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I took a deep breath, refocusing my attention on the task at hand.
Six days had passed since I’d altered the temperature on one of my samples. Compared to the control, that rise in a single degree had most definitely caused changes. The color could no longer be referred to as pistachio. The yellow-green hue had lightened, transforming into a shade akin to a waxy Granny Smith apple.
If anything, I’d expected the sample to darken, not to grow brighter.
I prepared a droplet onto a slide.
My phone dinged.
Had Layana texted me? A sharp sensation flitted through my chest—anticipation, nerves—I wasn’t sure.
I scrubbed my hands in the sink, thoroughly dried them, then pulled my phone from my pocket.
In front of a red background, a pair of long, curved penises met in the center of the screen. They were painted gold andposed to form a giant letter M, like a phallic version of the McDonald’s logo.
Another dick pic.
The shock factor wasn’t nearly as large this time. Instead of feeling horrified, I found myself grinning at my phone.
Layana: Good morning
I checked the time.It was in fact still morning.
Me: It’s ten, not two. You managed to wake during morning hours.
Layana: Way easier when I don’t have to stay up all night under Eterni-Tea’s hellish fluorescent lights
Me: What will you do with your newly-reclaimed free time? Procure a hamburger? It seems you’re in the mood.
Layana: I’m always in the mood for meat. Can’t grab a Big Mac before eleven though, sadly
Layana: As for my free-time plans, I was thinking I’d pretend to be friends with a reclusive billionaire genius, probably
Layana: You know, totally normal things
She’d called me a genius.Because the word came from her, the sentiment made my chest feel lighter.
Layana: The writing is starting to flow, actually. Some of that. And I’ll catch up with the girls
My thumbs lingeredover the screen as I debated if I should say what I felt. It was dangerous, my need to see her again. I couldn’t forget what she’d said when her inhibitions were down.
She hated me.
The words were still fresh, as fresh as the memories of her cries of pleasure. Even if she’d taken the words back, told me it wasn’t true, she’d still said them. And it hurt.
I couldn’t wait until Friday to see her. I wanted to see her now.
Me: Time until the fourteenth of February is running out. Create another post with me tonight.
I waitedfor the telltale dots to appear on the screen.
They didn’t.
She said nothing.
Had I made a mistake by requesting time with her? Did she not know what to say to me now that we’d slept together? Perhaps she didn’t know how to respond. Perhaps I’d spooked her.
What could I say to reassure her? I wasn’t good at this, and usually I didn’t care. But everything was different with Layana, and I didn’t want to allow my lack of social skills to scare her away.
