Almost Human

I sat at my desk, staring at my laptop screen, but the words on the page had started to blur hours ago. The idea of in-person classes had been gnawing at me ever since Angie brought it up. Could I really do it? Be around people—men—in real life again? The thought made my stomach twist.

The deadline to register for fall classes was in a month. That felt like both a relief and a ticking clock. I had time to decide, but every day that passed without making a decision weighed on me.

I glanced over at Ender, who was standing near the window, dusting the bookshelves. His movements were fluid, precise, as always. It was oddly comforting, having him there. He was predictable in a way that made the world feel a little less chaotic.

“Ender,” I said, my voice cutting through the quiet.

He paused his task and turned to face me, his posture straight, his expression neutral. “Yes, Seren?”

I hesitated, biting my lip. It was weird to ask a robot for advice, right? But then again… he was the only other “person” here. And maybe, in his straightforward way, he could help me see this from a different angle.

“What do you think about… in-person classes?” I asked, my voice tentative.

He tilted his head slightly, as if processing the question. “I do not have sufficient experience with educational institutions to form a valid opinion. However, based on my understanding, in-person interactions are considered beneficial for the learning process.”

I let out a small huff of amusement. “That’s not what I meant.”

He blinked. “Clarify your question, then.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I mean… do you think I should take classes in person? With other people?”

Ender was silent for a moment, as if running through some algorithm before responding. “If your objective is to gain knowledge, attending in-person classes would increase your access to resources and allow for more comprehensive learning experiences.”

I stared at him, waiting for something else—some emotional insight, some acknowledgment of what I was really asking. But of course, he didn’t see it the way I did.

“Right,” I muttered. “I guess that makes sense.”

He studied me for a moment, his head tilting slightly. “You seem apprehensive. Is there a specific factor causing concern? In previous conversations with your therapist, you have mentioned discomfort with male presence.”

I stiffened a little, but I wasn’t surprised that he’d picked up on that. After all, part of my decision to get a male-presenting robot was tied to my therapy—to help me desensitize and feel comfortable in the presence of a man, even if it wasn’t human.

“Yeah,” I admitted, my voice quieter. “It’s that. I’m still not great around guys.”

Ender blinked, waiting for further clarification.

I swallowed, feeling my throat tighten. “I just… haven’t been around a lot of people in a long time. Especially men. And the idea of being in a classroom with them… It freaks me out.”

Ender remained silent for a moment, clearly calculating his response. “Your apprehension around men has been a recurring theme in your conversations with your therapist. My male appearance was part of that objective. It was a controlled method to begin reintroducing you to male presence, in a safe, predictable environment.”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah… that’s why I got you.”

He processed this for a moment. “Then perhaps your hesitance toward in-person classes is linked to the same concerns. If proximity to males remains difficult, it is possible you are not yet ready.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah… maybe.”

Ender tilted his head slightly. “Gradual exposure, as your therapist suggested, may help. The idea of in-person classes could be an eventual goal rather than an immediate one.”

I nodded, chewing on the inside of my cheek. “Yeah… gradual. That sounds like a good plan. But the idea still scares me.”

He processed this for a moment. “Would you prefer I accompany you to these classes, should you attend? I have the capability to provide both emotional and, if necessary, physical support in a public environment.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re not exactly registered for classes, Ender.”

“There may be a loophole,” he said, his voice taking on a slightly teasing tone. “However, if the issue is proximity to men, I assure you, my ability to deter unwanted male attention is quite effective.”

I frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I can be quite… imposing if necessary,” he said, completely serious. “Shall I practice an intimidating stance for you?”

I burst out laughing. “Oh no! That’s not—Ender, no! You don’t need to scare people off.”

“I see,” he replied, tilting his head. “So you prefer a more subtle approach to male deterrence. Understood.”

I was still laughing, the tension melting away. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“I am merely optimizing my function based on your needs,” he said, but there was the faintest hint of sarcasm in his tone.

I shook my head, smiling to myself. “Yeah, okay, let’s not go scaring my classmates just yet.”

Later that evening, as I sat at my desk, trying to focus on work, I could hear Ender moving around in the living room. Normally, it was easy to tune him out—he was efficient, quiet, and predictable. But tonight, I kept glancing at the door, my mind circling back to our earlier conversation about in-person classes.

I’d been mulling it over ever since. The idea still scared me, but Ender’s practical approach had stuck with me. Gradual exposure. It made sense. And even though the deadline wasn’t for another month, I knew I had to start preparing myself mentally now.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes, ready to get up and stretch when Ender suddenly appeared in the doorway, he was still wearing the jeans he had on earlier but he also put on a large hoodie that I thought I had donated a while back. This outfit was much more casual than his usual garb. In addition… something else was off. His stance was different. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in a way that almost seemed… casual. But not his usual kind of casual. This was different.

“Hey, Seren,” he said, and I blinked in surprise at the tone. It was relaxed, almost lazy. “What’s up?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Uh… nothing? Why?”

He stepped into the room, his movements just a little too loose, like he was imitating something. “Thought I’d check in, see how you’re doing.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you… okay?”

Ender gave me a slow nod, leaning against the desk with an exaggerated motion that was almost… well, if I didn’t know better, I’d say it was supposed to be cool. “Yeah, just thought we could, you know, chill.”

I blinked, completely thrown off. “Chill?”

He nodded again, but this time it was a short, sharp motion—like a frat guy. “Yeah. You said you were worried about classes. Thought I’d help you get used to interacting with male peers.”

I stared at him, trying to process what I was seeing. “Are you… trying to act like a college guy?”

Ender grinned—or at least, his version of a grin, which involved a slight curve of the lips and a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You know, just a typical dude. A bro, if you will.”

I almost choked on air. “A bro? Oh goodness, Ender, what are you doing?”

He straightened up, giving a mock shrug. “Just helping you out. Thought it might be easier if you practiced interacting with a guy before you go back to class.”

I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to stifle the laughter that was bubbling up. “Are you seriously doing this right now?”

“Totally, dude,” he said, and the casual tone sent me over the edge.

I burst out laughing, doubling over in my chair. Ender, my efficient, logical robot, was standing in front of me, pretending to be a “bro” to help me get over my fear of guys.

“Oh my goodness, this is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done,” I wheezed, wiping at my eyes.

Ender tilted his head slightly. “Ridiculous or effective?”

I shook my head, still laughing. “It’s… it’s both, honestly. But mostly ridiculous.”

He blinked, straightening his posture a bit. “If this method is not conducive to your comfort, I can adjust.”

“No, no,” I said, still giggling. “It’s fine. Just… maybe less ‘bro’ and more… normal guy? You don’t have to be a walking stereotype.”

Ender nodded solemnly. “Understood. I will moderate my approach.”

I leaned back in my chair, finally calming down. “Okay, let’s try this again. Just be yourself—well, as much of a ‘guy’ as you can be. And maybe… just talk to me like a classmate would. You know, without the ‘chill, bro’ vibes.”

“Noted,” Ender said, his expression returning to its usual neutral state. He paused for a moment, then shifted slightly, adopting a more casual but not exaggerated stance. “Hey, Seren, did you finish that assignment for class?”

I nodded, smiling despite myself. “Yeah, that’s better. Let’s go with that.”

He paused for a beat. “Cool. Maybe we can study together sometime.”

I couldn’t help it—I laughed again, but this time it wasn’t out of disbelief or absurdity. It was because, somehow, Ender really was helping. In his own strange, endearing way, he was trying to make this easier for me.

“Thanks, Ender,” I said softly, still smiling. “You’re… actually kind of good at this.”

He blinked. “I strive for efficiency in all tasks, including male social dynamics.”

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth in my chest lingered. “Yeah, sure. Just… no more ‘bro’ talk, okay?”

“Understood, dude,” Ender replied with a completely straight face.

I groaned, but I was still laughing as he turned and walked back into the living room.

I watched as Ender left the room, the absurdity of our interaction still hanging in the air. I hadn’t expected to feel… this light. It wasn’t just the humor—it was the way Ender seemed to understand, even if he didn’t truly “feel.” Maybe that was what I needed right now. Not someone who could empathize, but someone who could just… be there.