Dex dismissed Tess as a vapid drama queen, and Tess thought he was a psychopathic robot with an Oedipus complex. And now he was a psychopathic robot who maybe had a crush on Lauren. After the agave worm experiment, he kept sulking about her being “ganged up on,” as if somehow her unwillingness to try a strange food had been Addie’s fault.
“That was too much for her,” Dex had railed, slamming his clipboard so hard against the soapstone lab tables that it produced a hairline fissure.
“If she had been more adventurous, Kris would have had a more flattering impression of her than”—she read off his last list—“nice, pretty, timid, uptight, boring.”
“Her impressions of him aren’t much better. He was downgraded from cocky to egotistical and from mysterious to whacked.” Dex thumbed the crack he’d made, pulled a Sharpie out of his pocket, and drew over the line, to hide it. “I see she still kept strange and trouble.”
“Also cute.”
So there they were. Two days into the experiment and already Addie’s thesis was being blown to smithereens and she and her lab partner were squabbling yet again.
“Sounds like the project isn’t going as you’d planned,” Tess said, finishing her yogurt.
“We’ll see at the dance.” Addie bit into her turkey sandwich, chewing thoughtfully.
“What’s happening at the dance?”
Addie couldn’t answer. She was only at eighteen.
“Oh, you’re not doing that counting thing, are you?” Tess rolled her eyes. “It is so weird.”
She swallowed. “It’s not weird. Thorough chewing aids digestion and ensures full nutritional value out of every meal.”
“Before you take another bite, tell me what’s so important about this stupid dance.”
Addie put down her sandwich. “That’s when we’ll see if Lauren puts the moves on Alex or Kris. It will be our one chance to observe our subjects out of the lab and in their natural habitat.”
“We need to buy you a new dress.”
“I don’t care what I wear.” She lifted her sandwich to take another bite and was blocked by Tess.
“Also, we should do something with your hair. Get it out of that ponytail. Have you considered eyeliner? You need something to bring out your eyes.”
“The dance is not about me. Besides, Kris and Lauren might not even be able to attend.” She wiggled her brow. “That’s okay because their next experiment is even more dangerous than consuming fake insects.”
“Uh-oh. I hope you’re not going too far, Addie, like when you got your hands on some cyanide to turn those iron nails blue and . . .”
“Please, that was eighth grade. And it was sodium ferrocyanide, which is barely toxic.”
“You accidentally released enough poisonous gas to send the entire class to the hospital!”
Addie dismissed this with a wave. “Middle schoolers craving attention. Everyone was perfectly healthy.”
“Sure. After twenty-four hours in the ICU with round-the-clock supervision.”
“Like I said. Everyone was fine.” Addie took another bite of her sandwich and counted back from twenty.
“Exactly what kind of so-called trauma are you going to inflict on these poor people?” Tess groaned and waited for her to finish, counting out loud until she was done. “Five, four, three, two, one.”
Addie patted her lips. “Nothing too strenuous. Just enough danger to really get the amygdala pumping out those survival chemicals. It’s the only way my thesis can be proven.”
“You’re hella sick.”
“We’ll see. If they fall madly in love, you might think I’m hella genius.”
“Hey, I wonder if that’s what happened to Ed and me,” Tess said, her green eyes wide open in fresh revelation. “We were stuck on a mountain in super-high winds with lightning all around. Could have easily died. Maybe that’s why I fell for him . . . because, otherwise, he’s so not my type. Did you ever think about that, genius?”
Addie thought, If you only knew. “How are you two doing, by the way? Did you have a talk?”
“Yeah. Thanks for giving him a push. He said he’s going to try to visit in October.” She twirled her spoon. “I just love him sooooo much.”
“I know.” Addie gave her arm a pat.
“You do?”
“Actually, I . . .”
A shadow darkened their table and there was Kris, showered and clean, hands in his jeans pockets. Addie’s pulse quickened.
“Got a minute?” he asked.
“I better go set up for evening games,” Tess said, sliding out of her chair. “See you in about five minutes, Addie?”
Addie put down her half-eaten sandwich and shook her head. “Can’t. I’ve got some more work to do at the lab. There’s a paper that’s just been published on . . .”
“Um, you are my Assistant PC,” Tess chided. “The girls are going to be all over campus tonight and I can’t be three places at once.”
Shoot. That paper was vital to her Athenian thesis, a really fascinating breakthrough in the role of cells in regulating emotions.
“What are you guys doing that you’re going to be in three places at once?” Kris asked, taking a seat across from Addie.
Tess picked up her tray. “It’s Choose Your Own Adventure. The rock-climbing wall, ropes course, or kayaking.”
“Which adventure are you doing?”
The question was directed at Addie. She met his gaze under that brooding brow and swallowed the bite she’d just taken. “I don’t know. Kayaking, maybe. I could read in the boat.”
“Five minutes.” Tess tapped her watch. “We’re starting off with circle, where we talk about the latest crises, and I don’t want you to miss it. Your adolescent brain research could come in handy.”
Addie gave her a tiny salute. “Yes, boss.”
When she was gone, Kris leaned across the table and smirked.
“What are you up to?” she asked.
“Fried cheese.”
Her heart skipped a beat, though it was hard to tell if that was because he’d figured out the scam or because he was so close the tip of his nose almost touched hers. “Affirmative,” she said, sitting back a bit and twisting off the top of her water bottle. “When did you deduce the secret ingredient?”
“When you put it in front of me and I smelled mozzarella. Do you know how many pizzas I’ve eaten in my life? I’m something of an expert.”
She took a swig and recapped it. “Why didn’t you tell Lauren?”
“And ruin your fun? Nah.”
“That’s humorous,” she stated.
“Humorous?” He made a face. “I’ve never actually heard someone say that. Usually people just laugh.”
“Ha.”
“You’re messing with me, right?”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.”
“Getting there. Let’s try a joke. A duck, a pig, and an aardvark walk into a bar . . .”
“This sounds bad.”
“It only gets worse.” He frowned. “Shoot. I forgot the middle. Anyway, the punch line is, And the pig said, ‘I don’t have any balloons!’” Kris slapped the table, howling with laughter.
Addie remained straight-faced.
“Don’t you think that’s hi-lar-i-ous?” Kris asked.
“How could I? You totally messed up the middle.”
“Okay, but the punch line. You have to admit, that’s pretty good.”
“I admit nothing.” Addie held up her hand and ticked off her fingers. “For starters, your story didn’t make sense. A pig, a duck, and an aardvark wouldn’t walk into a bar. That would violate local health ordinances. For another, animals do not speak. Their brains have not evolved to the point where . . .”
Kris smacked his head. “Forget it. Do you have to pick everything apart?”
“An unexamined life is not worth living.”
“Now she’s quoting Socrates.”
Addie crumpled her paper napkin and tossed it onto the tray. “I’m right here. You don�
��t have to refer to me in the third person.”
“Now she’s giving me a grammar lesson.” He looked up. “By the way, word is that right before the volleyball game Ed teased you about being an animal killer”—Kris covered his nose protectively—“and you didn’t give him a concussion for it.”
Poor Kris. The space under his eyes was still ringed with purple from the burst capillaries. She’d really done a number on him. “Ed was joking.”
“So was I. It was an attempt to break the ice. You know, to clear the elephant from the room, so to speak.”
“What elephant? And we weren’t in a room. We were outside.”
Kris ruffled his hair so it stood on end. “Man. Tough crowd.”
Now that made her laugh. She giggled so hard, she coughed. “It’s the hair. It’s so wild. Do you ever get it cut?”
“Really? That’s where we’re going?” But he was smiling, and she couldn’t help but smile back.
This phenomenon was fascinating, but also disturbing. Her growing feelings for Kris were becoming a problem, not only because he had a girlfriend who just happened to be her arch enemy, but also because falling for a volunteer in your experiment definitely did not comport with scientific protocol. She would have to force herself to keep a professional distance, otherwise the entire B.A.D.A.S.S. project could be in jeopardy.
Her phone dinged and a text from Tess screamed, WE’VE STARTED. WHERE ARE YOU??????
“Gotta go,” she said, getting up. “See you tomorrow. Don’t forget, we’re meeting at the gym, not the lab.”
Then she dumped her tray and left without another word.
The girls were sitting on the grass in a circle when Addie arrived way late because she’d had to stop off at the dorm to pick up a notebook.
“Yay, it’s Spike!” Emma said. The other girls broke out in applause since, thanks to her, they’d beaten the boys at volleyball the day before.
Being hailed as a hero, especially for athletic prowess, was an entirely foreign experience—and strangely gratifying. Academic achievement was a solitary endeavor. Getting all As on your report card didn’t earn you high fives from your fellow students. Even when she and Dex won praise for their lab reports, it still felt lonely, since he inevitably took all the credit.
But yesterday she’d been part of a team, and now the team rallied around her. It was warm and welcoming.
She took a seat next to Mindy, who asked, “Is it allowed to hit a ball into someone’s head? At home, that would be illegal.”
“That’s only if you reach across the net,” Fiona said. “And she didn’t do that.”
The truth was, Addie couldn’t remember if she’d reached across the net when she jumped up to hit the ball. All she could recall was being overcome with rage when she heard the words in Kris’s mouth.
“We were talking about the dance on Saturday,” Tess said from the opposite side of the circle, where she was sitting between a glum Tay and Bree. “The theme is A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and Shreya asked if it was a costume party. It’s not. You can dress up, dress down. It’s all good.”
Mindy raised her hand. “But isn’t the dance on the day we’re going to Harvard?”
Tess shifted uncomfortably. “We’ll be back from our field trip by then. You’ll have plenty of time to get ready.”
“I was thinking of staying over.” Mindy pointed to Fiona. “I mean, both of us. We’re leaving for Chicago the next morning. We’ll be closer to the airport.”
Tess shot Addie a knowing look. “Maybe we should talk about that later. The administration hasn’t said anything to me about this.”
“Really?” Zuri asked with a giggle. “That’s a surprise.”
Tess craned her neck. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“It’s okay,” Mindy piped up. “Skip it.”
Fiona said, “You should just tell them. Everyone knows, anyway.”
“This is about the guy, isn’t it,” Tess said. “David or whatever.”
Mindy ducked her head and plucked a few blades of grass. “We were going out last year. Then my parents said I couldn’t see him because a relationship would hurt my studies. His parents agreed.”
“That’s a valid argument,” Addie said. “I follow the same philosophy myself.”
“You probably don’t have a boyfriend,” Tay said snarkily. “It would be different if you did.”
Addie thought about this. “Noooo,” she said slowly. “I don’t have a boyfriend because I’ve sworn off boys until after I finish my doctoral thesis. See how that works? Chicken. Egg.”
“But if you did have a boyfriend . . . ,” Bree said with a half shrug. “I’m just saying.”
“You do realize what you’re ‘just saying’ is totally illogical, right?” Addie said. “I have made a conscious decision to . . .”
A piercing whistle shut them up. Tess took two fingers out of her mouth and said, “Excuse me, ladies. We were talking about Mindy. She’s the one with the problem. Let’s turn our attention to her. Go on.”
Mindy let out a sigh. “We knew our parents would get suspicious if we went on the same exchange program. So he went to Harvard’s summer school and I did this. Our week here is the only chance we’ll have to see each other until we graduate.”
“Oh, no,” Tess moaned, massaging her forehead. “This is so not what I wanted to happen.”
But no one else seemed to notice her distress.
“What about at school?” Rachel asked.
“We go to different schools. His is all boys; mine is all girls.”
“That blows,” said Emma. “You two should rendezvous after class.”
Fiona and Mindy stared at each other, puzzled.
“Arrange to meet,” Emma explained. “That’s what rendezvous means in French.”
“We know what rendezvous means,” Fiona said. “We don’t have time after class. Or before. We start school at eight and finish at five. That’s how long our day is. We take one hour for dinner and then study until eleven. Everyone does at least two hours of work before school.”
“Are you serious?” Tay asked incredulously. “I would tell my parents no way. I have a life, thank you very much.”
“You’re lucky,” Mindy said. “You can go to any college you want. We can’t go unless we get high marks on the gaokao senior year. Three days of testing. Armed guards outside. Even drones overhead to make sure there are no radio signals helping students cheat.”
The group hummed in uniform outrage.
“From what I’ve read,” Addie offered, “the SATs are nothing in comparison. Girls go on the pill so they don’t get their periods. They have ambulances in case students faint.”
Zuri dropped her jaw. “That’s a lot of pressure. How do you handle it?”
Mindy shrugged. “No boyfriend.”
The circle erupted in laughter. Addie took advantage of the momentary distraction to send a text. When the reply was a thumbs-up, she said, “We better get to Choose Your Own Adventure before it’s too late.”
“Oh, you’re right,” Tess said, checking her own watch. “Okay, so who wants to go kayaking?”
Mindy and Fiona raised their hands.
“Ropes course?” Tess asked.
No takers.
“Rock wall?”
“Meh,” said Rachel. “It’s too hard.”
“I choose the adventure of going to Thwing, getting an iced coffee, and watching bad TV in lovely air conditioning,” Tay said, turning to Bree. “How about you?”
“Extreme slacking? I’m there.”
They got up and brushed off their shorts. Emma, Shreya, Rachel, and Zuri followed.
Tess threw up her hands. “So much for team building.”
“Look at it this way. They chose their own adventure. It just happened to be on reality TV.” Addie stood and brushed off loose bits of grass. “At least some of them are kayaking. By the way, what are you going to do about the Mindy situation?”
“I have n
o idea. Hope she comes to her senses? Hope she’s too busy to go to Harvard. . . . This?” Tess crossed her fingers.
Addie made a face. “Ah, yes, when all else fails, rely on the power of superstition. While you do that, I’ll head back to the lab. That paper on spindle neurons isn’t going to read itself.”
TEN
How Kris happened to be down at the boat launch that evening was tough to explain.
Later, he would claim that he went to check out the sunset across the bay to the mainland, an obvious lie to anyone who knew that in the beginning of July, the sun set around eight thirty, not seven, which was when he was strolling the beach, skipping stones into the water, watching birds and generally hoping that at any minute Addie Emerson would arrive to go kayaking.
At the sound of footsteps thrumming on the wooden stairs, he spun around a bit too eagerly, only to be disappointed by the appearance of two summer students.
“The kayaks are over here,” said the shorter girl, whose name, he vaguely recalled from the volleyball game, was Shreya.
“Do we have to sign them out or anything?” asked Emma, the taller of the two, a heck of an athlete.
Shreya emerged from the boathouse holding two life jackets, tossing one to Emma. “There’s a sheet inside. I wrote down our names.”
“Okay.” Emma snapped into her jacket and went over to the rack of kayaks, debating the virtues of each.
“Need a hand?” Kris asked, loping across the beach to help.
“I’m trying to figure out if there’s a difference. They look the same except for the color.”
“I think they are. Which one do you want?” Kris gravitated toward a yellow boat. “The brighter it is, the better for speedboats to see you.”
“Makes sense. Okay. Thanks.” Emma went inside the boathouse to get paddles while Kris fetched a red one for Shreya.
“They’re fairly light,” Kris said, setting hers half on the beach and half in the water. “Just awkward to carry.”
Emma snapped her paddle together and then did the same for Shreya. “We were in the student lounge watching TV and it got really boring. Bree insisted on a reality show about buying a wedding dress with a bunch of screaming brides, so we left. We ran into Tess’s boyfriend, who said it was a perfect time to kayak with the sun setting on the water.”
This Is My Brain on Boys Page 10
