Page 22 of Atticus
“I’m more than happy to assist,” Atticus replies.
“Good. Because you’re going to be front and center in this social media makeover,” I reply. “I told you, we’re going to change people’s minds. This is how we do that. We cultivate a community of curious people online in the area. Slowly that spreads. People need to see you for who you are, that you’re not a threat. I’ve got some ideas for content that’ll make people feel good.”
“Who I am,” Atticus repeats thoughtfully.
“Precisely. What makes you Atticus. What makes you special.”
“I do not think I’m special,” he muses. “There are several others like me.”
“No, I don’t agree.” I tilt my head up, gazing into his brilliant white eyes. “You’re different. Even now, you’re different.”
“And this is a good thing?”
“One hundred percent.”
“What content are you planning?”
“We’ll need to get Trey in on it, but once we do, I think we’re going to knock this one out of the ball park.”
“By playing baseball?” Atticus asks, brow furrowed in adorable confusion as he continues to toy with my hair. The sensation of it threatens to make me so relaxed, I could fall asleep in place if I’m not careful.
I laugh softly. “Not quite.” I lean into his touch. “Thank you. For this. It’s amazing.”
“You have a heavy workload. I recommend we continue sessions like this. To ensure you are properly rested and relaxed every night.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice.Easy, now, Lucy. You might be liking this a little too much.There’s definitely heat pooled between my legs that wasn’t there before. How long has it been since I’ve been intimate with anybody, even in an innocent way like this?
I’m a professional. I should probably tell him this isn’t appropriate.
But a guy who doesn’t mind watching TV with me, playing with my hair, and showing genuine concern about my welfare? It’s hard to argue with that.
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
* * *
Syncing Atticus to the school accounts the next day after confirming Carlisle is on board with Renee’s plan makes me nervous, even though it shouldn’t. It’s been at least a year since I’ve been anywhere near social media. A little voice inside me warns it’s too soon, and I’m playing with fire.
You left this for a reason,the voice lectures, fearful and unsure.Remember? Don’t get twisted up in this again.
But it’s hard to back down now, especially when Atticus is so excited to help the school’s online presence grow.
Aside from media planning, I take some time to reflect on how far I’ve come, focusing on the good instead of the bad. I’m fully settled in St. Morgan now, and after a little exploration, I mostly know my way around. Atticus accompanies me to school, to the store, everywhere. Not because I need him or anything, but because he wants to, and I’ve come to enjoy his company.
I know he’s a machine. Renee once teasingly called him a computer with legs, and if I’m honest, an ass that refuses to quit. I’m not the only one who’s looked—there’s Carlisle, for one, and the school nurse, and the account manager too, and I doubt I’ll be the last. He’s a handsome one, and there’s no point in denying it. The man cuts such a healthy figure, he could belong in a military uniform, not in blue, gray, and white servant’s attire. I was so happy when Trey stopped by with entire bags full of clothes for him, true to the word he gave at the picnic. Atticus no longer sticks out at school in his default apparel. The only giveaway to his identity as an android is his stark-white eyes. He rocks it all: blue jeans, khakis, V-necks, jackets. He even did his own research and now knows how to properly accessorize.
“That must’ve been hundreds of dollars worth of clothes, Trey,” I tell him the moment I get the chance. Being Vautrin’s resident SRO, he moves around a lot, never still. “That was really amazing of you.”
Trey’s smile is catching. “Thousands, actually. Ma likes to make sure I never step outside looking like a fool. I tell her to stop buying me those things, but you know how mothers are—they never listen. Not sure I wore even half of those clothes.”
Atticus is also appreciative, and aside from the occasional snide comment from Sullivan, the rest of the teachers seem to quietly agree that he appears human enough to merit his own wardrobe. He is a dish, no matter what he wears. The more I think about it, though, it isn’t just that he’s sexy as hell and a treat for the eyes. There’s somethingdifferentabout Atticus, something inherentlyhimin the way he behaves.
It was hard to notice at first. A question here or there that seemed oddfrom something—someone—so artificial. Looking back, his curiosity about my social life, or lack thereof, was something I chalked up to a lack of life experience. It’s endearing how he’s an adult male but has really only experienced the world as we know it for a month.
Cute on him. Organic men, not so much.
I’m reluctant to point it out too often to other faculty members. Some really are set in their ways.Life? But he’s not living!My goal of helping them see beyond their own understanding is slow-going, but I keep trying as best I can, without sacrificing my own mental energy in the process. When I ask the faculty during a teachers’ meeting not to use certain words to describe Atticus in front of the children, I’m met with push-back, even from people I get along with and respect.
“You’re being too PC, Lucy,” Bryant warns me brusquely. “You can’t police people’s thoughts and words about androids.”
