Earth Day
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"We could plant a tree?" Dorian suggested hopefully, searching online for Earth Day celebrations and activities.
"No."
"We could run a 5K?"
"Hell no," John emphasized.
"We could volunteer in a community garden."
"That sounds great!" John said, smiling at Dorian. Anything to stop this endless list of terrible activities.
"...Really?" Dorian asked, caught off-guard by the amiable and positive response.
"Yeah, where should I go? Put it in the GPS."
Dorian touched two fingers to the screen in the cruiser as they drove, directing them toward a vegetable garden out in the sticks.
"This is so exciting!" Dorian said, nearly bouncing in his seat, "We can tend to the vegetables and help out in the community! And honor Earth day."
They parked in the grass by a ramshackle greenhouse. A hand-painted sign said "Volunteers Welcome" in sloppy, large letters. It looked a little worn.
Dorian popped out of the car, making a point to breathe in and analyze the fresh air. John locked the car door and shifted into reverse. He pulled out quickly. Dorian spun to stare at him.
John'd been out here before; there was an amazing steak house a few clicks down the road. He rolled down the window, "Have fun sweetie!" he called, grinning wide and waving, "I'll be back to get you in two hours! Play nice!"
Dorian's mouth hung open as John took off down the road. He folded his arms in a huff and went into the greenhouse. What a nightmare. There wasn't a damn thing growing in here other than what looked like some illegal plants way in the back. There was a homeless man sleeping on a bale of moldy hay.
Dorian called John's cell phone. No answer.
John was sitting in a booth, one leg up. The huge steak in front of him was perfect; it melted in his mouth like butter. His cell phone vibrated across the table for the fifteenth time and he smacked it off. A minute later he looked up as Dorian slid into the other side of the booth, apocalyptic fury plastered on his brow.
"How was it?" John asked casually, smirking around a big bite of steak.
Dorian's anger turned morose, "Just eat your steak, John." His voice sounded utterly defeated.
The bite in his mouth went down harder than the others. He reached over and took Dorian's hand, "Sorry, it was a mean trick. Did you plant lots of food?"
The android accepted John's warm touch and looked to the side, embarrassed. "It was just a bunch of vagrant potheads," he admitted quietly, frowning and looking down, "not a vegetable in sight."
If John didn't know better, the android was blushing. Or maybe it was just all the mahogany on the walls of the ridiculous steakhouse. He sighed and pushed the remaining steak away, his belly was straining against his pants. "Okay, okay," he said, guilt getting the best of him, "Let's go plant a fucking tree."
Dorian smiled and slid out of the booth. He was happy to finally be getting his way, but there was no way he was getting out of the cruiser without John getting out first. He'd never make that mistake again.
