A Drone Named Jeffrey

Chapter Twenty Five

Space

Riley was mad at me.

And not the kind of angry she got when I tried to get her attention through her window while she was changing clothes (I learned a long time ago that humans were apparently very sensitive when they didn't have their clothes on), or even the hissy angry when I let Furball in the house to sleep on her bed. This was full out I'm-seeking-vengeance-on-you anger.

Maybe I should have pretended to be more sympathetic about this whole moving thing…

A water balloon burst on my windshield, and I forced myself not to move. Furball hissed when a drop of water landed beside it, and Riley's dad looked up from the tools he had been packing. "Where did that thing come from again?"

"You tell me; you're the one that found the pile of scrap metal."

Another water balloon landed in the center of my hood, and I wanted to swipe the cold water off my windshield so badly. Her dad shook his head when a balloon missed me and burst beside his feet. "I meant the cat, not the car that's apparently on you bad side now."

"It showed up one day." Another balloon, and oh great! It was one that had the sticky cleanser in it. The kind I hate and Riley knows I hate. Yay. "It killed all the squirrels."

"Wondered where those things went off to. You seen my power drill around here?"

"Nope." Wax—the balloon was wax this time. Wax was only good after the car wash. And with a buffer. "What do you think about a pink muscle car?"

"Neon or pastel?"

Another water balloon landed, and it did not mix well with the wax. "I was thinking pastel. Neon would still be cool."

Please don't let there be paint in one of those balloons. She still had a whole bucket full of them.

Her dad chuckled and picked up the box he had filled. Furball scampered under the table as soon as he cleared it and hissed when another water balloon missed. Good for me—bad for the cat. "How much you got left to pack?"

"When do we have to leave?"

He sighed. "A week."

"Then everything until the day before."

He shook his head and headed to the house. The moment he was in the door, Riley picked up the bucket and ran towards me. I tensed when a dozen or so balloons rained down on me, the contents varying from soap to wax. Riley tossed the bucket aside and glared down at my hood. "You deserved that."

"If you say so."

Riley frowned. "It doesn't make me feel better."

"If it makes you feel better, it doesn't make me feel better either."

"Don't try to make me laugh when I'm still mad at you."

"I'm not." I hummed my engine, and Furball took that as a sign to jump on my hood and enjoy the heat. It immediately growled and jumped back off, shaking all its limbs to get rid of nasty concoction it had landed in. "Unless it's working and we can get past this quicker."

"I'm still mad." Riley huffed and kicked at a balloon that hadn't popped when it fell. "This is stupid."

"You said it."

"I think I just need a little space. A lot of stuff is happening all at once, and nerves on top of anger doesn't really help."

"Are you…are you breaking up with me?"

Riley blankly stared at me, and I hummed my engine a little louder. She kicked my front bumper. "I told you not to make me laugh."

"I thought it was an appropriate question!"

A smile finally appeared on her face before she forced herself to scowl. Riley picked up the balloon she had kicked and popped it against my hood, adding more wax to the mess she had made. "I'm going to start packing."

"Have fun with that." I waited until she was halfway across the yard before honking. "Hey! You're not planning on letting this stuff just sit here, right?"

She took one glance at me before slowly climbing up the steps of the porch, her eyes still on me. My engine roared. "Riley! If I transform, all of this is going to get stuck in my seams. Riley!"

Furball hissed as the door slammed shut, and I grumbled along with it.