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Her brown eyes rise to mine as she continues, “Yaya could strut like Vanya Beckford on the runway, but if she couldn’t ‘feel’ the music, she’d move out of time or mess up her cues. It was frustrating for her and I hated seeing her come back home in tears after getting kicked out of another modeling class.”
“Is that when you found your headphone solution?” Adam inquires.
“I read about the different methods of siphoning vibrations and using energy to ‘hear’ music, but a lot of the devices out there were expensive or didn’t suit her specific needs.”
Adam makes a sympathetic sound in his throat.
My heart pricks in my chest. “It angers me when I hear that resources are inaccessible to those who need it. The Sazuki Foundation will, hopefully, address this.” I jut my chin at the MTB prototype. “And this is the beginning of our mission.”
“Once tweaked,” Adam says, “the MTB will translate vibrations with more accuracy than any other device out there.”
“I’m happy to help. What do you need me to do first?”
“You can start by handing over your headphones. We’ll send you a research contract. Once you agree to the terms, you can send us the blueprints and all your research.”
Dejonae fishes the headphones out of her purse and offers it willingly. “I’ll email you the rest.”
Adam sets the modified headphones on the table. “Next, I’d like you to check out our MTB. With your knowledge of vibrational resonance, you might be able to tackle some of the problems we’ve been facing. We’ll start with creating the scenario,” Adam explains. “And then we’ll—” His phone buzzes. He hurries to grab it out of his pocket. “That’s Nova. Excuse me.”
Dejonae and I remain alone in the lab.
She cocks her head, looking at me awkwardly. I wonder what that uncertain expression on her face means.
And then I wonder why I am curious.
Since Niko’s mother, I have never allowed a woman to take up space in my mind. Niko and the Sazuki Foundation have been my only focus for years.
“Do you know how to operate the MTB?” Dejonae asks.
“I do.”
She arches a brow, waiting.
I hesitate.
Not because I have no experience with the MTB.
On the contrary, I was the first to test it.
I am hesitant because Dejonae Williams is beginning to annoy me in ways I wish she wouldn’t. Like a common cold clawing at the throat, I feel the stirrings of something I would rather avoid.
Reluctantly, I approach the desk. Adam’s workstation is cluttered with a sauder iron, goggles, nuts, bolts, screws and various pieces of sawed-off metal. I reach past the stacks of calculators to the ear plugs he keeps in a jar.
“To create the scenario, we need to plug your ears to give the effect of being deaf.”
“You test the MTB on hearing people?” She sounds surprised.
“I do not wish to give anyone hope until we know for certain that the technology can work.” I pluck two of the plugs and hand them to her.
She cringes. “I’m not… great with things in my ears.”
“You use ear buds.” I remember her tapping them when I walked her to class.
“But they don’t… penetrate, you know?”
My blood turns molten at the images her words convey. Miss Williams. In my bed. Sweat on her skin. Mouth open, moaning, as I curve her neck, face down. Eyes on our connected bodies.
Inappropriate thoughts.
