The Darcy Project

Sophia fled from the kitchen as Micah led me into the room, pulling down a chair and shoving me into it. He was grinning and had been since he’d summoned me from my bedroom. I’d been in the middle of attempting to do my homework. I just wasn’t in the mood to do assignments. I knew all the answers, I had since I’d been created.

“Close your eyes,” he said, tapping the top of my head. I did as he asked, laughing and waiting patiently as he hurried off to my left. In a few seconds there was the sound of something being placed on the table in front of me. I resisted the urge to disobey him and open my eyes. “Open!”

A grin broke across my face as I admired the large cake before me. It was chocolate with chocolate frosting. There was a candle in the shape of a three, surrounded by a ludicrous amount of colorful, regular shaped candles.

“Happy 3 months of being alive… Anniversary!”
I giggle, rolling my eyes.

“You didn’t have to do this, Micah. It’s customary to wait until someone’s been alive for a certain amount of years,” I said as he sat down at the chair diagonally beside me.

“But you’re eighteen and you’ve never had a birthday celebration. You deserve one,” he started to cut me a slice, “but I can’t do this every month, due to the fact that I’m a very lazy man.”

He placed the slice on the small plate in front of me and I thanked him, grinning wider. “So how about every three months we celebrate your birth? Of course, before we even catch up to eighteen you’ll be turning nineteen… so maybe every two months…”

“How about we make this cake count as eighteen cakes?” I suggested, patting his hand, “You’ve put enough candles on.”
He nodded, chuckling, cutting himself a slice.

“Good point.”
Once his cake slice was served, he leaned back in his chair, “Sophia, do you want some cake?”

A loud ha! could be heard from somewhere in the house. I giggled and Micah sighed. I’d lived in their house for two months now and she still refused to talk to me. It was literally laughable. I was as human as her, my blood was just different colored and I was a three month old teenager. Or an adult, to be more specific.

After a few minutes of Micah and I chatting and eating our cake, the doorbell rang. We both glanced back, as if we could see through the wall that blocked the door from our view.

I stood before he could, “I’ll get it.”
Topher stood on my front porch, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he saw me. He must have expected Micah to be the one answering the door. I smiled at him and his lip twitched up but he didn’t completely return it.
“Hey there!”

“Uh, hey,” he said, his eyes darting beyond me. “This is a really weird request, but do you guys have any raisins?”

“Um, I have no idea. But we’re having cake, and you could have a slice while I search. Sound like a plan?”

“I don’t want to intrude-“
I grabbed his arm, towing him inside and shutting the door. I led Topher into the kitchen and he looked around awkwardly. In the past two months I’d become slightly closer to him. We weren’t good friends, though, but we did get along.

“Is it alright if Topher has some cake?”
Micah looked away from his piece, frosting smudged on his face and his mouth full. He nodded quickly, waving Topher in.

“Of course,” he mumbled, covering his mouth. I gestured to the chair across from Micah and Topher hesitantly sat down. I strode into the kitchen, checking the pantry.

“Do you have raisins, Micah?”

“Dunno,” he said, still chewing. I rolled my eyes, smiling and rummaging through the shelves. Sophia probably knew, but I wasn’t going to even bother with that. I’d probably approach her and she’d hit me or start crying. Which was fine.

I found one of those tiny boxes after a while and turned around, shaking them next to my face. Topher looked up from the slice of cake he’d been eating, smiling with his mouth closed.

“Found them,” I sang, coming to sit down where I’d been. I placed the raisins in front of him and he thanked me once he’d swallowed. “So what do you need these for?”
He grimaced.

“My mom. She cooks.”

“Most mothers do.”

“True, but she needs these raisins for a casserole.”
Micah made a gagging noise and I couldn’t fight back a grimace that matched Tophers.

“Well, I’ve never had a raisin casserole, maybe it’s-“

“It’s not.”

“It’s not good?” I asked, even thought it made complete sense. Topher shook his head.

“It’s really not.”

When school finally got out, I was more relieved than I’d ever been in my whole existence. Which wasn’t an exaggeration. I was tired of being in the boring building, tired of the tedious lessons that were already downloaded into my brain.

I shook my head as I found Lily. I couldn’t be thinking things like that. School was important and it was wrong of me to have such a poor attitude towards it. School was a good thing. I loved school. I loved school.

Lily spotted me and rushed over, a torn expression on her pretty face.

“Darcy, I’m so sorry, but I’ve got a thing this afternoon! Could Micah come get you or something?”

Although I had a perfect ability to drive, Micah couldn’t afford a third car for me. Lily had been driving me home for the past month and a half, while Micah took me to school. Micah was generally busy in the afternoons, but I could always walk home.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll find a ride,” I said, giving her a comforting smile. She sighed, her shoulders hunching dramatically. She hugged me violently, saying goodbye and dashing away. I turned, heading out of the school.

I wouldn’t even bother calling or texting Micah, there was no need to. Also, it was refreshing to be out in Berkeley’s green neighborhoods. The sun had managed to break through the clouds, its warm rays covering me like a blanket.

That was when it started to rain. I liked the rain. I liked the sun. I liked wind, hail, basically any kind of weather. It be imperfect to prefer one over the other. Each was necessary. I almost hit myself for thinking about weather for as long as I had.

If I’d been talking to someone they would have died of boredom. Of course I wouldn’t have even considered voicing my boring inner monologue, because that would be a terrible decision. It would be imperfect.

A car pulled up beside me and I stopped as they rolled down the passenger window. It was Topher and he was smiling.

“Get in my car, little girl,” he said, more relaxed than usual. I laughed, walking over and leaning down so I could peer in through the window.

“Are you sure? My house is so far away from yours.”
He rolled his eyes, smiling. I hopped in the car, winding up the window so the rain couldn’t get in. We started driving and small talking. I almost brought up the fact I liked every sort of weather, but I managed to resist.

“I wish it would rain like this all the time,” Topher said when we were almost at our houses. I nodded, looking away from the grey world outside the car window.

“If it was like this all the time we’d all drown in a tragic flood.”

“I’d build a boat for us, don’t worry.”
I raised an eyebrow and he glanced at me. His jaw dropped. “You doubt my boat building abilities.”

I held my hands up defensively.

“No I don’t! I’m sure you’d build the finest boat since Noah built the ark.”
He nodded, a pleased smile forming on his face. He was being so friendly, I wasn’t used to it. Not that he was every unkind or mean, he’d just always been so self conscious and quiet. It was amusing to see a different side of him.

When we finally got home, we ended up just sitting in his car.

“So how was your day?” I asked once we were done with another topic.

“Pretty good, I didn’t fail the physics test so, that’s always cool.”
Maybe that was why he was being so relaxed. That was what commonly made teenagers happy. Along with partying and eating. “And you?”

I blurted, “I’m so sick of school.”

My hands slammed over my mouth and my eyes widened. Had I verbalized that. I wasn’t even supposed to feels things like that, let alone voice opinions of that nature. If the team new they’d make me live in the lab again. Not that I cared.

But I did care.

“What’s wrong?” Topher asked, his tone concerned.

“Nothing. I just… I better get inside.” I opened the door, “thanks for the ride.”

I rushed over to the house, my stomach churning, my hands in tight fists at my sides. This was wrong. I shouldn’t be feeling this. But I couldn’t help it. Every day at school was becoming torture. I opened the front door, slamming it behind me and knotting my hands in my hair.

Think perfect thoughts, Darcy.