by Lee Strauss
“I know it's a long time, and I expect to be a changed man when I get back. I won’t be the same person as I am now. And I'd don't expect her to wait for me. I just don't know if it's fair for me to stay with her now, even though I'm not planning to leave until the new year.”
I unfolded my legs and dropped back onto my pillow, considering. “Have you talked to her about this?”
Ben huffed. "You don't know Janelle that well do you? She'll freak out. Like really. She's already planning our wedding.”
“No way! Please tell me you haven’t proposed!” That would make his decision significantly more tricky.
“No, no. Of course not. I can just tell by the things she says and the hints she drops that she's expecting a future with me. That this is a long-term relationship in her mind.”
“But not in yours?”
“There was a time when I thought maybe she could be the one. But the fact that I'm willing to leave her behind for half a year to find myself is pretty telling isn't it?”
I nodded. “Yes it is. It sounds like you already know what you have to do.”
Ben shifted backward, his legs stretching out long, and he tipped his chin up to the ceiling. “I just hate that I'm going to hurt her.”
This was what I loved about my brother. He was one of the good ones. Not a jerk like all the guys I seemed to be attracted to. Well, all the guys except for Marlow.
Ben rubbed his face and got to his feet. “I’ll do it next week. She’s so excited about the bush party this weekend, I don't want her to crash before then. I’ll wait until Sunday night, then she’ll at least have her studies and stuff, and her friends to distract her from it come Monday morning.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” My heart squeezed a little for the anguish that Janelle was headed for, but this was the way of college life.
Ben stared over at me. “Sorry to dump all my stuff on you. Pretty selfish. I didn't even ask about you. How are you?”
How was I? Academically I was good. My marks were high, I enjoyed my studies, and I liked my professors. Socially things were a little dim. I’d invested so much in my friendship with Teagan that when she was gone there were no girlfriends left behind that I felt close to. I barely knew Nora even now—and she’d been my roommate for nearly a year. I’d lost touch with all my other high school friends and it would be odd to suddenly text them or email them out of the blue.
Really, my only friends were Zed and Marlow, two self-professed science nerds. I snorted softly at the irony. Just last year I would’ve completely overlooked people like them.
My romantic feelings for Marlow aside, I felt the most comfortable in his presence. I could talk to him about anything (except matters of the heart, obviously).
I wanted to tell my brother how I really felt about Marlow. About my emotional conflict. It was hard not having anyone I could trust to talk to about it. I almost formed the words to tell him that I thought I was in love with someone who wasn’t in love with me, but I saw the turmoil in his eyes with his own hard thing that he had to do and I didn't want to add my silly troubles to his real ones.
“Everything's good with me, honestly,” I said, trying to sound sincere. “If there was something up, you’d be the first to know.”
“Great.” He stood and headed for the door. “I'll see you later.”
A new kind of sadness flooded my heart when he left, knowing that by next week I wouldn’t randomly see him on campus visiting his girlfriend.
I decided I didn't like change. Life could really suck.
Chapter Eight
He swore Crystal to secrecy.
“You can’t tell anybody, I mean it!”
“Hey, cool your jets.” She stepped closer and smiled seductively. “I love secrets.”
Crystal oozed sex-appeal—there was a reason she was a media star. He couldn’t believe he was alone with her in his shed. She ran a fingernail along his arm. “I need you to understand how important this is.”
“I understand, Fringe. I think it’s exciting. And sexy. I think you’re sexy.”
His knees literally gave out. Thankfully, the sofa was nearby. Crystal acted as if she didn’t notice how he had melted in her presence. She curled up beside him. Not touching but really, really close.
“How many people know, besides me?”
His body tensed and his heart rate spiked at the warmth of her breath against his neck. His mouth grew dry and he could barely spit out his response. “No one.”
She squealed softly, her eyes bright. Obviously Crystal loved feeling special, and this was no different. He just wasn’t so sure he could trust her. He stared into her beautiful blue eyes. He wanted to trust her. He really wanted to.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” He couldn’t believe he asked her that. The question had bounced noisily around in his head like a trapped fly, but he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
“No, Fringe. I’m conveniently single.”
He noticed she didn’t bother to ask him if he had a girlfriend. Did she think it unlikely or did she just not care?
“Why did you call me Fringe?”
“Because when I first saw you, your hair was longer, in your eyes. What’s your real name?”
He told her and she tried it out. “I like Fringe better. You don’t mind?”
The way she pressed her body against his, she could call him any damn thing she wanted.
They fell into a rapid-fire fairy tale romance where the beautiful princess kissed the ugly frog. Except that Crystal had a way to make him feel desirable and movie star hot. Perhaps somewhere along the way he’d turned into the handsome prince after all.
He started walking taller, shoulders back, surfing a wave of confidence he’d never experienced before. A mischievous grin tugged on his lips.
His new demeanor didn’t go unnoticed. The few friends he had laughed at him, asked him what the hell was wrong with him. He laughed back knowing full well if they knew what he had now—Crystal Morrisette in the flesh!—they’d crap their pants. And that one day they would be stunned when they found out.
Some of them thought he might be manufacturing his own drugs in the lab, a synthetic steroid or something. He let them believe whatever they wanted. Teased them by saying they’d find out when he won The New Scientist Innovation Award.
All the top science students were working on new things and most had registered for the contest. He didn't want anyone to know what he was really doing—he was afraid someone would steal his work, steal his ideas. What he had was brilliant. If he could just perfect it, control it, it would be worth millions. He'd be a millionaire! Crystal would be proud to be seen in public with him then.
For now he was okay to keep things quiet. Crystal insisted their affair remain secret. She said it was special and theirs only. And because she was a media celebrity, going public could ruin her mojo. All her followers wanted her to be single and available, girls and guys both. It was a business move that she stayed single in their eyes. He understood didn't he? Of course he did. But that didn't stop him from wishing he could show her off to his science pals.
He would keep quiet for now, because one day everyone would know.
They made good use of that old sofa in the shed and Crystal often stayed until the early hours of the morning. He’d suggested that she should take him up to her apartment—it would be more comfortable—and it would make him feel like he’d truly been invited into her life. Like they were an actual couple, and not like he was just her current boyfriend du jour, which was what he’d started to feel like.
When Crystal wouldn’t budge, he suggested, “Maybe I should bring a bed in here, I could get one, you know, set it up for us.”
“Nah, this space is too small,” Crystal said. “You need room for your experiment. That's so much more important.” She pressed close to him and nuzzled her nose in his neck. “I like that we have to squeeze together on this sofa. It's fun, isn't it?”
He couldn't disagree with that.
It was part of Crystal’s brand to be bubbly and outgoing, always in a good mood, so when she started to get surly and quiet, he grew concerned. Was this the beginning of the end? Was she tired of him already? Over greasy take-out burgers he asked her, “Is something wrong?”
She pouted, her full bottom lip extending out and released a cute sigh. “Well, it's my work. I'm sort of losing steam. My followers are dropping off and I'm not gaining new followers as quickly as I'd like. I need to keep up momentum in order to gain advertiser interest so that I can make more money.”
He was relieved to hear that her troubles were work related and had nothing to do with him. “Is there anything I can do to help?" He couldn't imagine what, because no one in her life even knew he existed. But he felt as her guy, boyfriend, hook-up—he really didn't know what he was to her—that he should offer.
She tilted her head—smile returning, good mood buoying—and said, “Actually, Fringe, there is.”
Chapter Nine
Marlow
Professor Garvin wrapped up his lecture on the latest experiments in quantum theory. Was Schrödinger's Cat alive if we peeked at it through blurry lenses? Theoretical physicists believed, because of the famous “slit experiment”, that atoms behaved according to probability, and the actual destination couldn’t be determined until someone observed it. So what if the “observer” had bad eyes?
As usual, the professor left the question unanswered for us to draw our own conclusions and present them in a well-argued paper, due next week.
“You can hand your papers in to Mr. Finch,” Prof. Garvin said, motioning to his TA who sat at a small table beside Garvin’s desk. Rudy Finch had a look that Sage would call a “resting bitch face.”
“Don’t forget today is the last day to register for the New Scientist Innovation Award contest. The website is on the board behind me.” Gavin rubbed his bald head and the skin on his forehead collapsed into a row of squiggly lines. “I’m not going to lie and say it’s easy, but with the brilliant minds in this class anything is possible. You won't know if you don't try, and at the very least it will be a dry run for next year. Develop a hypothesis on your own or with a partner.”
Zed snapped shut his textbook dramatically. “Dude, we need to enter.”
He’d get no argument from me. “You got any ideas?”
“Cyborg tech.”
I shook my head. “It’s been done to death.”
“Genetic manipulation for cosmetic purposes.”
“Too unpopular. Would never win.”
“Space toilet?”
I scoffed. “You’re watching too much Big Bang Theory.”
“Fine. You don't like my ideas, give me some of yours, Mr. Ideas-Squasher man.”
A bottle jam formed at the door as students streamed out, and Zed and I were pushed up against Wyatt Banks and Isaac Cavanaugh.
“Are you entering?” Zed asked them.
Wyatt pivoted. “Damn right. Could be life-changing."
Isaac agreed. I had the feeling Isaac agreed with whatever Wyatt said.
“Are you pairing up?” I asked.
Wyatt snickered, “No way. I’m too greedy to share accolades with the likes of him. Are you guys?”
“Yeah,” I said. Zed and I had been together so long, I often felt like we were one person. Siamese twins fused at the brain.
Proving my point, Zed said, “Two heads are better than one.”
We were burped out the door and Zed saluted me before heading in the opposite direction. “We need to brainstorm later.”
“I’ll text you,” I said. My mind was already spinning trying to generate the next great idea. Something physics-based would be best. Or not. I didn’t want to limit myself. I also enjoyed the other sciences even if physics was my favorite.
I walked behind Wyatt, our crowd dispersing, when Harland Payne, coming from the right, head down, bumped into him.
“Hey dumbass!” Wyatt said, giving him a shove. “Watch where you’re going.”
Harland’s face turned beet red, and though his mouth opened, no words came out. A couple of the girls who’d been watching giggled, and Wyatt ran a hand through his hair and smirked.
Jerk.
Harland looked mortified and I felt for him. He’d probably been homeschooled or special tutored and hadn’t learned how to roll with schoolyard bullying.
Everyone dispersed, and I kept walking. All my bullying buttons were pushed and I wished I’d said something, but it all happened so fast. Anything I’d said would’ve only furthered Harland’s embarrassment.
In the distance I caught a glimpse of Sage's dark hair blowing like a flag from underneath a baby blue wool hat, and I stopped short. Her chin was tucked in to her scarf and she had her books and laptop wrapped closely to her chest with arms thickened by her fall jacket.
Seeing her made something in my chest ding. I missed her. Our friendship had been forged in crisis, and now that life had calmed, we didn’t know how to be friends. How was it possible that with so much shared history we had nothing left to talk about?
Maybe I should ask Sage to brainstorm with me? She was into languages and humanities, but above all she was a whiz at math. Who else besides Sage could grab hold of experiences and concepts that others couldn’t even fathom? She was brilliant.
Yes, this was an excellent idea, and not just because it was an excuse to be friends again. I took a step toward her. In my mind I rehearsed my opening lines. “Hey Sage, how's it going? Have you heard about the New Scientist Innovation Award contest? Would you like to help me brainstorm ideas? Maybe we can get a coffee?”
I picked up my pace, but before I could reach her she was intercepted by another student, a guy I didn't know. She seemed genuinely happy to see him and my heart dropped. Shouldn’t surprise me. Sage was a looker, and she was smart and popular. Of course the guys would be after her. I mean what was new about that?
I made a quick sideways crab-step behind a tree before Sage could see me.
I was an idiot. Whatever Sage and I had was over. She’s moved on. I moved on.
I’ve moved on.
As if to prove it to myself, I dug my phone out of my pocket and with cold dry fingers sent a text to Dakota.
Chapter Ten
When Crystal told him what she wanted him to do to help her boost her ratings, he was stunned.
“No,” he said unequivocally. “That's not a good idea.”
She stroked his jaw in the way that caused his blood to vacate his head and head south. “Imagine what this could do for you, Fringe. You can use my platform to present your invention, your experiment, your discovery to the world. Do you know how many people follow me on Instagram?”
He did know, actually. Five million and counting. He watched Crystal’s Instagram account obsessively. To the point that it got in the way of his studies and his work here in the lab. He was thankful for the shower stall in the bathroom in the shed and the endless supply of cold water.
He shifted from his spot on the couch, knowing he had to put some distance between them. “I’m not ready.”
Crystal was undaunted. “Why not? I've seen you experiment with it. It works!”
He jumped to his feet, stepping far enough away that Crystal couldn’t reach out and touch him. “I’m not ready because I don't know what the long-term effects are.” He paced like a trapped animal. “I don't even know what the short-term effects are. I’ve only studied my own vital signs and….”
Crystal interrupted. “Fringe, relax.” Like a leopard she padded languidly toward him. The space was crowded with his equipment, leaving him little room to escape her mesmerizing gaze. She stood in front of him, pawing his biceps, and purred into his ear. “You’re fine, aren't you? Nothing bad is going to happen to me.” She nuzzled her nose to his neck, a move she knew drove him crazy, and whispered, "Let me be your guinea pig.” She ran her fingernail along the waist of his jeans against his hot skin. “Please.”
He was he
lpless, paralyzed, like a weak-minded insect caught in a cunning spider’s web. He could never deny her anything she asked for.
He gulped. “You really want me to test it on you?”
Her tongue grazed his ear. “Yes.” She moved him to the sofa. It only took the tiniest push for him to collapse on the cushions, and she straddled him. “You won't be sorry, Fringe. I promise you.”
At that moment and time, he believed her. He believed her with all his heart.
Chapter Eleven
Marlow
I ducked into The Literary Café by the library to grab a quick coffee, something to boost my energy and to hold off the cold that was seeping into my bones. I was immediately invigorated by the smell of fresh ground beans and warm cinnamon buns, and didn't even notice Sage when I first passed through the door. She stood at the end of the line, and I studied her profile as she read from her phone. Her hair hung over her shoulder in dark waves, and she reached up to push it behind her ear, a move I’d witnessed many times. She wore a black fall jacket and festive orange-rimmed glasses, which I knew to be a prescription-free fashion accessory as she had perfectly good eyesight. She tapped her phone and dropped it into her bag, letting out a soft sigh.
“Hey, Sage,” I said as I stepped in behind her.
Sage looked startled to see me. “Oh, hi, Marlow.” She blinked slowly as if searching for something witty to say, but settled for the usual, “How’s it going?”
“Good. How’s it with you?”
“Good.”
It felt like we were both searching for what to say next. I wasn’t sure how our friendship had unraveled to this point. It didn’t help that we hardly saw each other. We shared one class, but didn’t hang out.
Like Sage, I also wore glasses I didn’t need, an emotional social shield, and a ploy Sage and I had in common. I pushed them high onto the bridge of my nose, a nervous tick, and one that Sage was aware of. So now she knew I was nervous. Great.
