Back home.

I spent the bus ride back thinking about that interaction. It felt so... odd. I pushed it out of my mind, but the feeling still held.

Eventually, I made it to my stop and exited. Only half a block from my apartment, all the way down the sidewalk, up the steps, and in the elevator, I tried to think of something else, but it kept coming back. The only thing that could truly take my mind off my most recent fuck up was busy at the moment. I looked at the time figuring Ashley wouldn't be back for another hour. The elevator door dinged open, and I walked down the short hall to my door. Inside Ms. Maywell's apartment, I could hear some weird music, but I shrugged it off and went inside.

"Greg!" I jumped at the voice, seeing Ashley standing in the kitchen. "Where the fuck did you go?" She gestured to the living room. "I thought you said you'd clean up!"

I walked over to the counter and looked at the groceries scattered across it, trying to decipher what the meal was going to be. "I had some errands to run as well, sorry."

She put down the bag of potatoes she held and took my hand. "Greg, I'm worried." Her face held the same look it did a couple of hours ago. "You disappear for a whole day, show up looking like shit with weird cuts in your hands..." she unwrapped my fingers and ran her thumb across the tiny scabs in my palms. "I know you didn't drink for a whole day. That's not how you work."

"Ashley, I-" I looked away and sighed. "Look, I promise I'll tell you soon, and I'm sorry for lying, but right now, I don't really want to talk about it. I just need... a distraction." I looked back to see her staring at my palm, "I am okay, that I promise." I couldn't help but feel like I was lying to her again. Maybe my prototype solution's wrath wasn't done. I couldn't be 100% certain my promise was true.

"Okay." She said, looking up at me. Her beautiful eyes snared me once again. I tried to put on my best gentle smile to ease her worries. "Well, I'm cooking dinner." She said, returning to the potatoes.

The counter had a stack of fresh green beans, saltine crackers, pork chops as well as a whole host of other ingredients. "Schnitzel?" I asked, having seen this scene before.

"Yup."

"Want some help?" I asked, picking up the packaged pork.

"Nooo," She snatched the pork away. "I want you to clean up." She pointed to the mess of blankets and snacks in the living room.

"What?" I chuckled. "You made that mess!"

"I am also cooking a gourmet meal, so uhhhh, get to it, pal." She ripped open the plastic container.

"Ugh, you're just the worst!" I cried in a whiny voice as I started my task.

"Love ya too, bestie!" She replied in a sing-songy voice.

I had known Ashley since we were eight. Her mother and my mother were coworkers at LGL when they first started, and we ended up becoming close friends. We hung out almost every day; eventually, we turned 13. And then she turned 14, and I "Counted-up." She never left me, though, and we always stayed friends. In my early count up years, between testing from my mother and schoolwork, we hung out, and I began to notice just how much I was attracted to her.

My mother had cured my brain of the Shota Virus, but my dick still was broken. I never confessed my feelings to Ashley. I felt I never could unless I could fix my body and become a "real man." Most Counties never thought about the concept of a real man, but it was a consequence of Ashley's favorite pastime and now a career. A historian of the 20th and early 21st century.

She loved that time period. When humanity had just begun to really figure out some things and had been recording it all. The entire internet was at historians' fingertips. Waiting to be sifted through. That was Ashley's job. Sitting around watching old movies, YouTube videos, and more. Noting anything of importance and generally building a picture of what life was like back then.

Together we'd watched hundreds of old movies and media from those days. Films about sex and ****, where they'd show a real man, rescue the pretty girl and save the day. When I was younger, I realized how much Ashley had fantasized that. I'd never truly measure up if I couldn't be that. Nevertheless, I cherished the time I spent with her; sharing every movie, video, and song.

Ashley's second favorite thing in the world was cooking. She had spent many a day watching people from the past make intricate dishes too divine for a human soul to experience fully. I had always told her that she was so good, she could apply to any restaurant in the world, or even start her own, and become the greatest chef the world had ever seen.

But she never really believed that the way I did. So instead, she stayed with her other passion, Internet Historian. Its pay was shit, but she loved it. She was happy, and selfishly, I never pushed her as hard as I could've. She could only afford a little apartment. One that really couldn't house everything she needed for her hobbies. So she came over to my place. Almost daily. To work, cook, and hang out. She was content with her life, and I had little motivation to ruin our dynamic.

After I finished cleaning up my room and the living room, I sat down and watched her cook. She had this recipe memorized and had cooked it many times before. Her flow through the kitchen was seamless. No time wasted, and every food was perfectly prepared. She liked to joke that she'd be the perfect housewife, like in the movies. Stay home all day and cook food. I didn't fully understand the "housewives" of the past, but one thing that Ashley was, that they weren't, was her own person. She couldn't be ordered around or talked down to like they were in the movies.

Eventually, she finished up and had two perfect plates filled with delicious food. During dinner, I let Ashley talk about the crazy things she'd found in her research as I shoveled mashed potatoes, green beans, and schnitzel in my face. She rambled on about weird memes, an awful movie about singing cats, and this really creepy image she saw that gave her nightmares last night. I listened to it all, absorbing all her words out of genuine intrigue and care. She finished eating, but somehow I was still starving. I ate all that was left, leaving nothing for later. She threw all the dishes in the dishwasher, and that was dinner.

Afterward, she really wanted me to try this new show she'd found. It was dark, intriguing, and violent. We moved into the bedroom, and she tethered her databank to the TV. Before it started, she explained the premise of the show. "Basically they make this theme park, about the wild west, and in it, all the people in the park are all synthetic people. These super-rich people pay to go to the park and there they can do whatever they want. Kill the fake people, **** them, destroy shit, anything."

"What's the wild west?"

"Uh... It's like- I don't know how to explain it well, you'll see." She curled up in the blankets and told the TV to play.

The show started, and immediately I was hooked. I didn't understand everything as the culture of the "Wild West" was so different than today's, but I loved it. When the credits rolled, Ashley sat up and smiled. "What'd you think?" Her beautifully messy locks cascaded down her back and shoulders."

"I vant moar!" I tapped my fingers together, mimicking a vampire from one of her favorite movies.

She laughed and threw the blankets off her. "Well, I'll leave you the databank then."

I sat up too. "What, you're leaving?"

"Yeah... I gotta get up early and help the Boss Lady." She stretched and groaned.

"Oh, come on," I whined. "Your mom needs to chill the fuck out."

"She's been really needy since her diagnosis, but I hate leaving her hanging because she always bitches and moans." Ashley flopped back into the pillows.

I sighed and looked at her. "One more?"

"Ugh! Fine." She huffed sarcastically.

Together we sat in happy silence as the scenes unfolded before us. At one point, there was a woman that vaguely resembled Ashley before she had dyed her hair. She was completely naked. I stared at her, wondering if that's what Ashley looked like. My lust began to feel even more powerful. And suddenly a little bit different. "TV, pause." I ordered before turning to Ashley, "I'll be right back."

I ran into the bathroom and shut the door. I pulled down my pants and saw something magnificent. Attached to my body was the first stiffy in over a century.