At nineteen, I would be the first to tell you I have made mistakes. I know what you are thinking, 'how mature for a sophomore in college.' But I promise you that your thought isn't accurate. I'm just your ordinary C+ average student with teenage hormones trying to navigate life to the best of my abilities. Perhaps it is the gravity of what transpired that thrust that recognition to the forefront? Whatever the reason, the truth is I am not proud of what I've done, nor do I feel it can be justified despite having zero inclination I had done it, let alone how I had done it. Not a day passes in which I look into the mirror and see the shame etched onto my face and think, 'How did THIS happen?'
But herein lies my dilemma: If I had the ability to change the past, I know I most definitely would do everything exactly the same way.
Would you?
*
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around; does it make a sound?
The better question is: who the fuck cares?
Okay, the project wasn't as simple as that old conundrum, but that is what my non scientific mind devolved the hypothesis into to make sense of it. Use my brain (the tree?), amplify the waves activity (falling?), send them out using some kind of remote device - Blutooth? - to generate vibrations (sound?) to hopefully cause movement (eh, I have no idea the correlation on this one. I am a C+ student afterall) of a device inside a glass box on the hard plastic folding table... And, apparently, Alyssa Peterson cares.
I'm not sure if I felt lucky or unlucky having Alyssa as my lab partner. Sure she's an absolute genius and doing all the work, but since Professor Tisdale has been preoccupied trying to perfect something to do with imprinting - hey, if it wasn't going to be on an exam, why should I pay attention? - with grant money from the school, it didn't matter what we turned in, we were going to pass (and the only reason I signed up for Introduction to Neuroscience as my science class this semester). Did that stop Alyssa Peterson from going all out to try to impress our Professor who didn't give a shit?
It did not.
So instead of throwing something together quickly so we can enjoy the perfect late spring Saturday, or still sleeping - did I mention she wanted me at her home at eight in the morning, and since I don't have a car, that meant she picked me up at seven thirty - or even getting ready for the Zeta Alpha Lambda's casino night party tonight, I'm stuck in a makeshift laboratory in the basement of Alyssa's family home sitting in this hard wooden chair getting my hair messed up from this uncomfortable mesh thing with wires sticking out of it that's on top of my head while going blind from staring at this little dot on the computer monitor because she wants to make a career out of science.
For three hours already.
I want to go home; my ass hurts.
"Did it do anything, Josh?"
"Nothing but the little wavering its always been doing."
I mean honestly, every time I stare at the dot on the screen which the computer is registering as the device that Alyssa is staring so intently at (has she even blinked?), the blip does waver a little, but is it because it is actually moving or is it because my eyes become blurry?
"All right, turn up the amplifier, again."
Oh yes, I forgot to tell you that I also had the most important job of turning the dial on the amplifier. This was getting ridiculous.
"Sure," I yawned.
I took hold of the dial and turned it to the right, one whole click. Nothing. I then decided enough was enough and took this project into my own hands. Instead of waiting twenty minutes for Alyssa to tell me to turn it up again, I turned the amplifier to full blast.
And the dot still didn't do anything.
Curiously, however, a second, albeit extremely faint, blip appeared on the screen. What could my mind be connecting to?
Now, I know I wasn't supposed to touch anything but the amplifier dial - Alyssa had made that abundantly clear - but this other dot had nothing to do with the project. I moved the cursor over this phantom pixel and clicked it.
Nothing.
Well, hasn't this been an absolute waste of time. Screw the blip. I leaned forward, resting my chin in my hands and let my mind wander. Might as well, since I can't actually go anywhere... My eyes fell upon my lab partner.
If I had to describe Alyssa in one word, that word would be plain. Brown frizzled hair, big circular glasses, a slightly shorter than average height on a petite frame in frumpy clothes designed to leave everything to the imagination with her speech having a mousy quality that was just an octave under annoying. Still, with a half a semester of being lab partners, I found her drive for excellence was admirable and she seemed nice, funny even, but only when she wasn't trying too hard. I had never seen her with a guy, or a girl for that matter.
It made me wonder, 'What kind of girlfriend would she be? What if she were mine? She would definitely be fiercely loyal, and probably be a little clingy - like draped onto my arm as we walk to show everyone who she's with and not the stalker version - like she's truly happy being in a devoted love... And since she'd be comfortable around me, she would care more about her appearance - hairstyle, make up, and her wardrobe would change to show off as much skin as possible, just for me, her man, while her speech would be more crude and casual instead of clinical. She'd not only be aggressive in the sack, but a complete whore to me, so enthusiastic that her pleasure would come from mine - anything to get me off...'
'Kind of what Lacey Hart would be. The junior fiery red head with styled hair that dresses like a slut with the body to pull it off, yet treats guys like an ant under her high heel, even ones she would be with in a relationship. They were just lucky to be in her vicinity - and to think she wants to use her business and administration degree to work in a human resources department. But I know that venom has to be an act. Once she's corralled by me, she'd be the perfect submissive. A slave to all my whims, begging to please while deriving ungodly pleasure from it...'
'As such would be the case with senior Inés Lopez. My muñequita, my Spanish Harlem Mona Lisa... Long straight black hair down to her luscious ass, chocolate brown eyes on that slender frame, and always in some sort of executive business attire. But she's so high strung and annoyingly talkative to match; one of those girls where you couldn't even sneak a word in a conversation - which makes sense for the future lawyer. She is determined to be the first of her family to not only get accepted into college, but graduate from it, which puts an incredible amount of stress on her shoulders. Not to mention she already has an internship and she hasn't even completed her undergraduate degree. Once I'm in her life, however, she would turn all that drive towards me, I would become her anchor, our closeness will release her anxiety. Whenever anyone talks about that stick up her ass, they will know it is my stick - and I know exactly what to do with that overactive mouth of hers. My version of oral arguements would be like her own little stress reliever exercise, calming her down to the point she would orgasm just from my orgasm, which would allow her to finally be relaxed. She would become more successful with far less stress. In return, she'd be so grateful, she'd be mine forever without even a hint of the family pressure that's a half a country away...'
'Which is exactly what fellow sophomore Charlotte Westgate needs. Blonde hair, blue eyes, hourglass figure, living off her Daddy's fortune... But with me, the liberal arts major would hand it all over to my control. She would be something akin to my pet, allowing me to care for her while she put her degree to good use, being oh so liberal with her body to take care of me in the most debase artistic way, which, in turn, would cause her pleasure just because I was happy... all just to get away from her snobby, high class life.'
'So who would I pick? Why, all of them, of course. All accepting and willing to be in my harem...'
I know what you are thinking ladies - "How am I still single? What a catch!" - says none of you. Hey, it's my daydream, afterall. Not like I have a chance to be with any of those girls, anyway, nor would I treat them like objects, either. My Dad raised me to treat a woman right (respect, honesty, equal partnership) and if that hadn't have taken hold, My Mom would have murdered me on the spot if I had the audacity to act that way to any of my prior girlfriends. Dreams are not reality.
"All right, turn up the amplifier, again."
I broke from my fantasies, almost forgetting I was currently "working."
"All right," I pretended to move the dial, not wanting to rat myself out for already maximizing the amplifier.
Still nothing, but that was, obviously, expected... And my ass was now numb. I had to put an end to this.
I moved the cursor onto the blip that I was supposed to be watching. What's the worst that could happen?
*
"Is everything all right down there?"
The basement door had opened with Alyssa's Mom's (oh, just call me Harriet, she says) voice piercing through the darkness. I heard her try to turn on the light by flipping the switch several times.
If it didn't work once, certainly the second, third, and fourth tries were also going to be futile. Especially with all the lightbulbs shattered - along with anything else that was glass down here. What was the old adage about insanity?
I reached for my cell phone, disregarding that the screen was now cracked, grateful it still worked as I turned on the flashlight.
I hadn't heard a peep from my lab partner in the thirty seconds since my dumb ass did what I was expressly forbidden from doing which caused the - whatever that was - and I was worried. She was right in front of that glass box. I steeled my mind while preparing my body to leap into action if need be. The light shone off to the right before I corrected the position to befall Alyssa. She was still in the same position as before, only now with this really cute dorky smile.
"Alyssa?"
At the mention of her name, Alyssa's arms shot in the air. "It works!" she screamed as she jumped from her seat and into the air. "Ha, ha! It works!" She ran to me and gave me a fierce hug.
"Sweetie, what happened?"
"I was just able to convert brain waves into a manifestation capable of movement," Alyssa responded while squeezing me tighter. "And I have to replace all the lightbulbs."
I sat there feeling awkward. She was happy, her tight embrace nearly strangling me as proof, but I knew she wouldn't be the moment she asks how it happened. I barely put in any effort in reciprocation, putting only one arm around her, my hand barely touching her shoulder.
"Oh, okay, Dear. Just be safe," Harriet shut the door.
Alyssa slowly started to release her grip of my body; her hands seemingly taking several detours as they caressed my back and shoulders. Her eyes found mine and as they did, she leaned in and kissed my cheek. Her smile was an effortless smolder as she finally withdrew. "So what did you do to cause it to function?"
Shit, here comes the firing squad.
*
