Conduit

Ch. 21

Frank jumped over the counter, sliding like a cool character in a movie. He landed with a plop and spun in a circle. With his hands in the air, the sound of his shoes squeaking on the floor traveled in the air. The entire overacting moment made me grin.

He was dumb. But this was amusing.

Frank pressed a button on the register. The small monitor on top of it powered on. A gentle ding echoed on the twenty-fourth floor. He grinned at me. "What's the order, sir?" he asked.

My brows shot up as I laughed. Was this supposed to help me forget what just happened? The androids chose to remain together, potentially die together, because they couldn't abandon the others. It was a pretty dark moment, and I wasn't sure how a goofy server could help me forget it.

Yet, I couldn't stop grinning.

"Um, I don't know. What could I have?" I scratched my eyebrow. "It wasn't like I got a menu or anything."

"Oh, ho! My apologies, sir." Frank hopped back on the counter to tap the wall to his right. There was a screen there, one bright and clear. He pointed at the words that appeared before looking back at me. "Can you see this?" he asked.

The letters were small but yes, I could read them. I nodded and waved a hand. "Yup."

"Perfect." Frank moved back around. "Now, what could I get you, sir?"

I had to admit, this was cute. He reminded me of a school crush that would do anything to make you smile after a bad day. Only this was more serious than some teenage years. This was more than a bad grade or a poor choice, fifty lives would be lost in a few hours. They were digital lives, but to me, that made no difference.

Squinting my eyes, I read the menu.

"Hey, you said you could read it," Frank quipped.

"I can," I laughed. "Just small letters, okay? Years of working on machines and using computers take a toll."

His brows shot up as if he understood and my gaze returned to the menu. Honestly, I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone to a restaurant. Money was usually too tight to splurge on unnecessaries, and if I couldn't make it myself, I wasn't going to eat it. I could cook and I wasn't bad at it, so I never thought of venturing out for anything extra. Unless it was pizza or tacos; even with the state of the world, there were some dishes I couldn't say no to.

"Question." I raised my hand.

"One of many." Frank's hands hovered over the register.

"If you're doing this, who's going to cook it? Not saying I don't trust you," in a way, that was what I was saying and I didn't know too much about Frank to judge his cooking, "but I'm curious if you're able to make double-fried burritos."

I pointed at the menu. The food I mentioned was second on the list. I wasn't mad at the selection, it felt like every restaurant choice was within this room.

"Oh." Frank craned his head around to look at the menu. "That sounds good. Been a minute since I had any burrito." His fingers tapped at the register. "A little beef and cheese could bring up any mood."

"Wait." I cupped my hands. "I didn't say I wanted that."

"You don't want a burrito?" Frank cocked a brow. "A fried burrito. Blasphemy."

I let out a hearty laugh. The shock and disgust in Frank's voice were perfect. "I mean, I'll take it, but I wanted to know who will make it."

"Androids," Frank said it so easily that I had to lean back in my seat, shocked. "I press the button and they come out and prepare it."