"I'm gonna call it PAL."
"Please do not call it PAL."
"I'm so gonna call it PAL."
*****
It started as a simple experiment.
*****
Gwendolyn, a dreamy-eyed engineering student, is chosen to be apart of a special program in the most high class com...
CHAPTER FOUR | making plans like the organized people we are
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RANDOM SONG OF THE CHAPTER:
Take On Me - a-ha
*****
"I see a dog, I pet the dog- that's the routine here."
*****
I relished that satisfying bang the notebook made when I slammed it against the tabletop. Whoever Zane was eating with almost hit the ceiling when he violently flinched from the noise. The freckle-faced boy gave me a look as he clutched his pudding container to his chest.
"Hey!" The boy said indignantly.
I wasn't that bothered by him, in a competition of height I would totally win. Heels or no heels. Not that I ever wear heels. They're like twig stilts just begging you to break your ankle on them. Zane glanced up, icy blue gaze curiously flicking to the book pinned beneath my hand in front of him. His illusion was so realistic that if I hadn't seen the titanium all over him the previous day I wouldn't have known he was an android.
"Can I help you?" He asked politely.
"Yes," I said solemnly. I raised the flower-covered book before him. "This is my dream journal. Now you have to write one too."
I placed it back down and slid it across the table to him. I ignored the interns around us that were slowly leaving the table. The freckled boy remained, eyes bouncing between me and Zane.
Zane raised an eyebrow, taking the book and examining it closely. "Why?"
"Because diaries are cliché," I said like it was obvious. I slid into a chair across from them, snagging a fry from the other boy's plate, much to his complaint.
"I've had this same journal since I was eleven. It was where I wrote all my hopes, dreams, goals- all that stuff. It allowed me to figure stuff out about myself and will allow me to learn more about you." I explained.
Zane still looked quizzical, he took the journal and opened it to the first page. His head tilting in confusion as he read the first line. "You wanted a purple motorbike."
Oh right. I forgot that was in there.
"And..." his brow furrowed. "You dreamed of marrying someone named Zuko?"
Sheirjsgjebfj.
"Ho-kay, that's enough of eleven-year-old-me." I grabbed it from his hands and shoved it back in my bag.
