The neon lights of the mall food court buzzed overhead, reflecting off Selena’s new purple leather jacket. She walked with a swagger that she had definitely downloaded from a music video, popping a bubble of pink gum loud enough to startle a passing toddler.

"Okay," Robin said, walking beside them and checking her phone. "That was actually successful. You look less like a glitch and more like the lead singer of a punk band. Good job, team."

"I feel aerodynamic," Selena noted, tugging at the strap of her black cargo pants. "And my charisma stats feel significantly boosted."

Freddie walked slightly behind them, carrying twelve bags of discarded hangers and shoe boxes, feeling exhausted but strangely proud. She actually looks normal, he thought. Well, hot-normal. Which is a dangerous category of normal.

They were nearing the exit when a wall of cologne hit them.

Three guys stepped in front of them, blocking their path. They were wearing matching polo shirts with Greek letters on the chest—the universal uniform of the collegiate 'Bro.'

The one in the middle, slicking back his hair with a practiced motion, grinned at Robin and Selena. "Whoa. Hold up. We saw you guys coming out of Urban Edge. Nice fits."

He pointed a thumb at his chest. "I’m Trevor. This is Chad," he pointed to the guy on his left, who nodded with a smirk, "and that’s Kyle."

Kyle gave a little two-finger wave. "Sup."

"We’re Delta Sig," Trevor continued, stepping closer to Selena and completely ignoring Freddie. "We’re throwing a mixer tonight. You ladies look like you could elevate the vibe. Why don't you ditch the baggage," he gestured vaguely at Freddie, "and come roll with the alphas?"

Selena stopped popping her gum. She tilted her head, scanning their faces with unblinking intensity. "Trevor. Chad. Kyle. Data stored."

"Yeah, you store that data, babe," Chad laughed, reaching out to grab her arm. "Come on, let's go. Don't be shy."

Freddie’s stomach dropped. He stepped forward, panic rising in his chest but knowing he had to do something. "Hey, back off. She’s with us."

Trevor sneered, looking down at Freddie. "Quiet, pledge. The adults are talking." He tightened his grip on Selena’s jacket. "You’re way too hot to be hanging out with a loser like—"

WHAM.

The sound was like a gunshot.
In one fluid motion, Selena had pivoted on her heel. Her leg became a blur of motion, swinging up in a perfect 180-degree arc. Her chunky sneaker stopped exactly one inch from Trevor’s nose. The wind from the kick actually blew his bangs back.

Trevor froze. His hand, which had been holding her jacket, dropped instantly.
Selena held the leg extension, balancing perfectly on one foot, staring him dead in the eyes.

"Correction," Selena said, her voice dropping an octave, sounding terrifyingly robotic. "User Freddie is not a loser. He is the Administrator. And you are unauthorized to touch the hardware."
She slowly lowered her leg.

Trevor swallowed hard, his eyes crossed slightly from focusing on the shoe that almost rearranged his face. He looked at his friends. His friends looked at him.
"She’s crazy," Kyle whispered, backing away.

"Psycho," Chad agreed.
"Let’s go. Let’s go now," Trevor stammered, his face pale. "We’re gonna be late for... uh... weights. Lifting weights."

The three of them turned and sprinted toward the Cinnabon, nearly tripping over each other in their haste.

Robin burst out laughing, clapping her hands. "Oh my god! Did you see his face? That was beautiful! You almost decapitated a frat boy!"

Freddie stood there, heart pounding. He looked at Selena. She blew another bubble, popped it, and smiled at him.

"Did I do it right?" she asked. "I defended the party leader."

Freddie felt a rush of something he rarely felt: confidence. "Yeah, Selena. You did it perfect."

Monday Morning
The high from the mall incident lasted exactly twenty-four hours.

Freddie walked into the Science Building the next morning, Selena marching beside him. The campus reaction was different today. No one was laughing. The "Cool Girl" outfit—the purple jacket, the cargo pants, the attitude—was doing its job. Students parted ways for her, whispering.

"Is that Wilson?"

"Who is that girl?"

"She looks like she rides a motorcycle."

"She looks like she bites."

Freddie walked a little taller. For the first time in his life, he wasn't invisible.

"We are entering the educational dungeon?" Selena asked, looking around the lecture hall.

"Biochemistry Lab," Freddie corrected. "Now, remember the rules. Don't touch the chemicals. Don't drink the beakers. And sit quietly on the stool."

"Understood. Initiating 'Good Student' mode."

They entered the lab. Freddie found his station. Selena sat on a stool in the corner, crossing her legs and glaring at a Bunsen burner like it was a personal enemy.

"Hey, Freddie!"

Freddie looked up. It was Jessica, his lab partner. She was nice, smart, and completely normal. She set her heavy textbook down on the table.

"Ready for the titration experiment?" Jessica asked, smiling. She leaned in close to look at Freddie’s notes. "I completely bombed the pre-lab quiz. Did you get the calculations for the molarity?"

She placed a hand on Freddie’s forearm, just a friendly, casual touch to get his attention.

"Oh, yeah," Freddie stammered, opening his notebook. "It’s actually 0.5 moles, not..."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

Freddie felt a shadow fall over the table.
Jessica stopped talking. She looked up.
Selena was standing right behind her. She wasn't doing anything violent. She was just... staring. Her eyes were wide, unblinking, and devoid of any light. It was the "Yandere Stare"—the look an anime character gives right before they pull out a katana.

"Um... Freddie?" Jessica squeaked, removing her hand from his arm. "Who is this?"

Selena didn't blink. She leaned down, her face inches from Jessica’s ear.

"Proximity Alert," Selena whispered.

"Excuse me?" Jessica leaned back.

"Your physical coordinates are intersecting with User Freddie’s personal space," Selena said, her voice monotone. "Current data suggests you are attempting to initiate a mating ritual. The probability of your success is zero percent."

"Selena!" Freddie hissed, dropping his pipette. "Stop it!"

Selena ignored him. She looked at Jessica’s lab coat. "Your armor is flimsy. Your intelligence stats are average. You are an inferior NPC. Despawn immediately."

Jessica grabbed her textbook, her face pale. "Okay... you know what? I’m gonna go work with Kevin. He’s... safer."

She bolted across the room.

The entire class was staring.

Freddie put his head on the desk. "Why? Why do you do this to me?"

Selena sat back down on her stool, looking pleased. "Threat neutralized. You are welcome, Freddie."

"You can't just threaten people with stats!" Freddie argued as they walked back to the apartment later that afternoon.

"She touched you," Selena said, kicking a pebble. "That is a violation of my exclusive rights. I am the Girlfriend. That comes with exclusivity perks, does it not?"

Freddie stopped. He looked at her. She actually looked... hurt. Beneath the cool outfit and the robotic logic, she looked like a girl who was afraid of being replaced.

"Selena," Freddie softened his tone. "Jessica is just a lab partner. We look at molecules together. That’s it. You don't have to scare people away. I’m not going anywhere."

He reached out and took her hand. "You’re the only one I want to hang out with. Even if you are crazy."

Selena looked at their joined hands. A small, genuine blush appeared on her cheeks. "Oh. I see. My jealousy algorithm was... over-tuned."

"Just a little bit," Freddie smiled.
"I will adjust the sensitivity," she promised, squeezing his hand.

It was a perfect moment. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the campus. They were just a boy and a girl, holding hands, figuring it out.

Then, it happened.

Freddie was looking right at her hand holding his.

Fzzzt.

For a microsecond—shorter than a blink—Selena’s hand didn't look like skin. It looked like a wireframe mesh. Blue grid lines against a black void. It was translucent, glitching out of reality.
Then, instantly, it was skin again.
Freddie blinked, rubbing his eyes. "Whoa. Did you see that?"

Selena tilted her head, looking at him with big, innocent eyes. "See what?"
"Your hand. It... it flickered."

Selena held up her hand, turning it back and forth. The manicure Robin had forced her to get was flawless. "My hardware appears stable. Perhaps you need to upgrade your optical sensors, Freddie. You are tired."

"Yeah," Freddie laughed nervously, though a cold knot formed in his stomach. "Yeah. Just tired. Let’s go home."

He squeezed her hand tighter, suddenly afraid to let go.