Free Sleeping Jenny by Aubrie Dionne Page A

feeling like he was in the next room when he really was a world away.
    Angela appeared on the next clip. I almost gagged when I saw who she sat next to. Chad played on his iPhone, probably texting his best jock buds. They sat in the stadium, watching the cheerleaders practice their routine on the football field.
    â€œHi, Jenny.” She seemed happier than I remembered her, with a squeak in her voice and a bounciness to her curls. “I wanted to bring you along for the preparations for the Autumn Ball. Shelly Smith is working on the theme this year. It’s going to be Underwater Illusions. See, the cheerleaders are all dressed in green and blue.”
    The video focused on the cheerleading team and I sighed, sitting back and fingering Maxim’s card. Since when did Angela care about them?
    She turned the camera back to her face. Her eyes blinked and she bit the side of her mouth. I knew that expression. She was hiding something. Or was it just my imagination on overdrive? Maybe she tried to hide her sadness for me. I didn’t know.
    â€œChad and I are working on the decorations. We thought we’d do a big disco ball in the center with streamers that blew like currents underwater. What do you think?”
    Chad’s voice mumbled beside her, “Jenny never liked that kind of stuff, Angie. She’s going to think this is the lamest video of all time.”
    I laughed. He was right.
    Wait a second. How come he called her Angie? And how did he know me so well?
    I thought he didn’t even know my last name. It must have been the famous “after you’re dead” syndrome. You know, when someone died tragically and then everyone pretended they knew them just to have something to talk about, because knowing them turned from lame to mega-cool. Maybe I was the famous dead girl at Ridgewood Prep.
    But I wasn’t dead. They were.
    Tears stung my eyes. I clicked off the screen. I’d seen enough for tonight.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    Window to the Past
    T he weekend came sooner than I wanted. I hadn’t had another chance to talk with Maxim alone, and now I had two whole days off with my substitute family and a robot that still freaked me out. I thought about calling Maxim’s miniscreen, but I actually understood General Relativity, so the whole conversation would be a lie. Besides, he was with Exara, and stealing someone’s boyfriend wasn’t on my moral compass. Even if she was mean. Not that I could, anyway .
    Instead of pining away for someone I couldn’t have, which was the story of my life, I had other things on my mind. After another family breakfast of soycakes, I waited until C-7 was alone, loading the dishwasher. I walked into the kitchen just as he dropped a spork into a utensil holder resting on a tray that came out of the wall. He set each plate a perfect half-inch apart.
    â€œGreetings, Jennifer. Did you enjoy your breakfast?”
    â€œSure. I’m getting used to those soycakes. You just have to load on a whole lot of sappy sauce.”
    â€œAlthough not nutritionally balanced, the sappy sauce provides an incentive to consume more.”
    â€œUm, yeah. Anyway, I was wondering about the conversation we had the other day. About Martha Maynard.”
    C-7’s silver eyes scanned the area behind my head. I leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, they’re all busy in the other room”
    â€œWhat would you like to know about Martha Maynard?”
    I fidgeted with a sticky spork before popping it into the tray. C-7 moved the utensil slightly to the right in perfect formation with the others. I’d watched too many of those cheap sci-fi movies growing up, because crazy robots from the future stuck in my mind. Again. If he wanted to, he had enough power to jam that spork right down my throat.
    I blinked and swallowed hard. “I’d like to know where she lives. I want to meet her.”
    The gears in his neck spun, and I wondered if