couldn’t imagine Jacko wanting to abandon his excellent job and his life here to follow her into exile.
Runner: Double sigh. No.
Felicity: Take a lock of his hair with you. For memory’s sake. And maybe I can clone him from the DNA. Make sure to get follicles.
Lauren laughed and wiped away a tear. Felicity probably
could
clone him. All this time she’d imagined Felicity as some super analyst somewhere but maybe she was a lab rat in a white coat who could pipette a new Jacko into life. Of course Lauren would have to wait for Jacko to be born and grow up and she’d be sixty when he was thirty. That would totally work for Doctor Who but not for her.
Runner: Can’t. Shaved head.
Felicity. Yum. Tats?
Runner: Tribal. Shoulder. Barbed wire around wrists. V sexy.
Felicity: Take some pubes with you. That guy definitely needs cloning.
Runner: I wish.
Felicity: Get going. Like I said, if you have to go, do it fast. When you land, get in touch. I’ll be here.
Runner: On my way. And thanks.
Felicity: np
Their chat page blinked out. Lauren powered down her MacBook Air, resting a hand on the cover, fingers caressing the smooth Apple logo. It felt, for just a moment, as if she were still connected to her virtual friend. It was crazy but she could feel Felicity’s support coming over the ether. Pixels and digits and friendship. She knew nothing about Felicity except for the important things. Felicity was smart, she had secrets too, and she was on Lauren’s side, always.
At least Lauren could plug back into the chat room when she finally landed. Jacko and her friends here were already in the wind, lost. This virtual friend on a secret network was the only constant in her life now.
God, it was already nine and she hadn’t packed yet.
Good thing her wardrobe was deliberately small. Good pieces, but not many of them. Everything she owned fit into a midsized suitcase. She wheeled it out to the garage and went back in for her artwork. Her artwork could possibly be used to track her down if any of Jorge’s people searched her house so everything she had went into the car. All her computer-generated graphic work was stored in the cloud under a fictitious name.
By ten she was ready to walk through the house for the last time, hand lingering over various items, as if touching them would store them better in her memory. The house was so pretty. She’d fallen in love with it immediately. Basically, a living room/kitchen, bedroom and a huge room with a skylight where she worked. More than enough. Snug and cheerful. The place where she’d hoped to make a life for herself, and damn it, she
had
. She’d made a wonderful life for herself.
Lauren angrily wiped a tear away. She never cried, never allowed herself to, and this morning she was leaking water like a faucet.
At the door to her bedroom she stopped. This was the last time she’d see where she’d made love with Jacko. It had been the best thing to happen to her since her mother and stepfather had died and this whole mess started.
She looked at the bed across the room, reliving some of the highlights of last night. Maybe the memory of last night would fade, as memories did over the years. Right now, though, the memory was vivid, hi-def, 3D.
Never again. Never again a mind-blowing love affair. Never again would she have friends in the flesh. Never again warmth and closeness with others.
Goodbye house.
Goodbye life.
Goodbye Jacko.
It had started snowing again, light flakes that drifted down like afterthoughts, the world outside light gray, nebulous. Pretty. Dangerous. She wasn’t a good driver. Driving in the snow was terrifying, one more horror.
South. She’d head south. Maybe somewhere with a beach. San Diego would be perfect but it was still West Coast. Maybe it was best not to repeat herself. Florida was out, of course. Texas, Louisiana? Time enough on the road to decide.
Lights out, heat off.
She shivered in the garage, cold seeping into her bones. The car
Runner: Double sigh. No.
Felicity: Take a lock of his hair with you. For memory’s sake. And maybe I can clone him from the DNA. Make sure to get follicles.
Lauren laughed and wiped away a tear. Felicity probably
could
clone him. All this time she’d imagined Felicity as some super analyst somewhere but maybe she was a lab rat in a white coat who could pipette a new Jacko into life. Of course Lauren would have to wait for Jacko to be born and grow up and she’d be sixty when he was thirty. That would totally work for Doctor Who but not for her.
Runner: Can’t. Shaved head.
Felicity. Yum. Tats?
Runner: Tribal. Shoulder. Barbed wire around wrists. V sexy.
Felicity: Take some pubes with you. That guy definitely needs cloning.
Runner: I wish.
Felicity: Get going. Like I said, if you have to go, do it fast. When you land, get in touch. I’ll be here.
Runner: On my way. And thanks.
Felicity: np
Their chat page blinked out. Lauren powered down her MacBook Air, resting a hand on the cover, fingers caressing the smooth Apple logo. It felt, for just a moment, as if she were still connected to her virtual friend. It was crazy but she could feel Felicity’s support coming over the ether. Pixels and digits and friendship. She knew nothing about Felicity except for the important things. Felicity was smart, she had secrets too, and she was on Lauren’s side, always.
At least Lauren could plug back into the chat room when she finally landed. Jacko and her friends here were already in the wind, lost. This virtual friend on a secret network was the only constant in her life now.
God, it was already nine and she hadn’t packed yet.
Good thing her wardrobe was deliberately small. Good pieces, but not many of them. Everything she owned fit into a midsized suitcase. She wheeled it out to the garage and went back in for her artwork. Her artwork could possibly be used to track her down if any of Jorge’s people searched her house so everything she had went into the car. All her computer-generated graphic work was stored in the cloud under a fictitious name.
By ten she was ready to walk through the house for the last time, hand lingering over various items, as if touching them would store them better in her memory. The house was so pretty. She’d fallen in love with it immediately. Basically, a living room/kitchen, bedroom and a huge room with a skylight where she worked. More than enough. Snug and cheerful. The place where she’d hoped to make a life for herself, and damn it, she
had
. She’d made a wonderful life for herself.
Lauren angrily wiped a tear away. She never cried, never allowed herself to, and this morning she was leaking water like a faucet.
At the door to her bedroom she stopped. This was the last time she’d see where she’d made love with Jacko. It had been the best thing to happen to her since her mother and stepfather had died and this whole mess started.
She looked at the bed across the room, reliving some of the highlights of last night. Maybe the memory of last night would fade, as memories did over the years. Right now, though, the memory was vivid, hi-def, 3D.
Never again. Never again a mind-blowing love affair. Never again would she have friends in the flesh. Never again warmth and closeness with others.
Goodbye house.
Goodbye life.
Goodbye Jacko.
It had started snowing again, light flakes that drifted down like afterthoughts, the world outside light gray, nebulous. Pretty. Dangerous. She wasn’t a good driver. Driving in the snow was terrifying, one more horror.
South. She’d head south. Maybe somewhere with a beach. San Diego would be perfect but it was still West Coast. Maybe it was best not to repeat herself. Florida was out, of course. Texas, Louisiana? Time enough on the road to decide.
Lights out, heat off.
She shivered in the garage, cold seeping into her bones. The car
Similar Books
