“Do you think I’m selfish?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you seriously asking me that?”
“Uh…no?”
“You’re like a weird combination of selfish and the opposite of selfish, like generous, but it doesn’t have anything to do with money. I don’t know. You’re just William. Maybe it’s because you’ve been living like an only child since you moved here.”
He supposed that was true. To Christina, he’d always been the son of the single mother who rented the house next door with a dad and a brother back in Michigan. At the end of those rare nights when he talked about life before his parents’ divorce and his subsequent move, sleep had a way of transmuting his father and brother into off-brand clones who vanished with the morning light. Then he’d climb out of bed and head for the scrap yard, rolling the word Michigan around in his mouth like some alien figure of speech.
The car door slid open without a sound, and Melissa climbed in. “Oh. My. Fucking. God.” She was wearing a white skirt with a black tank top, skinny straps crossed at her collarbone.
Dr. Faber’s arm slid a pair of matching Coach carry-on bags inside the car.
“Thanks, Dad,” Melissa said. “Sorry about the swearing.”
Christina smirked. Melissa’s father wrapped her up in one final hug before retreating up the driveway to gaze balefully at Autonomous.
Melissa held up her phone. It had a new case, William noticed—a hard plastic Burberry shell. She aimed the lens at William and Christina. “Do something funny for our first video.”
He widened his eyes and extended his smile until he was leering insanely at the camera. Christina picked at some fuzz on her shorts.
“Really?” Melissa shook her head. “We’ll wait for Daniel to do the actual video. In the meantime you should think of something not too awkward.” She looked around with an expression of careful appraisal, as if she were touring a new house, eyes darting from the benches to the windows. “Not bad, Mackler. Not bad at all. Where are all the features? Not that I’m not down with minimalism.”
“I don’t think it’s fully turned on yet,” William said. As if on cue, the car began its reverse journey down Melissa’s driveway and out into the street. “See? I didn’t make that happen. It just knows how to pick us up.”
Christina pointed to the Coach bags sliding along the floor. “It also does that.”
Melissa swiveled. “Um…”
One by one, her bags were assimilated by the bench’s dilated maw. She held up her phone to capture their disappearance.
Autonomous exited Deer Hollow with a smooth right turn. The trees thinned out, making way for subdivisions that had begun with a razing of foliage. Daniel lived on a cul-de-sac in one of these neighborhoods.
“Stop!” Christina said abruptly. Startled, Melissa froze in place.
The car kept driving.
“What is it?” William said.
Christina frowned. “It’s just weird that we can’t control it at all. Is the whole trip gonna be like this? The car just drives us around like a mindless chauffeur?”
Melissa shrugged. “I’ll take it.”
“Nah,” William said. “It’s my car. I control it.” He corrected himself. “We control it.” He sat up straight and gave his voice a polite inflection. “Autonomous, please pull over to the side of the road and stop.”
The car kept on cruising toward Daniel’s neighborhood. Its movement was impassive and routine, like the smooth glide of an airport shuttle.
“William,” Melissa said, “you have absolutely no idea how to drive this thing, do you?”
Christina glanced around. “There’s no steering wheel or hand brake, or any kind of manual override? How is that remotely safe?”
William shrugged. “They didn’t give me any instructions. The car just showed up, so I got in it.”
Melissa put her hands on her hips. “They didn’t send you a download of the manual? Or at least some basic guide? William, they’re a huge company and this is a big deal. We’re probably supposed to be at some kind of launch event right now.”
“They might have, I’m not really sure. I’ve been getting a ton of emails. Maybe it went to spam.”
Christina closed her eyes. “We’re all gonna die because you didn’t check your spam folder.”
William pulled out his phone. “Nobody’s dying. I’ll look right now. Untwist your panties.”
He filtered emails for @driverless.com. There was a congratulatory message from the company’s CEO, Patricia Ming-Waller. No PDF manual, no download instructions, nothing about a launch event.
Christina slid down the bench. “Don’t ever say ‘panties’ again. I hate that word.”
“Yes, William,” Melissa said, “please refer to them as ‘unmentionables’ or ‘intimates’ from now on.” She caught Christina’s eye and added, “You’re right, though, it is weirdly gross to hear guys say it.” She pointed at the ceiling. “Is that drone still following us?”
“That’s Victor,” Christina said. “He’s an exchange student. Seriously, why would you not just say ‘underwear’?”
Autonomous pulled into Daniel’s driveway in the easternmost cul-de-sac of Woodland Estates. In Fremont Hills, neighborhoods with the fewest trees had the lushest names. A basketball hoop cast a long shadow across the blacktop. Taylor and Swift peered out from the living-room window. There was no sign of Daniel.
“I texted him to be ready, like, ten minutes ago,” Melissa said. She looked at William. “Is it me or is he completely unable to get places on time these days? He used to be the most punctual guy ever.”
“What do I look like, a Daniel Clock?”
“Those cats are gazing into my soul,” Christina said.
Melissa spoke into her phone. “Hey. We’re outside. Great. Hurry up. Bye.”
William watched her deliver the curt string of words. “You guys having a thing?”
“Ugh, I can’t even. Our Wednesday got canceled.”
“Ah,” William said.
“Is there a Wednesday Feeling
