"Just some new experiments we're running," said my mom.
Melanie resumed eating. She might have bat ears for personal dirt, but no interest whatever in what was going on at CellEvolve. My mom gave me a discreet nod, her face relaxing.
I drove to CellEvolve after dinner. I expected the thirty-minute commute would begin to wear on me at some point, but right now I enjoyed almost any excuse to drive my new car. With the possible exception of my computer, I didn't believe I'd ever been so enamored of a piece of technology. The BMW was like my own private space ship. I climbed in, the control lights lit up – the rumble of ignition – and I was on my way toward the galaxy of Sacramento.
The security guards waved me through when I showed up, wishing me a good night, and as I rose in the elevator I felt a small spark of anticipation, but Aleesha had become so sulky in the last week that part of me had started dreading our get-togethers.
Life for me at CellEvolve was amazingly simple. Aside from a rare blood test, I might as well have been a stud stallion, except my stuff wasn't for breeding. I didn't think I would've made a very good breeding stallion, because I couldn't seem to turn off my mind. The physical pleasure was still there, but the sense of doing a job blew away a lot of the excitement for me. It was a pleasurable routine, like taking a shower. I wouldn't say I was bored, but the thrill was definitely gone.
An image of the girl in my calculus class blotted Aleesha and everything else out of my mind as I walked through the hall to my apartment. I'd expected to forget about her after her brutal rejection, but in a weird way that made her seem even more attractive. Was I really that pathetic?
I shook away the image, or most of it, as I opened my apartment door. I was startled to see a young, red-haired woman sitting in my chair reading a magazine.
"Oh, hey," she said. "They gave me a key to let myself in. They said it would be all right."
I just stared at her.
"I hope I didn't shock you. Dr. Bloom couldn't be here tonight, so they asked me."
"Then..." My brain sluggishly chugged along to the logical conclusion. "You're here because..."
"For the sample?"
"Oh. Right." I cleared the cobwebs from my head. "Why couldn't Aleesha – Dr. Bloom – be here?"
"They told me she wasn't feeling well."
I sat down on the edge of my bed, resisting the urge to ask her more questions. She was just the messenger. And looking at her now, I didn't particularly want to shoot her. She had dark red hair, white, lightly freckled skin, blue-green eyes, and lips that matched her hair. She was wearing a white smock.
"Do you work here?" I asked.
"I'm a lab assistant. Oh, I'm Caitlin, by the way."
She stood up, holding out her hand. I couldn't help noticing the sweet curves and bulges beneath her lab smock. Far more filled out than Aleesha, but short of Alice's lavish endowments.
"Aiden," I said, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."
"It's really nice to meet you, too."
Chapter 15
I JOGGED TO MY calculus class with a renewed sense of purpose. I decided to pretend I wasn't wearing Andrydox so I might feel some of the confidence with women I felt when my "special powers" were on full display. Of course, I would be missing the usual positive feedback, but I figured I'd just need to pretend that was happening, too.
The young professor continued his thoughts on series convergence, and I was almost fascinated enough to forget my quarry. With her now seated near the rear of the class, it was awkward to glance back at her, but I was able to sneak in a couple of peeks. She seemed mesmerized by our teacher – crap, maybe she had a crush on him? – and I never caught her gaze shift even for an instant in my direction. I guessed that in her mind I was the dorky, overambitious high school student, not worthy of a second glance.
Class ended, and this time as she worked her calculus book into her pack I headed straight outside and waited by her blue bike. She emerged, and I saw the flash of surprise followed by a determined clench of her jaw when she spotted me.
"Hi," I greeted her. "I never got your name."
"That probably is because I didn't give it to you."
"I'm Aiden."
I thrust out my hand. She stared at it for a moment as if it represented a conundrum – not a pleasant one – and grasped it briefly before turning to her bike.
"Xandra," she said, her back to me as she fiddled with her lock.
"That's a pretty name."
"Thanks."
She strung her lock around her bicycle seat and snapped it in place before facing me with palpable reluctance.
"Look, um, Aiden?" She said my name as though she'd already nearly forgotten it. "I know you're a smart kid. You don't get in a class like this as a high school junior without being smart."
"I'm actually a senior. I skipped a grade."
"That's nice. Regardless, you are still a kid."
"How old are you? Nineteen, twenty?"
"Nineteen going on twenty."
"That's not a very large age-difference."
"Maybe at thirty or forty it wouldn't be, but now it's a big difference. You'll understand when you reach my lofty age."
She straddled her bike. I hastily worked through my strategies. Of course, I'd expected this, and had a counter.
"Okay." I raised my hands in surrender. "But we could still be friends, couldn't we?"
Her smile was skeptical. "That would depend on if you're gaming me. But if you're being sincere, then maybe."
"As a friend, could I buy you lunch?"
"I've already had lunch, thanks."
"Coffee? Tea? How about some ice cream?"
"I was actually thinking of stopping by Baskin Robbins on the way to my apartment. If you're so anxious to do something nice for me – as a friend – I wouldn't object to that."
"Deal."
She looked around. "Are you on a bike?"
"No, I ran here."
"You ran." She cocked her head at me as if I might be joking. "Do you live near campus?"
"Not really." I affected a casual shrug. "I run pretty much everywhere in town."
"Oh..." Her puzzled frown gave way abruptly to a mischievous smile. "I'll tell you what. Baskin Robbins is about two miles from here. If you get there before I order a cone and eat it, we've got a deal."
"Okay," I said. "You're on."
With a devilish smile, I launched myself across the Quad on a straight diagonal toward E Street. I didn't know how fast Xandra planned to pedal – I expected she wouldn't see any need to rush – but I liked my chances. I could run 2 miles in ten minutes without too much sweat, and I would be cutting some corners.
Nine minutes later I sprinted up to Baskin Robbins, paused to catch my breath, and walked inside. No sign of Xandra.
When she showed up a few minutes later, I was already halfway through my two-scoop chocolate cone. I flashed a chocolate-rimmed grin.
"No way," she said, coming up to me. "Did you teleport?"
"If I said yes, would you go out with me?"
"Maybe if I believed you. I wouldn't mind a quick teleport to Olympus Mons on Mars. Quick being the operative word."
"You're into space?"
"I'm aiming for astrophysics, though being an astronaut was always my first dream."
"Maybe we could start somewhere that actually has an atmosphere. Like the Stadium Five, where a movie about space, Galaxy's Edge, is playing right now."
Xandra stood with one hand on the stool next to me, as if uncertain about sitting. "So you were gaming me?"
"Not about being your friend. About wanting only that, totally gaming you."
"So young and still full of hormones." She sighed, and settled down on the stool.
A server asked what she wanted, and she chose chocolate almond. I opened my wallet and handed my shiny gold and silver CellEvolve debit card to the server.
"Your parents' credit card, I assume?" Xandra asked.
"No, it's mine. And it's
actually a debit card."
"Oh." She frowned as the server handed back the card. "Isn't that the CellEvolve logo?"
"Yup. It's a company card."
"How did you rate that?"
"I work for them."
"Really? What kind of work?"
"It's uh, kind of a training program. You know, grooming me for a future position. My mom works there, so..." I shrugged, pleased with my story.
"An internship?"
"Something like that."
"Is that the kind of work you want to do? Biotechnology?"
"Maybe. I'll stick with them for a year or two and see where it goes."
"It must be nice to have that kind of option in place."
"Yeah, it's a pretty cool place to work. They have a pool, rec center, everything. I even have my own apartment there."
"They must think you're something rather special."
"Or maybe I'm just gaming them?"
Xandra returned my jaunty grin with a faint smile. She was licking her cone in a focused way while studying me. For the first time since we'd met, her eyes were serious, questioning. I was thinking about how much I wanted to be that cone.
"You're quite the athlete as well," she observed. "Do you run track or something?"
"No. That seems kind of boring. I'm going to try out for basketball, though."
"Unusual combination of jock and nerd. You look more like a jock, however. If I hadn't seen you in my math class, I would've assumed that. Don't see a lot of jocks in calculus."
She studied me some more.
"There's something strange about you," she said, a hint of a furrow in her smooth forehead.
"What?" I felt like checking my fly.
"I don't know. Your eyes, skin..." She frowned. "It's like you're lit up or something."
"It's probably that run."
"No, I noticed it in class and when we first met."
"You were checking me out in class?" I grinned.
"I think you're confusing me for you."
"I don't think so. You're much prettier than I am."
She laughed. "Hardly. Maybe you're just one of those shiny, happy people."
"That's probably it."
"Look, Aiden, you seem like a sweet kid, so I'll be honest with you. Even if you were older, I still wouldn't be interested. I just ended a relationship, and I'm not looking for any more of that grief right now. I'm going to focus on school and keeping my life simple."
"Oh." I nodded to myself. These days, I often wished I had that option. "That makes sense."
"Thanks for understanding."
"Why was it a cause of grief? I mean, with your boyfriend."
She looked away from me and frowned. A few seconds passed.
"I think it's mostly the cycles," she said. "In the past, we would've called it 'bipolar' or something, and it's especially bad at this age, before guys know how to deal with its ups and downs."
"I think you're talking about male estrus?"
"What else?" Her smile was pained. "It's like riding a rollercoaster where the fun part is way too short. Or maybe like shivering in a cold shower for hours – then a blast of scalding hot."
Wow, did I ever want to tell her that I only had hot – no cold or ups and downs. But in that moment it was crystal clear to me that I didn't want to use my hyperness in any way to gain an advantage with her.
"You look as though you want to say something." She was smiling at me, her head cocked in a way that reminded me of my mom when she was trying to see through me.
"It might not always be that way," I said cautiously. "I mean, male estrus. We could figure out a way to treat it. That's what I'm working on right now, actually."
"Really?" Her eyes narrowed. "Do you know something? Some scientific breakthrough in the works?"
"Uh, well, I wouldn't say that." I felt like slapping myself. Keeping secrets was obviously not my forte. "But eventually it will happen, I'm sure."
"It would be nice to go back to the usual boy-girl problems," Xandra sighed. "They would seem so trivial now."
"I wonder how it would be if it had gone the other way," I said. "I mean, guys being horny all the time and women only interested a few times of the year."
"It wouldn't be nearly as bad for you. The girls would probably accommodate men more – they'd still be physically able to do it, after all."
"Yeah, you might be right."
"Well..." She wiped her face and folded up the napkin. "I should go. Studying and all."
"Yeah, me, too. I need to get over to CellEvolve for my 'evening shift'."
"You're going to run home? How far is it?"
"I don't know. Maybe three miles."
"Just to be clear – you're running ten miles back and forth from the class, carrying your calculus book and a binder in one hand?"
"Well, I alternate hands. The extra weight makes for a bit better workout."
The way Xandra was staring at me made me think I was freaking her out more than impressing her.
"Your fitness and energy levels must be off the charts," she said.
"I guess I'm in pretty decent shape." I gathered my book and binder. "Let me know if you change your mind about a movie or whatever."
"What's your last name, by the way?"
"Stevens. Yours?"
"Mine's Moore."
That seemed somehow fitting, I thought.
THE RED-HAIRED lab tech, Caitlan, was back for the evening festivities, along with Alice. But no Aleesha. Three hours, and five "samples" later, I was lounging poolside in the still-hot September sun, feeling something almost akin to drained. I wasn't Superman: going to school all day, sprinting ten miles, driving to Sacramento, having non-stop sex for three hours, and swimming a dozen laps, had to take a toll, even on me.
A shadow eclipsed the sun, and I opened my eyes. Aleesha stood in formal business attire frowning down on me.
"Hey," I said. "I've been worried about you."
"I can see how much it's stressing you out." Her gaze took in my swim trunks and reclined, suntanned body. "Relax – I'm not here to get on your case, Aiden. I know you're a sixteen year old boy, and I'm a thirty-three year old woman. The responsibility for any turmoil I'm feeling is mine."
For some reason that didn't do much to ease my guilt.
"I've just given CellEvolve formal notice," she said. "Before coming here, my friends and family joked about the cliché of working for an 'evil corporation'. Now I know that's not a joke. This company has no ethics. What it's doing with you is not only unethical, it's criminal. And I'm sure that barely scratches the surface."
Now I added a generous serving of unease to my guilt. "You really quit CellEvolve?"
"I did." She sat on the lounge chair, facing me, her eyes more earnest than sad. "I was even prepared to write them a check for not fulfilling my agreement, but Dr. Blumenthal refused. He acted kind and understanding with that damn permanent press smile of his, but I don't believe it. That money-transfer to my account would show that I accepted compensation from them, which would undermine me as a witness against them if it came to that."
I might've been out of the water, but now my head was swimming. "Could it come to that?"
She shook her head. "I'm not looking to cause trouble for CellEvolve. I just want to live my life as it was meant to be lived – not as a sperm-sample handler but as a researcher."
I winced at the "sperm-sample handler." She laid a hand on my arm.
"I'm not blaming you for any of this, Aiden, I hope you know that. I just want you to keep your eyes open. Use that big brain of yours, and don't forget who you're dealing with."
She patted my arm and stood up.
"But the breakthrough," I said. "This is going to help millions – maybe billions of people – right? Even if it is an 'evil corporation'."
"I wouldn't count on that." She set her jaw. "And I'll tell you something, Aiden. If CE comes up with some b.s. reason for not making this available to men in general, I will spea
k up – confidentiality agreement or not."
THE WEEKEND belonged to me.
No school, no drives to CellEvolve. I exercised hard during the day to mute my urges, and took a small dose of Melatin in the evening to take the edge off. I was even learning to like my evening brain fuzziness. I didn't think too much about Xandra, and when I did my thoughts weren't filled with longing. Melanie's barbs didn't sting, and Aleesha's warnings seemed a little less sinister.
Probably my favorite part of the day was my morning workout on the East Jefferson Park's basketball court with Jim Jackson. The workout usually went on for an hour or two, until Jim got tired, and sometimes included a pickup game.
I was learning a lot, and feeling more confident. I could almost play even with Jim. He had the skill and the height, and I had quickness and better stamina. The first games had been averaging around 10 – 4 or 5 in his favor, but I had closed the gap, and sometimes even squeaked through with a victory.
We were in the middle of a hotly contested debate about a foul when we spotted Ragnar's familiar green Jaguar cruise into the parking lot. I hadn't spoken with Ragnar for a couple of weeks. I'd been tempted to call him a few times, but didn't want to be a pest. I knew he was deep in the middle of training season, with the first game only a month or so away. Still – here he was, stepping out of his "Green Hornet" with his usual movie star grin, dressed to play in shorts and tank top.
"Hi," I said as he sauntered up. "I didn't think they'd let you play out here."
"If they knew what I was doing, they'd kill me."
"That seems kind of self-defeating."
He laughed. "My handlers aren't so great with logic."
He slapped hands with Jim.
"I can't thank you enough for talking to Principal Schussler," said Jim. "It was killing me that I couldn't play this year."
"You were kind of counting on a football or basketball scholarship, weren't you?"
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't," said Jim. "Since my dad died, we've been struggling just to pay the bills."
"I know how that works. My parents were both professors, and they still struggled with the bills. 'Course, we had five kids and lived in the Bay Area. Anyhow, I'll call around and see what I can do."
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