I Heart Robot Read Online Free Page A

time as he leans his body into mine. My pulse beats in agitato triplets as I pull off his sweater. Rurik’s all jagged hipbones and harp-string clavicles. He’s just taken my shirt off when the front door hisses open and my mom yells for Miles.
    “Botspit!” Rurik reaches for his sweater. Giggling, I put myself back together and smooth down my hair. Mom always knows. I don’t know how she can tell when Rurik and I have been fooling around, but somehow she always does and ends up giving me this look of disapproval that feels worse than if she confronted me outright.
    We’ve never had a mother-daughter sex talk. Mom taught me about menstruation and procreation using scientific terms, showing me diagrams in a textbook. It felt more like a lecture than a conversation. Going to buy tampons for the first time was the most embarrassing experience. Mom asked me about the heaviness of my flow right there in the store. I don’t even want to think about how she’d deal with a discussion about prophylactics and orgasms.
    Rurik combs fingers through his curls and rearranges his pants.
    “Tyri?” Mom calls, her slipper-covered feet shushing down the hallway.
    “In here.” We position ourselves in what we hope passes for innocent stances: me on the bed flipping through sheet music on a databoard, Rurik sitting on the floor fiddling with his moby.
    “Think you might want these.” Mom drops Rurik’s bag and sneakers at the door. She raises a single eyebrow. That combined with her severe suit and hair bun makes her seem all the more like a cane-wielding schoolmistress.
    “Tyri, you called me earlier but didn’t leave a message?”
    “Yeah, I’ve got good news.”
    “And I’d love to hear it. Join me in the kitchen in five.” She pauses at the door. “Rurik, your sweater’s inside out.”
    Rurik, pale as snow with his pure Skandic genes, turns puce with embarrassment.
    “Let me help.” I tug off his shirt again, turning it the right way round and looping it over his head.
    “Once I’m at Osholm, we’ll have more privacy.”
    “You’ll have a roommate.”
    “Nothing a digisplay set to busy can’t fix.” He tucks loose hair behind my ear and clears my bangs from my eyes. “I am sorry about earlier.” His apology seems genuine. “I was with my dad.”
    “Sorry I interrupted.”
    “Don’t be. It’s just, well, you know how he is.”
    “I’m surprised he even managed to squeeze you in between press conferences and golf course meetings.” Knowing Rurik’s father, it’s no wonder his mom looked for love elsewhere. The only reason they didn’t get divorced after that was because it wouldn’t be good for Engelberger Senior’s or their eldest son’s political career, never mind the family’s corporate image.
    “He’s preoccupied at the moment,” Rurik says.
    “Problems?”
    “Not sure, but he read me the riot act about not bringing shame to the great Engelberger name while I’m at Osholm.”
    “Sometimes I’m glad my father was an anonymous sperm donor.” Not sure I would’ve been any better off with two parents. Mom’s hardly ever around anyway and my dad, if I’d had one, probably would’ve been a workaholic too. Still, sometimes I wish I knew who he was, whether I look like him, or if I have half siblings.
    Rurik helps me to my feet and kisses me gently before we amble to the kitchen.
    “What’s the big news?” Mom arranges my flowers in a vase. She’s dressed in sweats that mold her figure, which seems untouched by pregnancy. Miles busies himself with food packages at the sink. Cups of coffee and hot chocolate wait for us on the counter.
    “I’m going to play for the Baldur Junior Philharmonic.”
    “You got in?” She blinks at me.
    “You sound surprised.”
    Part of me shrivels up inside and dies, legs in the air twitching dead.
    “I … ” Mom trails off. “Well done, sweetheart. I’m happy for you, but remember what we discussed.” She slides a mug of hot chocolate toward