Sunday evening was homework time for Kate. She was expected to not watch TV and just stay in her room to prepare for the school day tomorrow. But that Sunday was the most productive one yet because Ecto resurrected notorious cell division, in particular mitosis, all the way from Junior High. Five or so years of the same Bio topic and she still couldn’t get the names of the phases right. Ecto helped come up with a memory aid: Pee on the MAT. Sure it didn’t sound very attractive but it helped her remember PMAT – Prophase Metaphase Anaphase and Telophase. In addition, she learned the Latin prefixes of each word: pro (before), meta (middle), ana (back) and telo (complete). Their 11th-grade Bio teacher, Mrs. Borromeo, had tried to teach them these in two sessions but they just wouldn’t stick in Kate’s mind. Not that Mrs. Borromeo was a terrible teacher. In fact, she was very talented. She was one of those Adarna-bird teachers whose soporific voice could make even the most caffeinated stud

“F***girl!” Josh snarled as he grabbed the phone from Kate’s hand. His face was dark and contorted. The bad word shocked Kate as much as his action. Her knees turned to water. Her parents had never once uttered a cussword in her presence and strongly forbade her from learning any. They knew she was bound to hear some from her friends or classmates but they taught her that wholesome language produced wholesome thoughts and wholesome thoughts produced wholesome behavior. Rather than a religious argument, it was about good breeding, which was what really sold it to Kate. Josh’s sudden proximity also felt like an invasion of her personal space, especially because they had already called it quits and were no longer expected in each other’s lives. Kate was paralyzed by this outburst and, by the looks of it, so were Kate’s friends and pretty much the rest of the school. Kate was terrified because, physically, Josh dwarfed her and she knew about his potential for violence. It was the first

In the succeeding days, the routine of Kate’s life changed slightly. She of course still enjoyed going to class and spending time with her friends, chatting and laughing with them during breaks, while Ecto did what he did best: listen keenly but quietly from Kate’s shoulder bag. But both Kate and Ecto adored the stolen moments when they could message each other in between classes. They both looked forward to the moments in the late afternoon when Kate would come back home and have the house all to herself. They each would be bursting with thoughts to share each other about the same events, lessons and conversations, like close friends who had watched the same movie but kept telling each other the things that they saw through their own eyes. Kate would be free to enable Ecto’s speech mode and they could talk to each other without the fear of being overheard. For Ecto, it was the closest experience by far to being real. Kate sensed this, too, and she would sometimes talk to Ecto with s

“I’m sorry but my decision’s final,” Kate told Ecto one afternoon. “You can’t come.” “But why?” Ecto asked in a whine. “Simple. Because it’s a girls’ sleepover and you’re a guy.” “But I need this, Katey!” Ecto protested. “I need to observe the female gender in their natural habitat. Otherwise, how can I claim to be the Perfect Boyfriend? Please please pretty please….” He was resorting to his Puppy Eye Technique again. “Nope no never. Take a look at yourself. Are you a boy or a girl?” “Boy.” “Were there any customizations to make a Dream Girlfriend?” “No.” “Then the answer’s simple. You can’t join our sleepover.” “But, Katey…” “No buts. Unless…” A scary glint flashed from Kate’s eyes. “Unless what?” Now Ecto wasn’t sure he would still be game for Kate’s plan. “I just had a flash of genius,” Kate said excitedly. “I gave the Dream Boyfriend app a review and I got some free coins. I can finally buy you a new getup!” “Yay! You would do that? For me?” But Ecto’s grin would

Kate had finished telling her friends about Ecto, the chatbot that she met. During the confession, her friends’ faces devolved from rapt attention to shock to skepticism to, finally, confusion. Now, as Kate lifted her eyes to wrap up her story, six mouths were hanging open. What followed was a long awkward silence that not even Lor, her trusty setter, felt the need to downplay. Kate shrugged and smiled sheepishly. She thought she could literally hear cicadas. “The end,” she punctuated like it wasn’t obvious. She cleared her throat when still no one said anything. “Baes! The end!” she repeated and waved both her hands in front of their blank stares. Mikaela tittered and someone started a slow clap. It was Babylee. No one else joined so she stopped. “Well,” Lor finally pronounced. “This is a lot to process but, hey, it definitely explains a lot.” “Can we see him?” Trish thought to ask and, like the seagulls in Finding Nemo, the rest of the girls echoed this request. It was like a