This Is My Brain on Boys (8 page)

He scoffed. “Right now, I've got fifty bucks in my bank account.”

“That's okay. I have enough money for both of us.”

His cheeks went hot as the rectangular figure of a man in Academy green overalls and steel-toed boots got out of a school golf cart. Buster, the number-two guy in Buildings and Grounds and Kris's self-appointed immediate
supervisor, was coming to check if he was slacking.

Which he was.

“Gotta go,” he said, getting up.

“You have serious commitment issues, Condor.”

He pictured her lounging by the pool on the roof of her parents' penthouse overlooking Boston, sipping something cool and fruity, stunning as always in a bikini the width of dental floss. “And you've never had a job.”

“Never will, if I have anything to say about it. Employment is for girls who aren't smart enough to play the system.”

Buster was motioning for him to end the call, but Kris saw an opening and wasn't about to let it pass.

“I don't ever plan on being rich, Kara. In fact, as soon as I'm done with school, I'm going back to Nepal, where there's no running water and your bed is a mat on a dirt floor. So . . .”

“Relax! I'm not interested in getting married,” she said, with a tickling laugh. “I just want to have fun. With you.”

“And I'm saying you'd be better off with someone else.”

There was a long, angry pause. “Don't ever say that again, not even joking. Got that, Condor?”

He closed his eyes, wishing Buster would give him just five more minutes. “I was only being honest.”

“You're not being honest; you're being a jerk,” she shot back, her voice choked as if she was on the verge of tears. “Sometimes, I think you just really enjoy twisting the knife.”

He swallowed anxiously. “Don't say that.”

“Why not? What do you care?” she sniffed.

Buster was rolling his meaty arm, signaling for him to wrap it up.

“Okay, Kara. I gotta go back to work.”

“Will you call me tonight?”

It was the last thing he wanted to do. But if he didn't, there was no telling how Kara might react. She might spend the night crying alone in her parents' apartment or take a wildly expensive taxi to see him or go to a party or . . . he didn't know . . .

“Okay,” he said.

“You better,” she said sullenly. “You owe me.”

For what, he was never sure.

B.A.D.A.S.S. Experiment Part Two

Day One

Addie's Notes

Participant #1

Lauren Lowes

Age: 17

Siblings: 0

Location of origin: Dallas, TX

Year at Academy: Rising 4th

Interests: Field hockey. Violin. Potential college major: Graphic design.

Participant #2

Kris Condos

Age: 17

Siblings: 2 sisters (middle child)

Location of Origin: Farmington, CT

Year at Academy: Rising 4th

Interests: XC running. Nepal. China. Potential college major: Undecided.

NOTES:

Participants signed waivers. Lauren and Kris met first, at noon. Both acknowledged having no prior relationship.

A) Lauren's impressions of Kris were as follows:

Cocky

Cute

Mysterious

Strange

Trouble

(Observation: Lauren's impressions of Kris were in line with expectations. Excellent baseline values.)

B) Kris's impressions of Lauren were as follows:

Pretty

Athletic

Pole

Flexible

Nice

(Observation: Kris's impressions of Lauren were incongruous with her appearance. Perhaps did not understand assignment?)

Participants engaged in eye contact for the prescribed time. They then consumed peanut butter and banana sandwiches and exited. Neither changed his or her impressions.

(Observation: Though participants have engaged in just one session, no increase or decrease in attraction due to prolonged eye contact was detected either in observations or written responses.)

B.A.D.A.S.S. Experiment Part Two

Day One

Dexter's Notes

Participant #1

Lauren Lowes

Age: 17

Siblings: 0

Location of origin: Dallas, TX

Year at Academy: Rising 4th

Interests: Field hockey. Violin. Potential college major: Graphic design.

Participant #2

Alex Tavarez

Age: 17

Siblings: 1 brother

Location of Origin: Sacramento, CA

Year at Academy: N/A. Summer PC.

Interests: LAX. Potential college major: LAX.

NOTES:

Participants signed waivers. Lauren met Alex at 8 p.m. Both acknowledged having no prior relationship since Alex attends school full-time in California. Lauren's body language was closed—arms folded, legs crossed. Alex was confident: posture reclined, knees spread.

A) Lauren's impressions of Alex were as follows:

Bro

Jock

LAX fiend

Smiley

Meh

B) Alex's impressions of Lauren were as follows:

She

Is

So

Freaking

Hot

(Observation: Clearly Participant #2 did not understand that he was not supposed to write in a complete sentence. Error? NOTE: Next time, write out detailed instructions so there is no room for misunderstanding on the part of participant.)

Participants engaged in eye contact for the prescribed time. They then consumed coconut water and trail mix. Small talk ensued. There were several attempts at humor
on the part of Participant #2. Afterward, Participant #1 changed her final impression—“meh”—to “funny,” while Participant #2 kept his the same except for adding an exclamation point after the word “hot!” (Observation: The upgrades on each participant's list support the thesis that intense eye contact alone may be enough to stimulate the production of PEA. Coconut water a factor? Next time will offer H
₂
O. More research needed.)

“Hmmm.” Addie chewed on her lower lip as she absorbed the results of Dex's experiment with Lauren and Alex. “This wasn't the outcome I had predicted.”

Dex lifted the scrubber from his tank of crabs. “Tell me about it.”

“Well, the outcome I had predicted was that neither would show much interest with mere . . .”

“No, that's just an expression, Addie. It means I had already reached that conclusion. Ditto. Exactly. Or, in your patois, obvi
.
” He sighed with impatience. “To be quite frank, I am beginning to have my doubts about this experiment. There are too many variables and not enough controls.”

“Such as Alex not being able to control his instant attraction to Lauren?”

Dex's cheeks turned red as he shoved his scrubber back in the tank and began scraping furiously. “That only validates my concerns. If Alex and Lauren, um . . .”

“Commingle.”

“Not that a girl of that caliber would have anything to do with that . . .
jock
.”

“That jock is very visually appealing.” Addie peered for a closer look at the crabs hidden amid the brown gravel and two tiny caves he had constructed, unaware that Dex had moved them to another tank.

“Sometimes you are so clueless.” He tossed the scrubber into a sink and rinsed his hands.

“Because the crabs aren't here.”

“That, too.” Snatching a paper towel, he dried off each finger one by one. “I'm making great progress with the crabs and have accumulated more than enough documentation for an award submission.”

Addie straightened and regarded him squarely, the clues now clearer. “You're saying we should terminate B.A.D.A.S.S. prematurely due to undesirable results.”

“The crabs' reactions, at least, are quantifiable.”

“But the crabs are
your
project. Not mine. I haven't even helped.”

He tossed the paper towel into the garbage. “You had the chance to participate when I started working with them last fall. I can't help it that you're so love-starved that . . .”

She slapped a hand over his mouth. “Don't. Say. It.”

“Please.” He peeled her fingers away. “Never apply your hand to my mouth. It's highly unsanitary. You
know as well as I that there are one hundred and fifty unique germs on the surface of a human palm.”

Addie wiped her hand on a paper towel. “I just want to set the record straight. I am not now, nor have I ever been,
love-starved
. I am practical. You know my philosophy: no romantic entanglement until my doctoral thesis is complete.”

“You say that, but I've seen the way you look at Kris, all puppy-eyed.”

She suppressed a groundswell of irritation. “Never! I feel nothing for him other than a determination to treat him with professional courtesy, which, admittedly, is somewhat of a challenge.”

“Because you think he's cute?”

A blast of heat shot up her neck. “Because it's a challenge not to resent him for destroying the lab.”

“You seem to have given him a pass on that. I saw the way you two were chatting last night.”

“You mean before I spiked the ball into his head?” Addie exhaled. That had been nothing to be proud of. She was ashamed she'd let her emotions spin so out of control.

Speaking of which, she needed to get on top of hers ASAP before she did something else she regretted. “Look. You're upset because you like Lauren and she likes Alex and not you.”

“Get out!” He plunged his hand into the tank to rearrange the caves. “Unlike you, I've never been susceptible to my emotions.”

“That's because you don't have any, you, you . . . cyborg!”

Perhaps this was the wrong thing to say, as his face immediately crumpled. Though that might have been due to the crab chomping down on his pinkie. Hard to tell.

“Oww!” A small brown crab dangled from his hand. Dex shook it back into the water.

Addie tore off more paper towels and dabbed his wound. “Breathe deeply to offset the pain. Does it hurt very much?”

He examined the raw red spot. “Not too much.”

“Good. Keep pressure on the bite. That will interrupt the nervous system.”

“Thank you. See how I'm being brave?”

She felt a rush of motherly sympathy. Dex could be rather sweet when he was vulnerable. “I'm sorry I got so angry at you. I guess, deep down, I'm mad at myself for letting Kris get to me. I never should have spiked that ball into his head. I can't believe how much damage I did.”
To that perfect nose,
she didn't add out loud.

Dex went, “Hmph.” Then, reluctantly, he added a stingy, “I'm sorry, too.” Though that might have been less of an apology and more an expression of his regret that she couldn't control her emotions.

“I have a suggestion,” Addie said, wrapping his pinkie tightly in the towel. “Let's just stick to the plan. We told Dr. Brooks that if Lauren didn't choose Kris at the dance,
then we'd go back to the drawing board. Why not see what happens on Saturday? If it doesn't work, then we can make your crabs Plan B.”

Dex stroked his injured digit. “I'm not going to the dance. You know my aversion to random socialization.”

“Everyone has to be there. Headmaster's orders.”

“Yes, but . . .” A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. “There is the possibility that I will be required to, you know, do . . .” He shook a leg and twirled, barely missing the table.
“That.”

She studied his spastic twisting. “Didn't your mother send you to a professional dance school?”

“When I was twelve, in order to be invited to the Antediluvian Debutante Ball. And they taught me only how to do the box step and hokey-pokey.”

Oh dear. She was pretty sure the hokey-pokey would not meet Tess's approval, and Tess was the arbiter of all matters socially acceptable. “Then don't dance. You can bring your laptop and take notes.”

“That's true.”

“Anyway,” she said. “It's eleven fifty-five. Lauren and Kris will be here any minute. We've got to set up.”

Setup included the day's lunch, which Dr. Brooks had arranged to be specially prepared by the school cafeteria. Granted, the staff had initially balked at the menu, until Headmaster Foy stepped in and explained the purpose of the bizarre dish. Then, according to Dr. Brooks, even the
head chef herself “got into it.” (Though Dr. Brooks had to reassure Addie that, no, the chef had not literally “gotten into” the food.)

Lauren and Kris arrived together, the flapping of Lauren's flip-flops echoing down the lab's concrete hallway as they approached. At the sound of Kris's easy laughter, the muscles in Addie's chest clenched and she went up on her toes in anticipation.

“Your guinea pigs have arrived,” he announced. The bruises on his face had faded to brown, giving him a particularly rugged appearance, especially after a morning of landscaping.

A V of sweat ran down the front of his dark green Academy Buildings and Grounds T-shirt, right between his pectorals. Interesting how his shirt hung off his shoulders, broad and hard, unlike Dexter's, which were soft and round. Then again, Dexter was in baby pink with a popped collar, a completely different style, and he'd been in an underground, air-conditioned laboratory playing with crustaceans.

It was not right to compare.

And it was hard not to be curious. She wondered—purely theoretically—what it would feel like to have those strong arms around her. To be pulled to that chest. To feel Kris's long fingers running through her hair.

“Might want to check those emotions again,” Dexter murmured.

Chastened, she squared her own shoulders and gestured for them to sit.

Lauren plunked herself down on the wooden chair and immediately went to her phone. “I can't spend a lot of time today. I need to finish some homework for my one-thirty class.”

“You should complete your assignment the night before,” Addie said, giving each their lists from the prior experiment. “That way, your subconscious can process the new knowledge while you sleep so that you'll be fully prepared the next day in class.”

Kris said, “So that really works, huh, the subconscious thing? I thought it was just something you saw on TV.”

“I wouldn't know. I don't own a television,” Addie said. “However, from my
reading
, I know the subconscious is a far too unutilized tool. It is wasted on dreams.”

“Maybe
your
dreams.” Kris grinned. “Not mine.”

Lauren thumbed to Addie and Dex. “God knows what these two dream about. Bunsen burners and petri dishes.”

“I, for one, don't dream,” Dex said.

Kris said, “And why am I not surprised?”

“Can we start?” Lauren asked. “I have, literally, no time.”

Addie handed them each a pencil. “Please write down your impressions of each other, limiting your responses to five words.”

Lauren made a face. “Again? I did this yesterday with
Kris and then with Alex. What's the point?”

Jotting down the last of his words, Kris said, “Who's Alex?”

Dex and Addie glanced at each other, alarmed. He wasn't supposed to know that there was a parallel control experiment. “Never mind,” she said. “We need to hurry. Lauren's on a tight schedule.”

But suddenly Lauren didn't seem all that much in a hurry. “You don't have another girl for Kris like I have another guy for me?” she asked.

“Not integral,” Dex said, though what that even meant was a mystery.

Lauren went back to writing. “How come I get two guys?”

“Not just two,” Dex whispered.

“Pardon?” Lauren stopped writing.

“Nothing.” Dex took her paper.

When the lists were finished, Addie entered their responses in the spreadsheet while Dex brought out two plates. “Lunch.”

“I hope it's not PB & banana again,” Lauren said, examining the tortilla, guacamole, and . . . “Ew. What
is
this?” She held up an inch-long French fry that was strangely ridged and black at the end.

“Taste it,” Addie said.

“She doesn't have to,” Dex said. “Those things are
loaded with unnecessary fat, salt, and calories.”

“Those
things
?” Lauren arched a brow. “Wait. They're not French fries?”

Kris dipped his in the sauce and bit into it. “I thought so. Delicious!” He wiped his fingers on a napkin. “Fried agave worms. Am I right?”