By R.W.W. Greene
Winks and words twinkled across her retinas. “;-) 😉 😉 Amitteee hz a boyfrend! Amittee hz a boyfrend! 😉 😉 ;-)”
The message scrolled left into Amity’s peripheral vision. She grinned and waved at her friends as their autocab pulled away. Amity skipped happily for one, two steps, then three but made herself stop and walk the rest of the way. She palmed the biolock on the door frame. Her face slid from fading giddiness to practiced world-weariness when she spotted her parents watching the Wall in the living room.
“How was the dance?” Mom said. The Wall sensed it had lost its audience and froze, waiting for the command to resume. “Did you talk to any cute boys?”