Unplugged by Donna Freitas

dress would look like. Ihoped the App would choose what would work best for my virtual self.
    I reached out and touched it.
    The download initiated. I closed my eyes as the App seeped into my code. A slow chill began to work its way through me, starting with the finger I used to touch the icon, then spreading to my forearm and my elbow and up to my shoulder, across my collarbone to my other arm and onward down my torso to my feet.
    So the dress would be long.
    My body tingled with what felt like tiny flecks of ice.
    Unlike last night, this time, the cold was pleasant.
    The bonding process began and the chill dissipated. As the download knit itself into my code, my virtual self started to heat up, like the dress was being welded to me. I’d always enjoyed this part. There was something wonderful about all that warmth. It made me feel safe. At least while it lasted.
    Finally, it dealt with my hair. There was tugging and smoothing.
    This part of an Appearance App I’d always loathed.
    Abruptly, the download stopped.
    I opened my eyes and called up my self-image.
    The mirror hologram showed a version of me that looked uncomfortable. But this Skye didn’t look horrible. The gown Mrs. Sachs chose was steel-blue silk. It was long and plain, with just a slight tuck to define my waist. Thetop was strapless, a straight line across my chest. My hair was pulled away from my face into a high knot at the back of my head. Simple blue shoes peeked out from under the hem. I lifted my foot to better see them. They were flat.
    For some reason this detail made me want to cry.
    A sad smile appeared on the hologram Skye’s face.
    Mrs. Sachs knew me well.
    Are you ready? Inara chatted. We’re almost to your corner.
    Be there in a minute.
    I took one last look before swiping my hand across the mirror hologram. The other Skye disappeared.
    On my way out of the building, I ran into Adam. He wore the standard-issue black pants and black T-shirt of Singles on a day off from school. His eyes traveled from my bare shoulders to my feet. Then he scowled. “You’re going to the funeral like that ?”
    I crossed my arms over my chest. I didn’t like the way Adam was staring. “The dress was a gift from the people who invited me.”
    â€œA funeral isn’t a party, Skye,” he said, using the very same words I’d spoken to Jenna.
    Shame burned across my skin. “I know, Adam,” I said, already turning to go. “I never said it was.”
    Inara absently twirled her long necklace of pearls around her finger as the Sachses and I neared the clearingin the park. She’d downloaded a tank dress of light green taffeta that reached her feet. It resembled mine enough that it reminded me of those times when we were small and would download the Twinning App every chance we got. I linked my arm through hers as she gaped at the elaborate building looming ahead of us.
    â€œIt’s beautiful,” she said.
    Mrs. Sachs joined us, staring up at the massive church, coded especially for the occasion. “I heard it was designed to be a composite of famous places of worship in the Real World.”
    Gothic towers pointed toward the sunny sky. Arches jutted out from the stone walls like giant spider’s legs. Gargoyles glared at imaginary enemies, their mouths wide, tongues lolling. A great round window of colored glass sparkled high above the doors. Statues of various members of the government stared out from either side of the entrance, the one of Marcus Holt, the inventor of the first plug, taller than all the others. Eleanor Holt, his wife, and the Original Architect of the City, stood next to him, carved in stone. Rain’s grandparents. Eleanor and Marcus Holt were already elderly when they’d plugged in, their bodies old and infirm and unsustainable. They only managed to live here during the first few years of the App World’s existence. The last important funeral in this City was