My hands itched to do something... anything at all to avoid what they were actually doing.

Sam had one caught in hers, her tongue ever so slightly out as she applied nail polish to my nails.

I normally didn't bother, since the stuff just chipped off no matter how well it was applied, but it was apparently something that both bothered Sam and that girls did during sleepovers.

Playing with makeup (even though I'd been told it was experimenting) and talking about the most outlandish rumors in the school while we did so? Check, that was an actual thing - even if it might be due to having a sleepover with school gossip.

Honestly I didn't care if Amy Schuster had two boyfriends, but it didn't seem right to interrupt. They seemed fine with it, according to all reports, and that was good enough for me; who was I to say how other people should act or live? I could barely handle myself.

Sam looked at her work with a critical eye, a slight frown creasing her forehead. Her hands hadn't been the steadiest, but from what I could tell her work looked alright: blue polish with some lighter blue and yellow streaks of lightning, giving the impression of a stormy sky.

It certainly looked cool, and was a far cry from the more bland jobs on my nails I had done. Even Jeanette, who normally did my nails once she nagged me enough to sit still for it, was paying attention from her chosen place in the corner.

I mean really, my android maid was actually hunched over in clearly incorrect posture, something she was normally dead set against. If she could have stuck her nose in between us, it seems like she would have.

Maggie was still chatting merrily, waiting for her turn. I would be handling that, so I'd been told. All part of the process, I'd also been told. Sam would wait last, and I was pretty sure she wanted me to do her nails as well, which was silly, since I was bad at it.

Supposedly I was supposed to think of my friends and make designs based on what I thought of them, but that way lay madness. Perhaps madness would even be the right way to go? Could I paint small tentacle horrors?

If so, Sam would likely like them. Maybe a little too much.

We were at Maggie's house, and her room was all very much her, from the muted pink walls to the newspapers sporting sensational lead lines of the past. But I bet Sam's room would have a many disturbing surprises for me. She did seem like the type to have horror posters on her walls and hockey masks in her closet.

Maybe that was unfair of me, but Mom had always warned me about the quiet ones. 'stay away from the quiet ones', she had cautioned time and again. Sam was as quiet as they came.

Maybe I was safe though; I doubted Sam wanted to paint my nails before locking me in a basement hole and holding a poodle while telling me what to do.

While I'd been debating the point, Sam had brandished a small bottle of clear sealant from somewhere and snagged my other now dry hand.
I was familiar with the sealant by now of course, made to try and keep such nail jobs as long as possible. The stuff just didn't hold up to things like lubricants, oils, and sticking both your hands into jet engines. Even with gloves, the stuff just didn't hold up.

The pungent smell that erupted from the tiny container once she unscrewed the top smelled different than what I was used to; stronger.
"This will work." Sam assured me, and began painting again, this time with the clear stuff.

I wasn't going to tell her better; we'd see in a few days. My guess it would last until the first time I stuck both hands in the guts of my jet.
Maggie stopped for a moment, and we shared a look. It was clear she was thinking the same thing. Then she gave a tiny shrug. Which was the point really, this wasn't for me - it was for Sam, and in the name of bonding. While I was a part of the other crowd, bonding meant crude jokes, fist and chest bumps, and a lot of yelling "right!", "Let's go!" and "That's it!"

This was another world. At least it seems to work for them. I would reserve judgment on the process.

Sam gave me back one hand, and grabbed the other. At least she was gentle; Jeanette hadn't even reacted.

No, Jeanette was looking from my nails to hers.

Well, it was about bonding, and Jeanette was here on sufferance because I might need her; I'd woke up sick before. It wasn't really sufferance though, because Maggie and Sam both like Jeanette, and Maggie's parents seemed to warm up to her immediately.
Of course that might have just been because my maid was a chaperon that could be depended on to curb our worst impulses, and we wouldn't object to.

I knew I wasn't going to do anything crazy with her here, no matter how that old laptop in the corner that didn't even work anymore beckoned. I'd just leave it all alone, yes indeed.

Maggie's grin widened, as if she knew what I was thinking. Why did people even keep old broken technology lying around? It was silly - just recycle that stuff; it wasn't doing anyone any good just sitting there.

Though Maggie's room certainly wasn't the worst for it. When we had arrived she'd gone upstairs first to 'tidy up'. Judging from what I'd seen after she gave the all clear, the place must have resembled a garbage dump. Sam didn't seem too worried by it, which further cemented the idea.

It was weird to think that girls couldn't be bothered to clean, but there you were. I couldn't throw stones from my glass house anyway, since I didn't know... it wasn't like I had a sister, and the only female role model I did have was my Mom, who fought a mighty war on grime and laziness.

I won of course, but only because I had Jeanette. She and Jeeves were my secret weapons. It also made me feel bad; Maggie and Sam both deserved some more free time, away from cleaning.

But I didn't dare. Even now, I had secret agents parked outside my friends' house, waiting for me to slip up. Giving my friends an android who could serve their every need would certainly count. Even a version lacking many of the better options my bots had would be an issue.
However, what if I made something that wasn't an android? Just a simple bot? A box or an oval, something ergonomic....

"You okay Min?"

"Oh, sure, I'm fine." That had been close. Jeanette had already been reaching a hand out, but Maggie had caught it. They both let the little white lie slide.

I needed to watch that.

I always needed to watch that. I was getting tired of watching that, truth told. I couldn't really tell that truth though, and I couldn't really stop. So

I'd just power through, same as always.
"Don't worry about it. My other laptop works great, we can log onto stuff later," Maggie assured me.

"Social media," Sam added helpfully.

I didn't really do the whole social media thing; I found it distracting. But I guess one night couldn't hurt?

"Sure, but first...." Maggie turned her predatory gaze to Jeanette, who seemed outwardly unruffled. "Time for your nails. Surrender them."

"I do not believe any such paint as you possess will last long in light of my activities."

"That's not an excuse," Maggie countered easily. "This is about bonding, after all, and you're included."

"I am included?"

Maggie looked confused for just a moment, as if the question made no sense at all. "Of course you are. Did you really think we wouldn't include you? You're our friend too."

Jeanette was actually knocked speechless for a moment. She looked almost as if she wanted to object.

I grabbed a hand she'd left near me, and Sam grabbed the other. A little revenge never hurt anyone, and she wouldn't shrug me off. I felt fine now, but Jeanette just wouldn't risk it.

Sam started looking through her paints for something suitable. Maggie tapped my hands. "We got this. Just wave your hands around a bit, make it dry faster."

I did as instructed.

Sam had decided on... black? Why black? Black was boring.

I resolved to trust her, since my friend seemed to be good at this. An odd talent to be sure, skills came in all shapes and sizes. Sam could probably make money from it, if my own nails were any indication.

So the black was done quickly... and Sam grabbed silver next... what the? That was the robot from lost in space, the old fifties show. Just the head, but it was still a clearly recognizable head. The next one was even better; Bender T Rodriguez, from futurama.
Sam kept going, and each nail was a different robot from a science fiction show. Some of the faces, I wasn't sure I knew. She even painted a cylon face complete with red eye. But what was that thing next to it? Some kind of box that looked more like a small garbage can turned upside down than anything else.

Whatever, I'd look it up later. It seemed kind of silly that I, someone who actually built androids regularly, didn't know one of the intellectual ancestors of my bots.

Was that one a dog? Wait, I knew that one. Dr. Who. Sam was killing it.

What could I do for her nails that was as good as what she was doing?

No, there was something. A sort of promise, from one science fiction nerd to another. Something I couldn't even say yet, dare not say yet... but Sam would understand.

My friend finished her own work, none the wiser; Jeanette now sported some great new nail art. I snagged her box of polishes and began my hunt.

I needed three, and by the time I found them, Sam was waiting calmly, her hands splayed out. As if I wasn't new to this.
Still, my hands were steady as I started; I could seat components into circuit boards by hand, so this much was child's play. Dark blue for the background, much like my own nails... and just hints of white and off-white, with some light red and pink.

A small star field, just for Sam. I could see the moment Sam figured it out, that hint of wonder as she searched my eyes, before shutting it down.

The stars looked alright. Nothing like Sam's work, but it was hard to screw up a star.

"Oh, that's neat." Maggie complimented. "Good job. We should preserve that as a wonderful first attempt!"

The phone came out, and pictures were taken. Sam was smiling in them, showing off.

Then another phone went off; my phone. Jeanette examined the picture she took and nodded to herself, clearly satisfied before putting my phone away in her apron.

I knew she had the thing of course, but I didn't know my maid knew how to use the camera on it. She had camera eyes, when she wanted; there was no reason to use a phone.

I wondered briefly what else she knew how to use on my phone, before deciding it didn't matter.

"Alright, now me. What about me?" Maggie asked, all but vibrating in her seat.

I had no idea what to do for Maggie's nails.

No, there was a tired, generic idea that didn't really fit here that I could do. "I got nothing, to be honest. If you're okay with it, I'll just do different flowers?"

Maggie thought about it a minute. "Can you do different flowers?"

A skeptic. I didn't blame her. "I can try and we can find out. Worse comes to worse, we can wash it off and pretend it never happened."

"True. Alright, go for it. I like flowers."

"I'm going to cheat a bit, with your permission. Can we use your laptop?"

Maggie shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Jeanette, can you bring up pictures of flowers? I feel like I'll be able to do better with something to look at."

"Cheater," Sam pouted.

I mean, I admitted it. "I know. Stars are different though. Even the best pictures of stars look like what you're sporting now."

Sam's silence conceded my point. She looked a bit happier at least, and began handing me the polishes she thought I'd need as Jeanette fired up Maggie's new but somehow super slow laptop.

I'd been convinced to leave mine at home of course, because it was wrong to work during a sleepover apparently, but I had to suppress a deep pang of regret, watching that primitive thing boot up. Physical pain, or near enough, waiting the fifteen seconds for the thing to finally show a welcome screen.

Maggie opened her mouth, but Jeanette bypassed it before a sound could be uttered by simply typing in whatever password my friend had. First try, of course.

"How did... no, never mind. I don't want to know."

"It is elementary, once one knows of you and human nature. Do not worry, no one shall learn it from me." Jeanette was coming along nicely; she knew that Maggie did want to know, but not pressure her. At least, I think that was what was going on. It was entirely possible that I was misunderstanding things here - I haven't been that good at reading people lately, if I ever was.

Whatever. It is what it is, and I was who I was. Red, green, brown, black... all the basic colors would be used to make good flowers. The background would be... yellow, to represent the sun. That would leave out some flowers, but that was fine, one couldn't have everything. Daisies were a small price to pay for greatness.

It was easier this time; my stupid fingers seemed to read my mind better, and the flowers turned into something one could recognize. Well, all but the violet, but violets looked a little derpy in the wild anyway, all floppy and lopsided.

That was my story and I was sticking to it.

At least Maggie looked happy. As soon as I finished the last stroke on her pinky, Sam was there with her sealant. Jeanette was also ready with my phone, and once again pictures were taken; even of the violet.

"If anyone asks, someone else did it."

Maggie smiled. "Don't be silly Min, no one is going to say anything bad. If they do, I'll sic Sam on them."

"Rawr." Sam deadpanned. Still, Sam did have something of a no-nonsense rep at school, so I could see her getting violent. Hell, she could probably take me right now, not that I'd tell her that - she might take it the wrong way.

Girls didn't get violent anyway, at least not like guys. Not from what I'd seen. Still, there was a chance the others were still laying in wait for me to slip up somehow. In fact I was certain that was exactly what at least some of them were doing; it was only human nature, right?

"Okay, so what's next?"

"Movies," Sam declared.

Maggie grinned. "Nope! One thing before movies. Fashion."

Oh, there my dread was. Hello again, I thought I'd lost you. "Fashion, how exactly?" Sam didn't seem all that worried.

"Just looking at the latest magazines from around the world, of course. What, did you think we'd all take turns dressing up and parading around or something?"

Sam gave Maggie a quick glare.

Maggie's grin got even wider in response before she continued: "Because you're right, the idea is to try clothes the other thinks will look good on us, and get a new perspective. However, before you got here Sam and I both vetod that. We don't want you doing anything you aren't ready for, so instead we're doing 'pajama fashion'. We all dress up in pj's and look at fashion around the world, with an eye for each other."
"We look at magazines and covers online, and say what we like and don't." Sam simplified with a huff. "She's trying to mess with you."
That was rather touching; I think that was the longest sentence I'd heard Sam say, and it was to put me at ease. It was true I wasn't really ready to parade around in some odd outfit or skimpy thing in front of my friends, and I wasn't sure they were ready about doing the same in front of me, so this would probably be best.

But Maggie clearly had more in mind here, something else she had in mind. Likely to do with the pajamas.

"That's right Min, we do change at least once first. Into our favorite pajamas! Which is why it has been called 'pajama fashion'."

Just as my heart seemed likely to jump out of my throat, Maggie's last words hit my ears like a calming balm: "You've got the bathroom first. Do all the stuff you normally do before bed except brush your teeth, we still have snacks coming for the movies."

It was in a sense of serious relief that I was bundled into the hall with my overnight bag, and the door to Maggie's bedroom shut behind me.

Mrs Johnson was coming down the hall; she looked to be heading our way with a covered tray of goodies. How kind of her - even though I was fairly sure all our snacks had been bought earlier at the store.

She was a tall woman, who seemed to be letting herself go; the old floor creaked a little under her as she made her way down the hall, her long brown hair pinned up and a cheshire smile I could easily recognize from my own experiences with her daughter on her face.
She was still absolutely striking, but her beauty was beginning to fade around the edges into something more ordinary than what it must have been. It was odd, thinking that Maggie might well have been overshadowed by her Mom.

I dodged to the side as the woman, who was well aware of my presence in the hall, all but lunged up to me. "Oh, Minerva. How are you, dear? Everything alright?"

"Yes ma'am, everything is all right. I'm just stepping out to the bathroom before we start movies."

Mrs Johnsons eyes seemed to sparkle in the low light for a moment, but from what I couldn't say. "Please dear, call me Renee, alright? You call me Renee, and if you don't mind I'll call you Min, just like Margaret does."

Maggie hated being called Margaret. But I wanted to get along with Mrs Johnson, so....

"Sure. I'm sorry, but I really should get going here."

Mrs Johnson moved immediately, showing how suspiciously fast she was; the tray's cloth cover hadn't even blown off. "Oh sure thing Minerva dear, the bathroom is free of course, Stewart is downstairs watching the game."

For a moment I was curious. Just a moment, as I walked past. "Which one?"

Mrs Johnson... Renee, waved off the question as if an irritating fly, still with that smile pasted on. "One of them, does it matter?"
I guess it didn't. "No, not really. Thanks again for dinner, Renee."

A squeal from behind me made me picture an unfortunate animal being stepped on, but no it was just Maggie's Mom, beaming away at me. "Think nothing of it, Minerva. Please enjoy your night, I'll be downstairs by the time you're out no doubt. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

What was I to say to that? "I won't Renee, thank you."

Another squeal, and I could have sworn I just heard "so polite!" just barely uttered before Mrs Johnson knocked on her daughter's door.
What was I supposed to be? I'd always been told to be polite, and that had been backed by the iron threat of non-violent violence and disappointment. The disappointment was worse, and it wasn't a big deal to be nice to people, especially if that's how they wanted things. You could always be nice until someone gave you a reason not to be, as my Dad said.

Jeanette hadn't come with me, which was her job, but surely I could get ready for bed without her at least for one night.
The Johnson bathroom was not as big as ours, but it was big enough to dance in, if I were so inclined. Which was a good thing, because stripping and shucking on pajamas did resemble a dance of sorts. A broken out wet wipe (or in this case two) to remove any leftover makeup, a quick brush through my hair, and I was done.

But was I done? I gathered up my jeans and shirt, and the bra people insisted I use all day, and stuffed them back in my bag. My face was clear, so check. My body was covered, so that was a check.

Oh, wait. I reached back in and got my slippers. Jeanette had packed them, so I'd better use them. I doubted the carpeted floors were cold, but you never knew. There, everything but brushing my teeth was done.

The hallway was empty. A good thing, I was sure.

Like an idiot, I knocked first. "Come in Min!"

Maggie grinned at me like always: "What, did you think we were doing something shady in here?"

"I wasn't sure. So, what did your mom actually want?" Surely she hadn't just come up here to deliver snacks. She'd been checking up on us... or checking up on me, making sure I wasn't doing anything shady myself.

Why was Sam looking at me like that? "Did I miss a spot or something?" We'd done the makeup thing before the nails, and so it was possible, but I'd even cleaned around my ears, so....

"Jammies."

"What about them?" I looked down; they seemed fine. I'd been told to bring my favorite ones, and these were it. In blues and bright greens, aliens in flying saucers roamed across the length of them, mixed with a few actual landed grays waving at everyone who could see. No smile on their faces, of course, because they had no mouths, but the happy implications were clear.

They were a little more snug than I liked, really, but both my Mom nor Jeanette would let me just go commando due to my health, so here we were. They covered everything at least; Maggie looked to have an oversized shirt in hand as she got up. "I'll go next."

"Cute." Sam finally said. She was forwning at the snack tray, which was still covered.

I knew the jammies were cute. Thats kind of how jammies worked, when you were going that route. They also probably made me look twelve or something, which was not ideal, but it was better than possibly getting stuffed into something small that covered nothing and was cold besides. I did know what guys thought about these things, after all, and at least some of it had been proven accurate.

"So, what's under the cloth? I was sure we had chips and popcorn and such, but I wasn't aware any of it needed a tray or cloth."

"Moms," Sam said, then shook her head. She twitched aside the cloth to reveal... a familiar looking silver tray under a foil wrapped bundle?
A single layer of foil enclosing something within, and I was certain that tray was from my house; I smelled Jeeves's hand in this. "None of the cheddar popcorn?"

Sam shook her head.

"None of the chips?"

Sam shook her head again.

I turned to Jeanette, and she shrugged at me and gave a little 'im innocent' whistle. Shrugged!
"Sorry; I think they planned this between them. I'm sure if we go downstairs we can find the snacks." I'd bought the things, they were mine, I'd for sure get my use enjoyment out of them.

Sam shrugged herself, twitching the foil around. It was true, Jeeves's snack might well be better. I wasn't giving up yet though, this wasn't supposed to happen, and should not be encouraged.

Maggie came waltzing back in, in nothing more than her oversized shirt. I was a little jealous, since it looked more comfy than my stuff. It wasn't anything worse than her gym outfit, so there was no danger.

Unless it rode up somehow, but I wasn't going there.

Sam got up without another word and retreated to the hall.

Maggie immediately turned to me: "So, was waiting to ask this, but now seems a good time. You okay? You seem distracted in school. Distracted and... sniffy."

Crap, I'd been caught. To come clean, or not come clean? Jeanette had perked up, clearly interested as well. "There is a smell there, running around the school. Some kind of mix of... something, I don't know what it is. It seems to hang around certain spots."

"What kind of smell? Good, bad, stinky? The stinks of the place shouldn't surprise you," Maggie countered.

What kind of a smell? I'd been trying to answer that question myself. "Stinky for sure, but not bad. If I had to say, I'd call it...intriguing."

Admitting that felt wrong, but the sentiment was right.

I could see it. Maggie knew something, somehow. "Right, and it's around the gym? The cafeteria?"

I nodded. It seemed to pop up in both places.

"Hold still for a minute," Maggie requested. Then she got up from her collection of pillows and sheets and plunked herself down next to me; uncomfortably close. "Give it a minute here."

I waited, trying not to guess what she was doing. What did this have to do with school smells?

"You smell anything?"

What, from her? "You smell nice, nothing like the school. Why would you even think that?" I didn't want her getting the wrong idea, thinking I was saying she stunk or something.

Maggie leaned in close for a moment. "Yeah, what I think is, you're smelling unwashed human. Specifically, unwashed human male. Women don't really smell things the same way men do, from what I've seen, and things that don't bother men at all a woman can notice. Now as for your choice of words...."

The door opened, revealing Sam in all her glory. She too had a set of jammies on. A set a bit more baggy than mine, well-worn and obviously loved, with cats of all kinds on them. Well, kittens specifically.

They were cute, and didn't make her look twelve. I flashed her some thumbs up before I realized better, then just rolled with it. "I like them, they look good on you."

Sam was having none of it, however; she looked to Maggie instead and said: "Move."

Maggie was in her place chosen by rite of pillows and sleeping bag, after all. It was weird that Maggie wasn't going to use her bed, but she said she wouldn't while we had to sleep on the floor, back when we arrived.

Noble enough, but now she was in the spot Sam chose, on my left side.

She wasted no time however, jumping up with another of her smiles. "Right, sorry. So, if there are no objections, can we just go to the movies? The whole fashion thing was a little funny at first, but Min, we don't actually do that stuff. Maybe Pam and her crowd do, but we've never."

I knew it, the whole thing was a sham! A joke! A joke at my expense! "So the real plan was to make me change clothes for you the entire time, while I thought it was normal?"

"Okay look, when you say it like that, it sounds bad, we...."

"Not that far," Sam broke in. "Not that far."

I looked over, and the girl, my friend, was down but half reaching me, looking for all the world as if she wanted to hug me. I could see her steel herself and finish the motion.

I was mad, sure, but I wasn't that mad. "Sorry." Sam and Maggie both chorused.

This hug wasn't bad. Jeanette was waiting to see how I'd take it. "Alright, I forgive you both since you came clean, but just know that I'm relying on the both of you for your experience and knowledge, to keep me from looking stupid. Well, more stupid."

I mean, how would I know what girls wanted or liked, if I couldn't ask one? Or at least, someone who had been one since birth? Assuming there was a difference. There seemed to be a difference.

"Fine. Let's go directly to the movies! First one?"

Sam rustled from beside me, clearly perking up. "Action," she said.

Maggie looked to me. Well, with all things forgiven.... "Action sounds great. I don't have any ideas on a title."

"That's fine with me! To the netflix!" Maggie declared. She moved her chair over in front of us, just off to the side, and put her laptop on it in a position of honor.

Jeanette had the foil off to reveal - a platter absolutely covered in still steaming brussel sprouts grilled to the hint of crunchiness, wrapped in bacon of all things. How was it held together? No idea. What did it taste like?

It tasted like wonder, hope, and dreams, I knew from having the treat once before. Jeeves had outdone himself again.

There was some skepticism in my friends, which was odd. they had been there for Jeeves's other creations. Whatever, they'd learn. The platter went on my lap, even as Sam pulled me back into our respective pillow nests.

Maggie had already picked a movie, some silly thing with fast cars and large guns. Which was beyond perfect, really.

I took the first bite of crunchy goodness as the credits began to roll and Maggie dimmed her lights. This seemed nice enough.
Maybe I'd host a sleepover of my own, soon. I think I could do it, now that I knew it was no big deal.