The change in the air was immediate. It was no longer cold, but at that temperature where you can't comment on it being too hot or too cold because it was neither, the temperature of compromise. Ro blinked, and instead of staring into Zee's face—or, more aptly, given the circumstances that were happening, his eyes or even nose—she found herself staring at a mantel with less than tasteful knickknacks and a vase of flowers set upon it.
"If that's what you really want, Ro, I'll call your social worker and you can go somewhere else."
Her eyes widened and Ro whirled, finding herself looking at a sad Zee. Inhuman rage coursed through her. "No, no, no!" she screamed stomping her feet childishly. "It's not fair!"
Zee blinked at her, startled and stepping back. "What's wrong, Ro? I thought you just said . . ."
She ignored him, clenching her fists. She was this close to getting kissed by Zee! It wasn't fair! "No stupid, idiot! How could you? Argh! No! No!"
"Rosalie, stop it!" Zee said, trying to be authoritative but failing completely and coming off only as pleading.
"Shut up! It's not fair!" Ro gripped her hair and turned her back towards him. "Grrr!"
"What's not fair?"
Ro looked over her shoulder at him and glared. "Just go away," she hissed, stomping her foot. "If I never see you again it'll be too soon!"
Zee blinked at her, hurt, then nodded quietly. "All right, Ro. I'll just," he shrugged lamely, hopelessly, "go make the call."
"You do that." She crossed her arms and smacked herself on the couch, swearing oaths and curses at whatever made her leave a second before getting kissed by Zee, even a fake one. Ro could settle for a fake. She wouldn't believe it, of course, but she'd settle.
It took her a few minutes of deep breathing exercises to calm down enough to think straight. What twisted version of her life was this one? Ro looked around and saw a living room with light tastes and hardly any style, as if no one really lived in the room. Bah! Ro lifted up her feet and placed them on the coffee table, staring at the shoes. Jeez, what a cheap brand. Fashionable, but cheap.
"I would never wear these shoes," she swore with a snarl, still smarting slightly over the lost kiss but working past it, slowly. Whatever was going on, whoever was causing this, was going to die, pure and simple.
Ro laid back her head on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, biting her lip and crossing her eyes. All right, what's going on now? she wondered briefly. None of this made any sense, and none of it could be real. Impossible.
And where the heck did that fake Zee go? How dare he leave her? Ro slammed her feet down and stood up, stalking over to follow Zee wherever he had went. And how the heck would Zee be messed up this time, huh? Ro really didn't want to actually know, but morbidly had to find out.
She found him quickly enough in the next room next to the phone, speaking quietly to a woman on the other end. He seemed upset in both meanings of the word, sad and angry.
"Listen, Ms. Drewon, I don't think Ro should stay here anymore," he snapped bitterly. "She's already admitted she hates me."
"Mr. Smith, she's just acting out like a typical teenage girl would when offered stability and rules. You have to give it time."
Zee gave a harsh laugh. "She's been here over three months, Ms. Drewon. How much more time would you recommend? A few years?" He sighed and regained his equilibrium. "Ms. Drewon, I don't think I can continue to handle Ro and her best interests, as much as I hate to admit it. Just five minutes ago we had an argument about where I put the glasses away!"
"Ro is a very out-spoken girl, Mr. Smith. We all know that."
"So out-spoken she said that the only reason she hasn't run away was because I'm rich and cute? Is that a good enough reason for a teenage girl to live under my care, to have a relationship based on that?" he demanded.
There was no response for a moment, but Ro didn't stay to hear if there was one, shaking her head as she step away growing sick. She would have never said that to Zee, well, nothing other than in jest! She wouldn't have ever meant it! She would never want to leave Zee, no matter what his stupid rules were and who cares where he put the glasses! She won't never, ever want to leave him.
This wasn't real, it couldn't possibly be real. Zee even agreeing to send her away! He would never do it, even if she was serious. Her Zee, at least.
Ro turned away from the scene and rushed away, wiping away the tears. Even if this wasn't real, it hurt too much to stay and watch it, to listen to it. She ran blindly up some stairs and collided through a door, slamming it shut, then leaned against it. A different Ro might had slid down crying, but Ro merely bitterly wiped her eyes. This wasn't real, and she wasn't going to get attached. That was her problem, she liked the other Zees she met, but they weren't real, none of this was.
"I WANT TO GO HOME!" she screamed on the top of her lungs, kicking away an empty basket. "I WANT TO GO HOME RIGHT NOW! DO YOU HEAR ME? NONE OF THIS IS REAL!" A bunch of books neatly set on a dresser were thrown the ground with an angry sweep of her arm, and she threw a bunch of comp pads against the wall and window.
With a savage roar, she threw the pillows and comforters off the unmade bed, trying to ball up the blankets and tossing them as far as she could, growing frustrated when all they did was tangle up in her.
There was a red-bounded book on the bed, the only thing left, and Ro gripped it, set to rip out the insides, but the title stopped her. Diary. Whose? Ro wiped her eyes and nose, blinking through the haze of confusion to stare at the book with actual pages and not a scrolling screen and type pad.
She didn't bother to feel guilty opening the book to read someone's most personal thoughts. It didn't matter, since none of this was real, after all. Of course, when it turned out to be in her own terrible penmanship, Ro gapped.
"I'd never keep a diary!" she countered, holding it away at arm's length. Yet the book spoke otherwise, and Ro twistedly started to read her own life that was wrong.
August 5th, 2041-
Zee Smith, what a dorky name. What a dork. I can't believe they assigned him as my guardian. Please. God, I think I'd rather go back to the Morgan's than be a guinea pig for this new "Big Sibs" Guardianship they're starting, instead of trying for parentals. God, what a dumb idea. He is so clueless, super smart and dumb. And rich, apparently, and cute. Very cute. I'm not blind of course! But so very, very lame. I am so out of here the first chance I get.
Ro made a face at her—well, not her—words and threw the book away. That was so not her, no wonder Zee was trying to get rid of her. She'd try to get rid of herself, calling Zee lame. Zee was not lame; he was . . . Zee.
Even still, Ro curled up into a ball and buried her face in her knees, crying softly. Zee was trying to get rid of her, and it hurt. A lot. She was going to kill herself for making Zee give her up, there was no mistake.