Mechanical

by Pauline C. Harris

  “Get a bandage,” she retorted and walked past me out the door.

  I shook my head at the damage and headed for the bathroom. Once there, I hurriedly pulled out some medical tape and clumsily stuck it on my arm to cover the wires. I healed incredibly fast and knew it would be gone by the next day, but anyone who saw my wound today would end up like the school nurse.

  I hurried after Yvonne and got into the van. She gave me a strange look once I climbed in. “Looks a little drastic, don’t you think?” she asked, surveying the bandage that covered six inches along my arm.

  “Hey, it’s your fault. You’re the one who caused me to scrape myself. There’s a bunch of wires and stuff there.”

  Yvonne sighed irritably and ignored me the rest of the way.

  Once I got to school, as Yvonne had predicted during the drive, I got quite a few comments on my medical predicament. I just told them I scraped myself, but according to them, if you needed a bandage that large it had to be because of something worse.

  “What’d you do?” Michael asked when he saw me in English class.

  “Scraped myself on my dresser this morning,” I said for the seventh time that day.

  “Ouch,” Michael commented and Miss Clark had to call on him to be quiet.

  After school as I was standing by my locker collecting all my things, Michael walked up to me. I gave him a special smile and said hello.

  He shuffled his feet and stared down at them for a few seconds, brushing his jacket to rid it of lint that wasn’t there. I gave him a puzzled look. He seemed nervous about something. He had his hands clasped behind his back, something I had never seen him do, and he looked tense. “Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head. “No.” He smiled. “I just wanted ...” he trailed off and I saw his gaze wander downward again.

  I frowned, wondering what he could possibly be looking at that would cause him to stop talking. A breeze blew through the hallway and I felt it on my arm. At first, I thought nothing of it, but then my heart started to beat faster and I froze. Then my gaze landed on the arm that was supposed to be covered with the bandage.

  I slowly looked down, terrified of what I might see. Sure enough, the bandage had mostly fallen off, hanging on only at the edge of my elbow, exposing just enough metal and wires to scare the living daylights out of any student who happened to wander by. And just my luck, Michael happened to be that student.

  I quickly pulled my long sleeved sweater down over my arm, thinking frantically for some excuse to explain my predicament. Not only was this incredibly embarrassing, but what would the creators do if they knew that some kid at my school had seen this? The same thing they had done with the nurse? I didn’t even know what they had done to her.

  Michael’s gaze shifted upwards to meet mine. “What was that?” he asked quietly.

  “Nothing,” I said with a fake smile, hoping that possibly he hadn’t seen everything.

  “That looked a lot like metal and wires in your ... arm,” he said, his face turning white.

  “Um ...” I mumbled, starting to panic. “I have to go. It was nothing really, just your imagination,” I said quickly, turning away.

  I felt Michael grab my arm gently, but firmly enough to keep me there. Of course, I knew I was strong enough to probably yank my arm away and shove him against the lockers with one hand, but I didn’t really feel like showing off my true identity any more than I accidentally already had.

  “That wasn’t nothing,” Michael said, his tone giving away how freaked out he really was. His voice shook slightly where it was usually smooth with confidence.

  I stood there for a moment, frozen. Finally, I sighed and gave up, thinking quickly for some plan to get him off my back. Michael let go of my arm.

  “I’ll tell you, but not here,” I whispered so softly it was a wonder that Michael heard me. I beckoned for him to follow me and headed outside. I walked over to one of the empty picnic benches and sat down. Michael took a seat across from me. We sat there for a few moments in awkward silence. I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “I don’t really know how to start this ...” I said, thinking frantically for some excuse.

  “Well, what did I see?” he asked with concern.

  “Exactly what you thought it was, metal and wires.” I barely whispered the last part but I knew he’d heard it. Had I really just admitted to him what the creators forbade us to ever utter? What was wrong with me?

  Michael seemed lost for words. “Why?” he asked finally.

  “Because ...” My heart seemed as if it would jump out of my chest it was beating so fast. How was I supposed to tell him this? “I’m ...” Not human. The words sprang to my mind, repeating over and over again so loudly it seemed as if Michael could probably hear them.

  “Is it some medical thing?” he asked, his tone shifting slowly back to normal at this new idea. “Like, some implant you needed? I mean, that’s totally fine. You shouldn’t feel ashamed of it or anything,” he said gently.

  My heart leapt. Yes! I could just go along with that. After all, he said it, not I. It would be perfect. But then, my heart sank again as my mind wrapped around this idea and shoved it away. I couldn’t lie to Michael. I didn’t want to lie to Michael. “No,” I heard myself saying even while the logical part of my mind screamed. “It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  There was a long pause. I was so scared I felt I might die. The words were on the tip of my tongue, held back by the last part of me that was logical, by the last part that still told me to regain my sense.

  But the new Drew, the rebellious one, the brave one, forced open my mouth and the words sprang to life.

  “I’m not ... human,” I finally said, staring at the table, not wanting to see Michael’s face.

  “What?” I heard him ask after a tense pause.

  “I’m an android,” I told him, finding the courage to lift my head to look at him. This was what I was; something wonderful to the creators, but something unknown to the humans, and there was nothing I could do to change it. “That’s why you saw all those wires.”

  Michael looked speechless, staring at me with a mixture of shock, disbelief and ... horror.

  “I’m mechanical,” I whispered. And that’s when the tears came.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  And just like that, I was sobbing. Uncontrollably crying—something that was very embarrassing to do in front Michael, or anyone for that matter.

  I buried my head in my hands and knew it was no good to try and stop. I had already started and there was no going back. A million emotions whirled inside of me, anger, fear, frustration, too many to identify and I knew they were all unacceptable for an android—forbidden. But this thought only made them scream louder as if trying to justify their presence.

  Suddenly I felt a weight on the seat beside me and arms wrap around me. I rested my head against Michael’s shoulder and cried, too distraught to feel embarrassed. I hoped no one was walking by or could see me from the parking lot. Picturing this image in my head, I realized I probably looked either very pathetic or as if I was trying to steal time alone with Michael, which I most certainly was not. Maybe in the distant future, but not now.

  Eventually I pulled away from Michael and wiped my eyes, not wanting to look at him, not wanting him to see my eyes all red and blurry from crying. “Please don’t tell anyone,” I said, my voice watery and strange sounding. Just as the words came out, I regretted them. My voice sounded pleading and desperate, but what else could I say?

  He shook his head, although I noticed that he now stared at me with a cautious look in his eyes, like I was a wild animal. “I won’t,” he assured me. His voice was soft, scared.

  “Thanks,” I said, trying to rub the water out of my eyes.

  Michael stood up and paced around the table a few times, running his fingers through his hair. He sat back down again. “Sorry, I’m just a little ... I mean ...how is that even possible?” he asked, turni
ng towards me, suspicion in his voice. Now that I thought about it, he probably didn’t even believe me. Or at least, was trying to find some plausible way to explain this.

  I’m living proof, I almost said aloud, but then thought twice. Living? Hadn’t the creators told us that we weren’t really alive? Mechanical things didn’t live. I may have been proof, but I wasn’t living proof. I didn’t reply.

  “I’m sorry,” Michael said. “That was probably rude.” He ran his fingers through his hair again. He looked scared but also slightly suspicious, like I had changed in the last few minutes from a normal girl into something completely different and unpredictable—a machine.

  I shook my head. “No. You’re nicer to me than the creators are.” The realization of what I had just said hit me like a slap in the face and I immediately shut up.

  He looked at me, his eyes growing wider. “Creators?”

  I regretted my words. “The term pretty much explains itself,” I said quietly, not wanting to be the cause of more spilled information.

  “So they ... created you?”

  I didn’t reply, but looked away.

  Just then, I heard a car horn sound and I looked up to see the van parked on the side of the street. I looked at Michael, hoping with all my might that he wouldn’t tell anyone about what happened. Not so much for my safety, but for his. The nurse’s face flashed through my mind. “I have to go.”

  “I won’t tell,” he said again, as if reading my mind.

  I half-smiled, although this time I was acutely aware of how I might be perceived by him now. I wasn't the same girl he'd had a crush on a few minutes before, but possibly something different—a robot, a computer, a machine. “See you tomorrow.” I headed towards the van and climbed in, the images of our humiliating little scene only moments before replaying in my head like a broken record.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I tried to avoid Michael the next day at school. I was embarrassed and mostly afraid of what he might say or do. So many times the day before I had asked myself if it had actually happened at all. But when I remembered the look on Michael’s face, I knew it was true. The horror in his eyes burned in my memory, leaving a permanent image.

  But as hard as I tried to evade him, eventually Michael caught up to me. “Drew,” he leaned over and whispered during English class. “I’ve been trying to find you all day.”

  “Sorry,” I whispered back. “I wasn’t sure ... you would want to see me.”

  There was a long pause.

  I glanced back at him and he looked almost hurt. “Why wouldn’t I want to see you?”

  I didn’t reply and there was a moment of silence between us where all I heard was the drone of Miss Clark’s voice up front.

  “Did you tell anyone?” I whispered, my heart racing as if knowing that my life, his life, was hanging by a thread.

  “Of course not,” he replied. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  Just then, I noticed Miss Clark’s glaring eyes staring right at me. “Drew? Michael?” she snapped. “Would you mind sharing with the class the issue you are discussing that seems to be more important than my lesson? I’m oh, so eager to hear.”

  “We were just talking about an assignment for another class.” Michael said, feigning a sorry expression, the lie coming quickly and easily off his tongue.

  Miss Clark gave him a steely look. “You can talk about that later, but now you are in English class and I’m asking you to give me your attention.”

  * * * *

  “Are you okay?” Michael asked as we were leaving the classroom.

  “Yeah, I’m fine but I wasn’t the one who told his friend I was ...” I didn’t want to finish the sentence. It felt so different saying it aloud, especially to someone who wasn’t an android.

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t the one crying yesterday,” Michael put his hands on my shoulders, although I noticed that they were barely placed there, as if I might break like any other electronic device. Again, I wondered what he now thought of me.

  “Are you okay?” he repeated.

  I nodded.

  “Good.” He smiled at me.

  “I’ll see you later,” I told him, turning away and heading towards my locker.

  “See ya.”

  I walked down the hallway, truly surprised he had even wanted to talk to me. I mean, I was expecting complete shock and disgust from him. After all, I had just told him I wasn’t human. Didn’t that mean something?

  I shook my head. I was starting to get a headache from thinking so hard; trying to figure out why Michael still liked me. I didn’t know. The only thing I did know was that he did. He had talked to me, smiled at me, and asked if I was okay. I smiled to myself. I didn’t know what was going to happen, and at that moment I didn’t care about what I was. All I knew was that I liked Michael. I liked him a lot now. And he liked me back.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jessica and I sat next to Hailey in the cafeteria, squeezing our legs through the almost nonexistent space between the seats and the table. I felt like a contortionist every time I tried to sit down.

  By now, I was used to eating and actually enjoyed it. I found that when I ate I felt more energized and I liked the taste of food, something Yvonne found quite distasteful.

  “So,” Hailey said, propping her elbows on the table and looking at me. “I heard that you and Michael had some alone time yesterday after school out by the picnic benches.” She smiled, drawing out the word alone as if it explained her whole point.

  I sighed internally. Of course. “We weren’t ... doing anything,” I protested.

  Hailey rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

  “No really,” I laughed. “We were just talking.”

  Hailey gave me a look like she didn’t believe me and then started eating. I noticed Jessica hadn’t said much, when usually she was the one doing most of the talking. I looked over at her and saw her staring down at her plate.

  “Is something wrong?”

  She looked up, apparently just now realizing we were both staring at her. “Oh, no,” she said quickly with a smile. “Just a little tired.”

  For the rest of the lunch hour we sat together talking about the usual stuff like assignments, gossip, and Hailey’s numerous crushes. Eventually, Hailey stood up to go to the bathroom and Jessica watched her walk away as though she had been waiting for her departure.

  “Drew,” she leaned over and said to me. “I didn’t want to tell you this in front of Hailey. She’s like the gossip queen around here and if she heard it would be all over the school in a second.”

  “What is it?” I asked concernedly, thinking that maybe something had happened with Jessica.

  Jessica’s expression turned to one of sorrow and pity. For me? I was confused. “I can tell you really like Michael ...” she began.

  Where was this going?

  “But I think you deserve to know.” Her gaze shifted down to look at the table.

  “What ...?” I asked, now a little scared.

  “Well, I don’t know why he would do this after he’s led you on and all. Ugh, I am so angry with him right now. Boys are worthless, every single one of them. I mean, seriously, couldn't they just be a little more mature?”

  “Jessica, what happened?” I urged, my heart starting to beat faster against my metallic ribcage in what I assumed to be some imitation of human anxiety.

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “I saw him with someone else. He kissed her.”

  Suddenly, I felt as if my heart had stopped beating. The wires, screws, timers and whatever else was in there had all instantly come to a halt. Michael? Kiss someone else?

  Why? I thought numbly. The cafeteria around me seemed to blur together and the sound turned to a massive hum. I was so confused. Why would this happen?

  “...black-haired girl, really tall...” I barely heard Jessica say above my whirring thoughts.

  I stilled, focusing on what she said. �
��Tall?” I asked. A tall, black-haired girl?

  “Yeah, even taller than you. She was almost taller than Michael and they did not look good together,” Jessica said, in an attempt to make me feel better.

  “Was her hair short?” I was afraid to ask, but I did anyway.

  Jessica nodded and gestured with her hands to where the girl’s hair had fallen around her face. It was the right length. “She was gorgeous, wasn’t she?”

  Jessica paused.

  “Was she?” I asked again.

  She slowly nodded.

  I felt as if I had just been slapped across the face. It was bad enough to have Michael go off with some other girl, but did it have to be her? Why her? I felt like screaming. Why would she do this?

  Because she was Yvonne. I felt as if someone had driven a knife through my soul.

  If I even had one.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Throughout the day my sorrow and self-pity eventually turned to anger and by the end of the day, I was furious. Not so much with Michael, although it did take two, but mostly with Yvonne. She knew that I liked Michael. A lot. And she had deliberately stolen him. Whether or not she planned for me to find out (probably not), it was unfair and so ... like her. Why was I even surprised? Michael was a challenge for Yvonne – something that was supposedly mine and something she was determined to make her own.

  I stormed into our room once David drove me back to the Institution. Yvonne was sitting on her bed reading a magazine with a picture of a beautiful girl with soft brown hair adorning the cover. It didn’t help my mood to notice that Yvonne was at least twice as pretty.

  “How could you do this?” I nearly screamed at her.

  Yvonne didn’t look the least bit concerned, or even surprised, which made me just that much madder. She calmly studied me.

  “How?” I cried again.

  “What are you talking about?” Yvonne asked, her expression telling me she knew exactly what.