This Is My Brain on Boys

by Sarah Strohmeyer

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 H2O. 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?”

  Addie lifted her finger up, pleased he was so smart. “Correct! Though the Mexicans call them chilocuiles. Aegiale hesperiaris is their scientific name. Your basic moth larvae.”

  “Oh god.” Lauren clutched her gut. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Dexter began writing madly.

  “Aren’t you at least going to try one?” Addie asked.

  “No. Way.”

  “That’s part of the experiment,” she singsonged.

  “Then you do it.” Lauren flicked a worm across her plate. It landed on the table, right by the sauce.

  “All righty.” Addie pinched it between her fingers and took a deep breath.

  Dex gestured to the worm with the eraser side of his pencil. “It’s unorthodox for researchers to participate in experiments with their subjects.”

  “It’s also unorthodox to force people into eating putrid moth larvae,” Lauren said.

  “This helps.” Kris held out the sauce. “It’s not bad. I used to eat stuff like this all the time when I was in China—silkworms. Same thing. They’re considered a delicacy.”

  Lauren hugged her knees. “I don’t eat anything that’s considered a delicacy in a foreign country.”

  Turning to Addie, Kris said, “Go for it.”

  His brown eyes brimmed with amusement. It was as if he was saying, I know what kind of person you are. You take chances. You’re open-minded. You don’t mind being different. In fact, you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?

  She liked that.

  Addie dunked the worm and then popped the whole thing in her mouth, crunching down with one bite, whereupon it exploded in a burst of salty, spicy goo. Swallowing, she snatched up Kris’s napkin and patted her mouth.

  Lauren insisted on inspecting the napkin. It was empty. “She did it.”

  “Of course.” Addie rubbed her stomach (or, the location on the abdomen commonly refe
rred to as such). “Not bad.”

  “There you go! Have another.” Kris held out his plate.

  “I will if you will.”

  “Game on.” He took a worm and, bypassing the sauce, bit it in half.

  “Back atcha.” Addie did the same, and then they toasted with their worm halves, dipped them ceremonially, and consumed.

  “Um. I have to go, like, immediately before I barf.” Lauren was already half out of her chair.

  “Wait!” Dex said, waving the notebook papers. “You need to do your list.”

  Hastily, Lauren scribbled down five words, then grabbed her bag and, without so much as a good-bye, dashed out the door.

  “I hope she’s going to be okay,” Kris said, completing his own list. “She did look kind of green.”

  Which was silly, Addie thought, reading over Lauren’s latest five impressions, considering the worms were really nothing more than . . .

  “Fried cheese?” Tess exploded in laughter.

  “Shhh.” Addie scanned the cafeteria to check if anyone overheard. “Quiet. Kris must never know.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.”

  “I can’t wait to report this to the Athenian Committee.” Addie took a sip of her iced tea. “You are coming to my presentation, aren’t you?”

  Tess dipped a spoon into her pineapple Greek yogurt. “You know I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to listen to you detail the peptides and riptides of love.”

  “There are no riptides. Riptides are currents. Peptides are amino-acid chains.” Kind of embarrassing that she didn’t know that, Addie thought.

  “Whatever,” Tess said, not the least bit embarrassed. “Let’s get back to what we were talking about. Weren’t you worried Kris would figure out that your worms were fake?”

  Addie put her finger to her lips. Seriously. Years of being coached to project to the back of the room had ruined Tess’s ability to keep her voice down.

  “I was,” she whispered. “Especially since he’d eaten silkworm larvae in China. I hadn’t accounted for that. But the chef did a superb job. Cut them perfectly and made them look like the photos on Wikipedia.”

  “I bet Dex was apoplectic that Lauren wimped out, right?” Tess shouted.

  Addie smacked her forehead. She would have to quit conversing about this in a public place if Tess insisted on being a human bullhorn. These updates were supposed to be confidential, not broadcast to the greater Academy 355 community. Dex would have a hissy fit if he found out she’d been blabbing about the experiment to her best friend, particularly since he and Tess didn’t get along to begin with.