I can smoke

Diletta rested her back on the school wall. The courtyard behind the school was empty. She lit up a cigarette. Her nails were mostly broken, she needed to clip them soon.

She lifted the cigarette and froze. A couple of meters in front of her, there was the new student. The robot. What was her name? Alma... something.

"Are you lost?"

Alma tilted her head to the left. Her pink bob followed the movement in a way that looked too slow.

Those amber eyes unsettled Diletta. And why was she wearing those big round glasses? Robots couldn’t be nearsighted.

Diletta looked away and realized her cigarette had gone out. She lit it again.

"Can I have one?"

Diletta almost jumped. Alma’s voice had some odd reverb, like it had some autotune filter always on. It wasn't unexpected, but still unsettling.

"Can you smoke?" Break a student would have let her in worse trouble than smoking at school.

Alma didn’t answer. Diletta noticed she wasn’t breathing — which she already knew, of course, but she wasn’t even pretending to.

"I can’t give one to you" then continued Diletta, "if you’re not sure"

Alma blinked, and Diletta realized it was the first time she did.

"I can."

Diletta stood there, balancing the cigarette between her fingers, trying to guess if she was lying. Could she?

Finally, she sighed and gave in, taking out another cigarette. She handed it to Alma and reached for her lighter. But the cigarette lit itself up between Alma’s fingers.

Diletta stared at her. She wasn’t lying. She could smoke. Now it looked like she was breathing — at least the necessary needed to inhale and exhale the smoke.

Alma blinked again. And again, with a normal rhythm. Her hair was following her head movements at a normal speed. Even her skin looked different, less glossy and more… greasy. Diletta could swear she could see pores on it.

"Are you even a robot?"

Alma turned towards her. For a moment she stood completely frozen. But then let out the smoke.

"What?"

Her voice was already hoarse.

Diletta smoke in silence until her cigarette was reduced to its filter. She stepped on it.

Alma was looking at her. Studying her, it seemed. She still had to finish her cigarette.

Diletta leaned back on the wall.

"Why did you want to smoke?"

Alma blinked. Slowly, mechanically.

"Why did you want to smoke?"

Her voice was off. And Diletta didn’t understand if she was repeating what she had said or throwing back the question at her.

Alma froze. The cigarette fell from her fingers and went out as it hit the floor.

Diletta waved a hand in front of Alma’s lifeless eyes.

"Damn."

She was broken. Diletta looked around frantically.

No one was there — thankfully.

She ran back into the building, went straight to the classroom, and started to throw her things in the backpack. Those of her classmates who hadn’t gone out for recess stared at her. Diletta ignored them, put on her backpack and left. If she had to get in trouble — and she would have, after they’d check that stupid robot’s memory — then she might as well skip school for the rest of the day.

The sun over Rome was scorching. Diletta stopped at a fountain to wash her face and drink. Maybe she wouldn’t be in much trouble if they saw it was Alma who asked for a cigarette. Did she really think she could smoke? Or she lied? And why on earth she wanted to smoke if she knew it would have broken her?

Diletta straightened up. Well.... it was none of her business, anyway.

She lit another cigarette.