't be a bother. I only use it during school hours mostly and this week is spring break. So, no school." When he didn't respond, I continued, pointing at some random bedroom objects. "Uh, I'm sure most of this stuff you won't use, but I think you deserve your own space anyway."

"You're right, I won't be needing the bed or the bathroom, and I don't own anything worth storing." The way he stared at the closed closet door made me want to open it and assure him it was only storage area.

I pushed the door open. "It's just an empty room. I'm sure Junkard didn't mind staying in here, but I figured with your advancements maybe you'd like a bed to ... rest in."

"Your previous caregiver stayed in the storeroom?" He tilted his head as if curious. "And had preferred it?"

"Well," I shrugged. "I don't know. It never complained, so... Plus, my dad refused to let it touch the bed or even enter any of the bathrooms especially after he started to develop sores."

"Because of the caregiver's skin?"

"Well, yeah." I nodded. "Dad was convinced it was making him sick, so he didn't want it spreading irritants around. Anyway, that thing was a piece of junk. It didn't look or act much different than one of those ancient vacuum cleaners people use to store in their closets. In fact, I ended up doing most of the work."

"James wouldn't mind if I utilized this room?" A valid question.

"I mean..." I shrugged. "Can you keep a secret?"

He grinned, mirroring my expression, showcasing shallow laugh lines at the corner of his lips. "If you instruct me not to speak of an activity, I will not."

"Just say, 'Sure'," I encouraged.

His smile widened. "Sure."

"Then the room is yours," I said. "He'll never know. I won't tell if you don't."

He stared, blinking and smiling his only reaction. "It's time for me to begin my duties. I will check in with you once I've completed them." He walked by, gracefully angling his body to avoid colliding into me. Something Junkard never considered. When Xander left the room, I sat on the bed to contemplate what I had just experienced.

Even though it felt weird, Xander seemed more human than the Colife ads made them look. If it weren't for his exposed circuitry on the nape of his neck and him removing a piece of his skin, I wouldn't have believed his insides were electronic parts and steel.

I sighed, a reaction to the isolation of the space.

The lonely silence of the room urged me to want to pull a window curtain aside and glance outdoors. But I sat instead, remembering the room had no windows and realizing a glimpse outside wouldn't present anything new. Arizona hadn't changed in the past decade. The only change had been what passed along in its dry, desert air. I pictured the desolate city streets with the occasional domestic droid marked by their exposed circuitry or unmasked faces, rambling along the isolated sidewalks, completing various tasks.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, cradling the thin translucent material between my fingers. I opened the group text labeled "Misfits" and sent a message to Austin Rodriguez and Rima Spencer.

"The new model looks amazing."

Seconds passed before Austin answered. "I guess your dad won't be throwing a fit then?"

"I'm serious," I replied. "He's gorgeous. Not just the skin either."

Rima finally chimed in. "Pic?"

"Vid?" Austin requested.

"I'm not taking a video of him." I scoffed, glancing at the open door. "Trying to turn me into a creep?"

"Too late for that, isn't it?" Austin texted back. I imagined his gravelly voice that didn't match his thin frame with every word. "You've already peeked at his junk. I'm sure."

"He's a domestic droid. Not a pleasure bot."

Rima's texted butted in. "I'm sure you could've fought for a droid with a big one if your lawyer didn't suck. Lord knows the only way you could afford it is through a lawsuit settlement."

I rolled my eyes. "What is this? Is this bag on Leo hour?"

Rima's only responds, "Pic?"

"I want to see it in action. Snag a vid," Austin insisted.

"I'm not recording him," I stood firm.

"Come on," Rima said, and I couldn't help but picture her rolling her eyes and shaking her thick curls with an over-exaggerated neck roll she often did to induce laughs. "You can't objectify an object. I'm sure it doesn't mind."

I squint my eyes at the door, wondering if he would. "No. But I'll send a pic though."

I made my way toward the kitchen where the cabinets squeaked on their hinges as they were being opened and closed. The sound of a busy droid. When I turned the corner, Xander stood at the kitchen counter, cutting melons into cubes and placing them in a bowl.

I glanced at the time. He must've been prepping for Dad's evening snack. The black suit he wore fit him like a glove and did nothing to prevent me from staring. So, without much thought, I raised my phone and snapped a picture.

His knife skills were impressive, but then again, weren't androids made to be fast, accurate and efficient?

I glanced at the picture and wasn't satisfied that the black suit covered the best aspect of him. If they were to be convinced how amazing this new android was, they'd have to get a look at his face.

I raised the phone, waiting for the perfect angle, even his profile would be enough.

Xander turned without warning and startled me. I yelped and the large blade he held slipped from his grip and impaled the top of his foot.

"Shit!" I rush forward. "Are you alright?" I stared from the knife sticking upright from the top of his foot to his nonchalant facial expression. "You're... ok..."

I half expected him to react with a grimace of pain, a look of disappointment or sheepish embarrassment. Something. He only bent to remove the knife. He wiped the blade with a kitchen towel before placing it on the cutting board.

"Please don't worry. I've submitted an incident report to Colife," he said with a pleasant smile. "They will repair any damages free of charge upon returning me to their branch for maintenance."

I stared at the cut fabric of his shoes and the hole in the center. He didn't short circuit or spontaneously combust, so I assumed he'd be alright. "You're just gonna keep cooking, or...?"

"Yes." He cocked his head to the side, and my self-consciousness rose to the surface.

"Great!" I turned and exited the space, leaving the whacking sounds of knife hitting cutting board behind me. The privacy of the hallway enveloped me, building my courage to send the picture to Austin and Rima.

Xander's button nose resembled mine and the photograph brought attention to his facial symmetry and angular jawline. The color and texture of his hair resembled mine, although my waves differed from his bone straight strands.

"Whoa," Austin responded. "Are you shitting me? That's the droid?"

"Who else would it be?" My fingers rapidly spelled out the words. "It's not like anyone's showing up at my door."

"You act like people don't break laws, especially one telling them to stay at home."

"You act like I'm one of those people." I scoffed to my phone. "That's him. That's Xander."

Rima's message popped up. "You named him that, huh? Your dad would've called him Scrappy or Rustbucket or something."

"Did you not see the pic?" Austin added. "I didn't see any rust or scraps on the thing. It really looks like those Colife ads and now I want one!"

I shook my head and pocketed the phone.

Of course, everyone wanted one of the newest Colife droids. They're made to be knowledgeable, helpful, and humanlike. However, witnessing Xander's casual reaction after a sharp blade impaled the top of his foot unnerved me.

He seemed human in other ways, but obviously there was a critical element missing. Maybe Colife programmed their domestic droids to not respond to pain or physical sensations on purpose, to remind us that we were interacting with a humanoid bot and not a real person.

But what if I could change that?

~~~

What's running through your mind?