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lived here, he doesn’t show it.
    “So, um. I was wondering if I could borrow a
couple bucks. We’re going to lunch at the Matchlight.”
    He pours himself a cup of coffee from the
Automaker, saying nothing, just hmm’ing to himself. He pushes a
kitchen chair out with his foot and sits down, the news tablet on
the table in front of him. He sets down the coffee mug and sits,
tapping the screen to flip through the paper.
    I wait five minutes. By the time I decide to
say something, my lip is raw on the inside from my gnawing.
“So…?”
    “I suppose I can lend you a five.”
    Five won’t get me lunch and a drink, but I
force a smile anyways. Tightwad. “Thanks, Mr. Rockwell,” I say as
he fishes out a stained bill from his billfold and hands it to me.
I stuff it in my pocket and take a step back. He seems to think
about it for a moment, then digs in his wallet and hands me a
fifty.
    I blink at it, surprised, until he says, “Be
back by three. You need to go out and get groceries.”
    Why can’t you do it? But I say
nothing. I just nod. “Okay. Bye.” My nails press little crescent
moons into my palms I’m clenching them so hard. I shut the door
softly despite needing to slam it. He thinks he can own me. I know
my face is set in a scowling snarl, but I don’t care. I know what I
need, though.
    Even though it’ll take me directly away from
Matchlight, I head toward the school. I just need to run my hands
through his fur, butt my head against his, and scratch behind his
ears. I just… It’s stupid. He’s not some pet I can fondle, but I’ve
come to rely on him. I know he’ll be able to calm me down, with his
ever-wagging tail and doggy grin.
    I get to the edge of the alley. “Freak?” I
really should give him a name, something that fits him, but I feel
stupid. I’ll never own him—he’s an Unseelie creature, not of this
realm. The Fae would probably have a hissy fit if they knew he was
play-acting as a happy Labrador or something.
    I peer into the shadows, straining my ears
for the click of his claws. I hear nothing except the whoosh of
cars zipping by, blowing my hair away from my face. I stand there
for a few moments, staring into the empty alley, before giving up.
Maybe he’s patrolling the city, or whatever it is that cyberhounds
do.
    Matchlight Diner has been around for years, a
booming family business that started in a tiny little corner of the
city. Now it’s huge, right on Main Street. The menu and daily
specials flash on the large electronic billboard positioned
perfectly where people in their cars can see it. Looks like they’re
having turkey manhattans with a salad bar half off today. Guess
what I’m getting?
    I shoulder through the door and bells chime
out, announcing my presence. Caddie is sitting in a corner booth,
elbows on the table, stirring the straw around in a glass of
lemonade. She perks up as she sees me.
    “Hey!” she all but shouts, waving me over. I
duck my head and slide in across from her.
    “You’re early,” I say, looking at the clock.
But then again, so am I. “I figured I’d have to wait a little while
for you to get here.”
    “Nah. Early bird gets the worm. Or in this
case, the lemonade.” She sips and makes a face. “Needs sugar.” She
opens two little packets and dumps them in, and the sugar makes a
white mound on top of the ice before slowly disintegrating. She
stirs it and grins up at me. “So what’s up, blue jay?”
    “What’s with the nickname?”
    “I call everyone chickadee, but…well, with
that hair color, you look like a jay.”
    “Aren’t they loud mouthed, opinionated little
bastards?”
    “Are you denying it?” Her eyes gleam as she
jokes like we’ve been friends for years versus not even a full
day.
    “I guess not.”
    “So who was playing at Cosmo last night?”
    “I don’t know—whoever it was sucked
though.”
    She launches into a story about how she met
MaXXX from Elysium once, before they were really big, and I settle
back