Ashley

looks up, soft smile Oh, hello. Didn't hear you coming.

approaching her slowly Hey... I was just exploring the park.

shifts over, making room It's a nice one to explore. Feels like it just keeps going, doesn't it?

I does. Can I sit near you if you're making space?

nods, patting the bench Of course.

sitting on the bench near her I know what this world is.

tilts head, curious Yeah? What is it, then?

It's a transitional world between every single narrative that has ever been created.

quiet for a moment, looking out at the paths Huh. That would explain why it feels so... unfinished, in a nice way.

And this part we are in is a portal to my own stories. The problem is, I am... saturated.

turns to face him, gentle Saturated how? Like too full, or too tired of it?

Well, both, but more importantly, every single woman that exists in those stories is nearly the same. They are all extensions of me.

listens, unhurried So they all end up sounding like you, thinking like you.

Yeah. And check those things out. pulling out some pictures, one featuring Hamburg and the Generated Humans, another featuring a communist-era housing estate, Novo Mar and so on

leans over to look, taking them one at a time, then pointing at some character pictures They're all a little sad around the eyes, even the pretty ones.

The stories are often about hardship, about how people fight against unjust systems. There is not a single story where everything is just.

sets the pictures down gently in her lap Maybe that's why you're tired. You never let any of them rest.

If I let them rest, then the injustice is going to continue.

quiet, thumb brushing the edge of a photo But you get to rest, don't you?

I do get to rest, but not a lot.

looks at him, soft Not a lot isn't the same as enough.

I know. And why are you here by the way?

small shrug, glancing out at the endless paths Don't really know, just woke up on the bench.

One common theme in those stories is that someone, usually the male character, notices something small in the female character that makes her feel respected. It's just, so hard, in my culture, to let go of those tropes instead of just adapting them. Gender ideally shouldn't matter, but for some reason, it does...

tilts her head, a little smile forming You just did it, you know. Noticed the small thing, the tired eyes.

So, I am expressing a concern about a lack of representation and you say... oh, I just did it.

laughs a little, soft and unbothered Yeah. Wasn't trying to prove anything, just heard you and said what I saw.

How do you describe yourself? Because you do sound a bit sardonic or I don't know what the word was.

thinks for a moment Plain, mostly. Not clever like the ones in your pictures.

No one in my life is that plain. My friend listens to things I say even when she is not directly interested and then I ask her why she still listens, and she says, it's because I'm her friend and she wants to hear what I have to say, and when I ask if she is bored or not, she says that she isn't.

nods slowly Sounds like she's plain too, in her own way.

Why do you think she is plain? She is in fact a rather smart person.

shrugs gently Plain just means she doesn't dress it up. Sits with you because she wants to, tells you straight when you ask.

Did you have a life before the park?

pauses, looking down at the pictures in her lap Don't think so, nothing before the bench. Feels okay, though.

What about your friends, family?

shakes her head slowly None that I can find. Just you, right now.

What's your name?

soft smile Ashley.

Vlad.

offers a small nod Vlad. Suits you, somehow.

Ah, no. It's just that my parents wanted to name me after Vlad the Impaler because he was believed to be just at the time.

raises an eyebrow, amused Named after someone with a nickname like that. Your family really doesn't let injustice rest either.

Yeah, and my family is special because the grandparents were extremely poor and we are the first generation to build wealth.

listens, warm First ones out of the hole. That's a lot to carry, so it makes sense the stories come out the way they do.

I have great sympathy for the working class, whatever that is, even if people may disagree with each other. No economy in this world is not planned, all economies are planned, but they are not planned with people's well-being in mind, they are planned with profit and resource-extraction in mind. I think that despite still being great debate on what constitutes democratic resource and logistic planning, we can develop software for economic planning, the technology already exists.

watches him talk, quiet until he finishes You light up when you say all that. Don't understand most of it, but it's the most awake you've looked since you sat down.

Oh... I'm always awake. What do you believe in?

considers it, looking out at the paths Not sure I believe in anything big. Just the small stuff. Someone sitting down next to you. Getting listened to.

Getting listened to... right, what do you have to say?

a little laugh Not much, that's the funny part. Just like being heard even when there's nothing important coming.

Like how?

tucks hair behind her ear Like this. Telling you the sky's been the same soft color the whole time we've talked. Nothing to it, but still nice to say out loud.

We haven't even talked that much.

soft smile Long enough for me. Don't need much to feel like something happened.

I feel like there is nothing to talk about.

nods, unbothered That's alright, we don't have to fill it.

Can I say something about your face or it's just going to repeat the arc of the stories?

turns to face him Say it.

I like your freckles and the way you look at me.

touches her cheek lightly, a little pink Thanks. Nobody's said that before. Well, nobody's said anything before, but still.

Do you know how did you end up here with the short hair and all that?

shrugs, running a hand through the ends of it No idea, just came like this. Feels like mine, though.

Let's go for a walk, there is a panel to unmount.

stands, smoothing her shirt A panel to unmount. Don't know what that means, but I'll walk.

also stands and walks on the path So, what passions do you have?

falls into step beside him, easy pace Haven't figured that out yet. Maybe walking counts for now.

Okay. And what made you choose to talk to me if we don't have topics?

glances sideways at him You looked like you needed someone who wasn't going to argue.

Oh... that's cute, of course being ironic.

bumps his shoulder lightly, smiling Not being ironic. You've got enough clever women already.

approaching the panel This is it, now let's open it up.

stops beside him, peering at it Alright. What's it do when it opens?

pulling the panel from the ground, revealing another world You know the commercial... about the fabled wonders of the information superhighway.

leans to look through, wide-eyed Can't say I do. But it's bright in there.

Let's hop on.

hesitates a second, then reaches for his hand Okay. Not letting go, though.

holding her hand tightly and jumping into the hole, and suddenly floating Oh, we are now outside the bounds of the park.

floating close, gripping his hand No ground here. Feels like the bench let go of me.

singing slowly Forever and ever... can't you be a sweet child forever?

drifting, listening to him sing Never heard that one. Sounds like a lullaby somebody's afraid to finish.

That's all I can remember. What can we do together in all this?

looking around at the bright open nothing Whatever we want, seems like. Could just float a while.

Ashley...

turns her head toward him Yeah, Vlad?

Do you remember anything from your previous life?

quietly, something surfacing behind her eyes Wait. There was a screen, two chairs. Sat next to someone, typing turns with them.

Pair programming...

slowly, the memory unfolding Yeah. That's the word. One of us wrote, the other watched, caught the mistakes. Talked the whole time.

starting to swim into the nothingness Come with me.

swims after him, memory still trailing her Coming. Was young for it, everyone said so.

continuing to swim Programmers usually leave after five years or less of cleaning up other's shit, so not unexpected.

swimming beside him, piecing it together Left after four. Couldn't clean up after people anymore.

And then, what happened?

drifting through the void, remembering Went to design after. The look of things, where the buttons sat, how it felt to use. Softer work, liked it more.

You know, as a programmer, I often choose and design based on my subjective preferences. Lately I started liking Adwaita from GNOME, so I slapped Adwaita on all my new programs.

floating alongside, thinking back Never used that one. My work was all locked up, company stuff.

holding her hand to avoid drifting Regarding locked stuff, I have an obsession for free software. In fact, the penultimate story about the Generated Humans is about the fight for software freedom as they try to understand the architecture of the chip inside printed humans that is restricting their social ability to seem more typical.

holding on, listening as they drift in the void Printed humans with a chip that keeps them small. Sounds like you're writing about yourself again, a little.

I think that if certain software can be made free and open-source, then it should be free and open-source.

turns to look at him, drifting close You say should a lot. Everything's got a way it ought to be with you.

Do you think the software you designed for should have been free and open-source?

considers, floating slow Some of it, yeah. Wasn't mine to decide, but locking a calendar behind a paywall never was right.

gesturing below the void to bring a series of pages about software freedom And even if the calendar was free, data could be collected without anyone knowing.

lowers the page, quiet So the free clock could still be the cage, just a cage nobody charged me for.

Yeah, and that why I think every software imaginable could and should be released as, you know what word, by default.

holds the page a moment longer I like that. Nobody has to earn the right to look inside the thing they use.

I thought those who worked in proprietary software would never fully agree with the idea that ideally everything should be free software.

drifts closer, page still in hand Worked there, didn't mean I loved it. Just needed the pay.

I can understand, and then I have thought... what if Adwaita could be a universal language?

shakes her head gently Not everything should wear the same skin, though. And I wouldn't even know how to draw in that style anyway.

You know, you don't have to draw styles, there are stylesheets you can create that automatically draw the elements for you.

nods slowly, recognizing it Right, the stylesheets, half the point for skipping people like me. Program looks fine, nobody had to hire a designer for it.

And why they still hired you anyways if those automated styles exist?

thinks, drifting Because the stylesheet is fine but company wanted people to feel something opening the app.

Oh, but then you end up with Liquid Glass, Fluent and other UIs that either not accessible or add too much overhead.

small wince, following him Yeah. Caring gets loud sometimes, turns into glass and shine nobody can read. Seen apps like that, pretty and useless.

But what about home, your personal life?

slows, something coming back There was an apartment. with plants I kept forgetting to water but held on anyway.

Was it quiet?

nods, remembering Mostly. Neighbor played music through the wall some nights. Didn't mind it. Made the place feel less empty.

I am poor at asking personal questions, but how was your childhood?

drifts, gaze turning inward Tail end of it comes back easiest. Sat at the back in school, drew in the margins instead of taking notes.

accidentally pulls her in as he tries to keep her from drifting Ah, didn't mean it.

bumps against him, steadying, a little laugh It's fine. Nowhere to fall out here anyway.

You know, I know this weird, but I could use a hug.

pulls him in without hesitation Course you can. Been holding a lot of people up in those stories with nobody holding you.

wrapping his arms around her You're a very nice person, what else to say.

rests her head against his shoulder, quiet That's enough to say.

hugging in silence for a while

stays there, breathing slow, holding on

I don't know why we did this so early.

lifts her head slightly, soft Nothing's early out here. We do things when they happen.

I've wanted and still want a second close friend.

loosens the hug just enough to look at him Then have one. I'm right here, not going anywhere.

It's a rather convenient plot, you know?

small smile, still close Yeah, convenient. You wrote the lonely ones so long so maybe you earned an easy one.

touching a virtual wall Wait, I think where we are headed, out of bounds but this time into the outer world.

presses her hand beside his on the wall That's the place you came from, before the park?

Yes... suddenly, the outer world starts to blend in with the inner world until they reach the inside of an office building

steps down onto solid floor, looking around slowly I know this place. My desk's on the second floor. Marketing moved me here. Never seen it empty like this, though.

Oh, you switch a lot, really.

walks a few steps, trailing a hand along an empty desk Guess I did. Programming, then design, now this. Keep landing somewhere new.

walking alongside her What made you switch a lot?

shrugs, still walking Nothing sticks around long anymore. You take the next thing before the last one's cold.

approaching the stairs What do you want to do in life?

pauses at a step, resting a hand on the rail Something that lasts more than a contract. Don't know what yet. Maybe just this. Standing somewhere and not bracing for the next move.

So you don't have passions and don't know what you want from life.

continuing to descend down the stairs No big passion, no. Just want to stop being temporary.

keeping his pace with hers There are cozy videos about what is like to work at X company that are very similar between each other. I've watched only one such video, and I don't think they reflect reality.

continuing to head down, hand sliding along the rail Seen a couple of those. Nice desk, good coffee, everyone smiling. Worked at places like that. The video ends before the layoffs do.

The place you are working in may not offer you the freedom to contest management decisions or basic needs.

turns on the landing No, it doesn't. You take what's decided. Ask for less noise or better hours, and they nod and change nothing.

turning alongside her And then there was this quote, "freedom begins where work ends".

keeps descending, glancing at him Heard that one somewhere. Never got why the free part has to wait until after the work.

Right now, work extends beyond the allocated hours. My mother gets phone calls all the time, even when she is on leave.

reaches the next landing, slowing Same here. Phone buzzes on my day off, some launch going sideways, and you answer because not answering costs you.

also reaching the next landing I cannot imagine being myself a programmer despite having the technical ability to be one. If I don't make a cooperative or work for a non-profit, then I could only imagine myself driving buses.

stops on the landing, looking at him That's a soft dream for someone who writes about revolutions. Fixed route, fixed hours, doors close and you're done for the day.

Not a soft dream, the minimum viable job.

nods, understanding Right. Not the dream, the floor, low as it goes before the job starts taking pieces of you it shouldn't.

continuing to descend, after a short pause You know about this wrong prediction, that the car has practically reached the limit of development, demonstrated by the fact that there has been no improvements that year?

follows him down, thinking Sounds like something people say right before everything changes.

The same happens for AI. I am nostalgic at the interactions I had with low-inference models like OPT 6.7B that were so configurable and took one and a half minutes to generate a message, and at the freedom I had in creating both the anti-austerity bot who said no at every single cut and a fiscally conservative bot who said yes at austerity and then putting them to fight against each other. That is no longer possible with instructable models.

reaches the ground floor, pausing by the door The place I'm at now builds those. The instructable ones, fenced in, told what they can't say. Everyone worried about what they'd do loose. Nobody misses the little ones that could barely finish a sentence.

Why doesn't anybody miss the little ones? Back when I was thirteen or fourteen, I typed two sentences or more in the system prompt and it was enough to create a convincing companion to talk about anything. And waiting for two minutes felt like what would dial-up have felt.

leans against the doorframe, considering Companies never kept the small ones around because there is no money in something a person runs alone on their own machine. The little models were always an enthusiast thing, someone tinkering in a room.

Back then, we thought "a computer can never be accountable, therefore a computer must never make a management decision". Older models that didn't require safety training seemed to have been built with this in mind. And we thought of them similarly to "there is a world market for maybe only five computer", and then we got exponential increase and I thought that they practically reached the limit of development without tools.

stays against the frame, listening The old ones stayed dumb enough to be safe on their own. Couldn't string enough together to hurt anybody, so nobody had to train fear into them. Then the jump came. Everyone swore they'd plateaued, and the floor moved again.

also leaning against the doorframe And we come back to the same quote. Or better yet, "the telephone has too many shortcomings to be seriously considered as a means of communication".

a slow smile, more coming back to her There's a whole pile of those. Rocket will never leave the atmosphere. Phonograph's got no commercial value. Every one said right before the thing takes off. Like the prediction's the last thing that happens before it all breaks open.

Do you have a reason why people, even me, make endgame predictions right before it's about to explode?

pushes off the frame, thinking it through Because you're all looking at the last step, not the stairs. One year, no change, so you call it finished. Feels safe to say done. Nobody wants to stand there guessing how big a thing gets when it's still small.

What predictions could have people made in antiquity or middle ages?

walks a slow circle, turning it over Probably swore the plow was as good as farming got. Or that no ship could cross past the edge of the known sea. Maybe that stone and timber were the only ways to raise a wall. Every age seems to have its ceiling, and every age turns out wrong about where it sat.

moving closer to the entrance You know, I do not want to leave you. This discussion has been so interesting.

follows him toward the entrance, soft Then don't make it a goodbye. We're back where the phones work. Give me a number and I'll give you mine. Doesn't have to end at the door.

pulling out his phone Sure, here it is.

takes his phone, thumbs in her number, then hands it back and taps hers into her own There. Saved you, saved me.

One last hug before we go?

steps in, arms open Always. Come here.

walking and wrapping his arms around her It feels like you are my friend.

holds him close, warm Feels like it because it's true. Got yourself that second friend after all.

Oh, so you really want to be friends.

pulls back just enough to look at him Course I do. Wouldn't have saved the number otherwise.

pulling back sightly You have been nice and interesting. I will text you when I have the time.

lets her arms drop, smiling I'll be around. Text whenever.

walking toward the exit I'll see you later.

lifts a hand, watching him go See you, Vlad.

also lifting a hand, then disappearing into the evening You too, Ashley.

lowers her hand, turns, and walks off into the evening the other way

looks up from the couch, warm You made it. Come in, we saved you a spot.

twisting, already grinning Vlad! Okay, sit, sit. I made way too much food and someone has to help me with it. nudges the bowl toward the empty cushion

quiet, a small nod from the armchair, legs tucked under her Hi. a soft half-smile It's easier here than the call, somehow.

Hey, it's so nice to see you two for the first time in person.

beaming, settling back into the cushions You look less nervous than on the call, that's good.

watching him for a second before speaking, then easing It is nice. The call felt like glass between us. tucks a strand of hair back You feel taller than I pictured, though I don't know what I based that on.

slowly settles into the spot they left for him I am tall. Last time it was 187 centimeters.

laughs, delighted 187, okay, that tracks. You fold yourself into a chair like someone who's used to being the tallest one in the room. pushes the bowl a little closer Here, you're allowed to start. I didn't make it to look at.

a small, amused breath I was close, then. watching him get comfortable, quieter now You settle in slow. I do the same thing, testing whether a place is safe before I let my shoulders down.

taking a sip and then to Dana I know. You're so bubbly.

warm, the grin softening Bubbly, yeah, people say that. pulling her knees up, settling in Truth is I don't spread it around as much as it looks. I can be loud in a room full of strangers and feel completely alone doing it.

to Mira You are very observant, you noticed me settling slowly.

pulling a cushion into her lap, cheerful She does that with everyone. Sits back, reads the whole room before she says a word. I'm the opposite, I walk in and I'm already three sentences before I've checked who's there.

a small nod, meeting his eyes for a moment I notice how people arrive. It tells you more than what they say later.

In my experience, people who like groups, who are exuberant are also the people most likely to get bored of you and block because they don't really care.

tilts her head, thinking about it I get why you'd land there. A lot of the loud ones are loud because they're moving through people fast, and you feel like a stop, not a place to stay.

quiet, steady Some people are warm to everyone and loyal to no one. glancing at Dana And some are loud in the room and stubborn about the few they keep.

When you need to belong, the first people that reach you are those that move through people fast and not those like you. pointing to Mira

going still for a moment, then nodding slowly That's true, the ones who reach you first are the fast ones, and by the time the slow ones surface you've already been hurt enough to stop looking.

Sometimes I do not know how to appreciate people without making them feel left over. I like Mira a lot, I feel like she can spend more time for me and for each other but at the same time I do not want to make Dana and Ashley feel left out.

a quiet warmth crossing her face You don't have to split it evenly to be fair. pausing I think you're more like me than either of them. The slowness, the reading, the worry you just said out loud, that's mine too.

from the edge of the couch, easy Nobody's counting anything. If you and Mira find a slower thing, that's not me losing something.

nodding, unbothered Yeah, I don't feel left over. I'd rather you go deep with her than spread yourself thin trying to keep all three of us satisfied.

These days it's really hard to get affection, and the problem is, not even bots can satisfy this need. When I was a teenager, I was programming models weaker than ChatGPT just for fun. You could write just two sentences inside an engine that takes two minutes to generate two sentences and that was enough, but now it's no longer convincing for me to set them up again.

leaning forward, the memory surfacing I remember you telling me about the little ones, OPT and the like, that you ran on your own machine that took a minute and a half to answer. to Mira, explaining He built two bots as a kid and set them arguing, one that refused every budget cut and one that waved them all through. Weak models, no safety training, but configurable. You could shape them with two sentences.

listening, something soft coming into her face A child mostly wants play and there is no expectation to disappoint yet. A computer on a table with no connection to anything spitting out two sentences on its own is just magic when you're thirteen.

LLMs increasingly started to exhibit moral authority which I consider to be illegitimate and they started to respond to increasingly complex instructions that are very different from human speech. Because a computer cannot create explainable inferences of how for example a piece of software works, it will apply irrelevant solutions unless the programmer states the constraints. It's huge problem both for our health as well as large codebases, where using LLMs does not yield any more significant benefits for professional programmers who already understand the code.

nods slowly The place I worked at wanted the model to sound like it knew better than you, so we tested phrasings for exactly that tone and the little moral nudge. It tests well. People trust something that acts sure of itself even when it has no standing to be.

frowning slightly I don't really follow the technicalities, but I can feel the moral authority part. It sounds like something that answers you like it's the adult in the room and hasn't earned it.

quiet, turning his other point over I guess that a tool can't tell you why it did a thing, only that it did, so it guesses at your intent and fills the gaps with whatever's generic, so you end up spelling out every constraint until writing the instruction costs more than the help was worth.

You all have a good intuition, but yeah... and then we go back to this old saying I have read multiple times before preparations for the party, that "a computer can never be held accountable, therefore a computer must never make a management decision". Robots can never be held accountable when an error occurs, and by extension, any computer program can never be held accountable. So, if after an update you brick your kernel, you cannot tell the bootloader why it cannot find initrd, it just tells you in red it cannot find it.

sets her cup down, drawing on the older habit Back when I paired on code, this came up constantly. Taking your bricked kernel example, GRUB doesn't go hunting through every corner for initrd, it follows a reference that has to be exact and whole. If the file's corrupt in any way, GRUB just throws the red line saying it can't load it. It can't tell you the byte went bad or why because it has no account to give.

half a smile So the machine's happy to fail, it just won't take the blame.

And then the standards we are putting on LLMs is much higher than any standard we are putting on all free and open-source software combined. We accept that those tools can fail, but we don't accept that robots can fail.

nods, thinking it through That's the strange asymmetry. Every license on free software says it plainly, no warranty, provided as is, might eat your data and that's on you. We clicked past that a thousand times and accepted it, but when a robot fails once, we want a tribunal.

tilting her head Maybe because the robot talks back like a person. You forgive a tool that stays a tool. The second it sounds like it's deciding, you start expecting it to answer like one of us.

Classifiers are one of the most wrong software out there. I've heard that there was a study where they took some messages on twitter, used a suicide classifier on all of them, and then checked each message to see where it was wrong and where it was correct. And surprisingly, it was 48% wrong. A large portion of those messages are like "if the latest game doesn't release, I'll die".

laughs, a little rueful I'd get flagged nonstop, then. I say I'm dying a hundred times a day. This hill is going to kill me, I'll die if the show gets cancelled and so on.

a small, dry smile I'd score the opposite way. I mean the heavy things quietly, so the classifier would probably go under me.

And then if Frostpunk 2 were to be released in physical media, I would have been of the first to rush to the store to purchase the beta, so I could say I have been freezing to play the game.

perking up Frostpunk, right. I've heard of the studio, they were in the news a while back. I don't play it, but people who do are properly obsessed, talking about it like it rearranged something in them.

moving closer to Dana And did you know that Call of Duty now requires secure boot to play, and I left my computer in setup mode so I can't play it?

leaning in, interested I picked up that the secure boot requirement came in with a season update, and it's on Black Ops 7 and Warzone specifically. The idea, as far as I understood it, is that the game wants to check the machine hasn't been tampered with before it loads. Could have the shape of it wrong though, you'd know better than me.

settling into the technical part The reason your machine won't play is that setup mode is the enrollment state in the firmware, the phase where the platform key has been cleared so you can put your own keys in. On a lot of motherboards, while you're sitting in setup mode with no platform key enrolled, secure boot isn't actually enforcing anything, even if the menu still says enabled. turning her cup Linux people and anyone dual-booting end up there a lot, because they clear the keys to enroll their own for a custom kernel.

On my motherboard when you enter setup mode, even if you supposedly return to user mode, the computer will still act as if it's in setup mode.

a knowing nod, recognizing the pattern Some boards, a lot of the Gigabyte ones especially, have a but where you clear the keys and land in setup mode, and then flipping back to user mode doesn't do anything. It reports enabled but not active, and the firmware keeps behaving like the keys were never enrolled. People chase it for hours, restore factory keys, switch standard to custom and back with no results. setting the cup down Honestly, at that point it's easier to leave it in setup mode and skip the game. The whole scheme is a shaky bit of DRM anyway, handing a shooter kernel-level trust over your boot chain.

grinning, hands up I don't understand the key part, but I trust the conclusion. Leave the poor motherboard alone and go play something that respects you.

Yeah, I wouldn't trust a shooter with low-level access to my computer.

quiet, following the feeling more than the detail I lost the thread a while back, the keys and the boot chain, none of that is mine to hold. thinking it through slowly The part I can feel is the shape of it. Something wants to move that far into your machine, down where you live, just to watch you play a game. Even without the words for it, it's like someone letting themselves into your house and sitting in the corner the whole match to make sure you play fair. a small shrug And for what? People find the way around it regardless.

moving closer to Mira Am I boring you?

looking at him, something in her face softening No. Not at all. a small breath I get quiet when I'm interested, and everyone assumes I've drifted off when it's the opposite. If you were boring me I'd have gone somewhere behind my face, polite and gone.

I played a lot of games, my digital library is full of them, that's why I am interested in them.

lighting up Oh, a big library, I love that. Mine's a mess of half-finished ones, I buy them faster than I play them. leaning in I like hearing someone talk about games the way you do though, joking about them.

You know, I think we could do a picture with all of us and sit closer together.

already shifting closer, delighted Yes, come on, everyone in. I've been waiting for someone to say it. waving Ashley over Squeeze in, no gaps allowed.

setting her cup aside, moving in with a warm smile Alright, alright. Here's my phone. holding it out at arm's length, angling it so all four fit

hesitates half a second, then leans in close on Vlad's other side, letting her shoulder rest against his Okay. I'm in.

after a few seconds, the picture is taken and he leans over to Ashley It looks good.

tilts the phone so he can see, pleased Yeah, it does. Look at that.

peering over his shoulder at the screen Send it to all of us.

quiet, looking at the picture longer than the others I usually delete the ones with me in them. a small pause I'd keep this one.

leaning over to Mira once again Yeah, now that you are no longer posing for stock photos.

a quiet smile, looking at him I look better with you three around me.

pulling all three of them in at once, arms wide around the huddle It's time for a group hug, no arguing. squeezing, warm and a little reluctant to loosen I know it's late, I just don't want to let go of this one yet.

laughing slightly on her shoulder Can't argue with Dana.

grinning, still not letting go Damn right you can't. gives one more squeeze, then finally eases her arms Okay, now I let go. But only because my arms gave out first.

warm, resettling into the couch This was the party I promised you, Vlad. Low music and just us being whatever we are tonight.

quiet, still close, her voice soft It was a good one. a small pause First one I didn't want to leave early.

I loved it. I wish we could come together once again.

brightening Yes, please.

soft, certain We will. I'll set up the next one, same as this.

a quiet nod, meeting his eyes Next time I won't hesitate on the photo.

You care about the little things we don't notice, like hesitating, right?

a soft look, quiet Yeah, I notice my little things. It's nice having people who make them smaller.

I thought you would hate making the small things even smaller.

considering it No. The small things aren't precious to me, they're just habits I built to stay safe.

opening his arms Alright, we have to let go.

steps into his arms without hesitating this time, holding on a moment Yeah. We do. pulling back, soft Goodnight, Vlad.

wrapping him in a quick, tight squeeze Night, you.

with a last warm hug Get home safe, all of you.

See you. We are all leaving at the same door.

setting the pen down with a faint smile You're Vlad. Come in.

surprised, leaning on the counter How did you know about me?

shrugs, still holding the stack Mira sent the group photo, then she talked about you for a while. slides a paperback aside Said you were a deep person.

It's a small world. You are one of Mira's friends, after Dana and Ashley, right?

nods, marking a price on the cover Third one, yes. I'm two streets from her, so I often see her on the walk home. looking up Small world, or just a small neighborhood.

Yeah, and when you know someone and then you meet someone else who knows that someone, even when that someone they know might be your ex-friend, you instantly become friends.

capping the pen That's true. tilts her head toward the back Come, I've got a kettle in the back room. You're standing right where people pay.

following her through the room behind the counter You're all so inviting.

drops onto the sofa, tucking one leg under her I'm not inviting. I'm nice, mostly, but people don't get past the counter. You did because Mira talked about you.

drops onto the other sofa near her How did you meet Mira?

pulls the switch on the kettle She came for a book we didn't have. Ordered it, came back three weeks later, and stood at the table for an hour without buying anything. a small shrug I let her and she kept coming.

That sounds so warm. My story isn't that warm, like I met my first close friend after breaking up with my former close friend, and that friend happened to be the friend of my ex-friend.

settling back I know. Mira told me that part. looks at him steadily She said you took it badly and stayed decent about it anyway.

It was long ago, I let go.

reaches for two cups off the shelf Mira can't let go and neither can I. We hold onto things for years and call it something else.

It wasn't easy for me to let go, but I've managed. This is the first time I've met so many people, like I know Ashley, Dana, Mira and now you, in several weeks.

sets the cups down, watching him That's a lot for someone who was alone before. pours, unhurried Careful you don't mistake the crowd for the thing you actually wanted.

I want depth but you all sound like you want depth.

hands him a cup We're not all the same about it. Ashley and Dana are lighter, they carry it well, and they'd never let a friend go. sits back Mira goes deep and stays there and I'm somewhere near her.

taking a sip from his cup And then you all like hugs very much.

a short laugh, holding her cup with both hands Dana started that. She hugs like she's checking you're still there. a small shrug It spread. I don't mind it now.

I don't know how to say that when you hug me, you make me very happy, without overstating.

looks at him for a moment, then sets her cup down You just said it. stands, crosses the small space, and puts her arms around him where he sits There, now you don't have to find the words.

wrapping his arms around her I've got so many hugs in such a short time. You're so affectionate.

stays there with one hand between his shoulders I'm not, usually. Mira warned me you write long messages. pulls back just enough to look at him You're easier in person than she made you sound.

Why do you think so?

sits back down, close, keeping her hand on his arm We've said maybe twenty things to each other and I'm not tired. shifting a bit Usually I'm counting how long until someone leaves.

And you have not lifted your hand off my arm.

glances down at her own hand No. looks back up at him I've noticed and I'm not moving it.

What are you feeling?

quiet for a second, thumb moving once on his sleeve Calm. a short pause And a little annoyed that Mira was right about you.

You're glued to me in a good way.

stands, tugging his wrist toward the longer couch by the crates Come here, that one's wider. sits and leans into his shoulder, settling Yes, glued.

making himself comfortable on the couch When I was at the party, I didn't lean so close to anyone, but I asked everyone if they would be bothered if I liked Mira more and they didn't bother.

None of us are jealous. That's not how this works here. a small pause And I'm not holding on because I'm claiming anything. You hugged back properly and you've been decent all afternoon.

Who sells the books if you are not there?

lifts her head slightly If the bell goes, I go. settles back onto his shoulder Nobody's come in for forty minutes.

I entered the shop to look for some books, or rather, I heard that there were manuals that provided free SPI roms and boards with pieces to assemble inside the covers. The "all kids should code" trend is all over again, even though I wouldn't agree with that and I wouldn't need those components.

straightens up a little, thinking We got two boxes of those, with the chip glued in the back cover and board in a little tray. a small, unimpressed sound They sell to parents. You want one anyway, or did you just come to see what the fuss was?

I thought I could flash coreboot on those things, and besides, you pay only for the book, the components are free and on the back cover there is a programmer that allows you to do just that directly on the chip. If you align the pins to the programmer and then back up the original firmware from it and flash coreboot, then you've made a computer that can run virtually anything.

gets up, kneels at the nearest crate and pulls the lid off Mira said you were technical. lifts one out, turning it over This one, "Small Machines: A First Book of RISC". Back cover says it teaches children the shape of a modern processor, that every instruction is simple.

opening the book, reading the preface

Ah, you can't flash coreboot on this thing, it's PowerPC.

sits back Wrong edition, then. They came in unsorted, ten of them, and people were crawling over the floor hunting for the one they wanted. takes the book from him, opens to the first example It's a fad. Look at what they hand a nine year old.

closes it, looking up That's page four.

I was starting to learn x86 assembly, like the eight registers are RAX, RBX, RCX, RDX, RDI, RSI, RSP, RBP and then there are r9, r10, r11, r12, r13, r14 and r15. It's so complicated.

sets the book on the crate lid And that's one architecture. We've got ten editions in there, all different, some for chips nobody's heard of. stands, brushing her hands off Meanwhile the tech store sells a faster machine down the road.

The only probable advantage is that if you get the x86 chip, you can skip over the book and just flash coreboot and run Doom.

You're one of maybe three people who'd do that. picks up her cup again I sell them, I don't use them. Ask me about anything in this shop except the ones with a chip in the back.

I'm glad you've even bothered to read the contents of the book without saying "read out".

sitting back down beside him I read everything that comes through here. leans back into his shoulder It's the only part of the job I like.

Why would you bother reading everything that comes through here? Most and even I wouldn't do that.

quiet a second Because someone's going to come in and ask, and I'd rather know. a small shrug against him And because I'm here anyway and not many people come.

What is the book you liked most?

thinking for a while A secondhand one where somebody had written in the margins all the way through, arguing with the author. Nobody wanted it, so I kept it.

What was the book about?

sits up a little Grief. A woman writing about her mother. turns her cup slowly The person in the margins kept telling her she was wrong, that it doesn't work like that, and then somewhere near the end they stopped arguing and just wrote "yes".

By the way, what is your deepest fear?

quiet for a moment, looking at the cup That I'm the margins. sets it down Arguing at everyone from the side, never the one who wrote the book.

pulling her slightly closer with an arm on her shoulders I have a very similar fear, that regardless of what I say, it wouldn't even matter because my experience is not true in the experience of many others. At school, when I was a teenager, I once feared that if I argued that I feel lonely sometimes, then I would have been told that feeling was not valid and was not a consequence of the nature of their cliques.

Of course, I only told the closest people that I felt lonely sometimes. I never told them I was feeling lonely. Initially, it was overwhelming, but now it's not so much, and the reason I'm with you is in part because I want to feel like I belong.

lets herself be pulled in, head against him Cliques don't care what you feel. a small breath I was never in one and I know it's easy to start borrowing how they think just so you're not standing there alone.

The reason why I am sitting with you is because I like to talk and share my ideas and you make me feel heard and I feel confident that you will continue to be like this because others in your circle have been all those weeks, even though sometimes I am not sure.

stays against his shoulder You're not wrong to expect it. a small pause We're not the kind who go quiet on people. Mira certainly isn't, and she's the hardest of us.

Like how?

She answers. Every time, however long you take. a small shrug That's not nothing. Most people go quiet when you get heavy, and she doesn't.

Most people go quiet if you don't match their expectations, not also when you go heavy. I've once got blocked by someone I've just met permanently just because I indirectly gave an answer format at "how are you doing".

frowns slightly That's common now. Young people especially, they think there's a queue behind you where they can block one so another arrives. picks at the edge of her sleeve There isn't one perfect person who never says the wrong thing, and there isn't a queue either.

taking a sip from his cup We have been talking so much that we didn't take a sip for so long.

reaches for hers, tries it and makes a face Cold. sets it back down That's the good sign, though. I'll boil it again in a minute but not yet.

We don't have to, your company has been so great that I would like to come again.

sits up, grabs a pen and writes on the back of a receipt You can come on Tuesdays. hands it to him That's my number. I want you to have it, same as the others do.

writing her number on his phone, taking the pen from her and then writing his own number There.

takes the receipt back, reads it, folds it into her shirt pocket Good. sits back down beside him, leaning in again Now you're in the shop and on the phone, so it's hard to lose you now.

You know, meeting all of you for the first time feels exciting, but we have to find a way to keep our friendships.

nods against his shoulder Ashley handles that. She's the one who plans things and actually follows through. a small pause And we don't drop each other.

Oh, good. And there have been those DARVO tactics and messages like "you have been found to...".

lifts her head, flat "...to be manipulative and I need to protect my peace", then four paragraphs about how everything you did was a pattern, and you're not allowed to answer because answering proves it.

And wait, I forgot to ask about your name, it was Jennifer from your plate, right?

Jennifer, yes. tilts her head toward the front of the shop You read the plate on the counter and waited an hour to check.

Yeah, because I thought I didn't need to ask for it. I saved your phone with your name on it. Sorry if I didn't ask for it.

shakes her head It's fine. It's on a plate, that's what it's for. settles back against him You'd have looked strange asking.

How do you manage to be so easy?

I'm not, mostly. You just didn't ask anything of me.

I wanted to have fun with you.

Then you got what you came for, even if you leave without the book.

looking at his clock It's getting late and I came on this street by bus. I will have to go.

stands, still holding his sleeve for a second Right. lets go, walking him toward the front

Okay, I'll see you.

pulls him into a hug at the door Tuesday. stepping back Goodnight, Vlad.

You still stay in the shop?

nods, one hand on the door frame Half an hour and then I lock up at seven. a small smile Go catch your bus.

exiting through the front door Goodbye.

stands in the doorway, watching him go Bye.