IT'S FOR RESEARCH PURPOSES

Chapter 2

I wake up to a tapping tree hitting my window. Hitting the glass from the ground onto the second floor. I've fallen asleep at my desk again. That’s gonna destroy my back in a few years. It'd be more intelligent of me to fix the habit. Soon enough, my spine is gonna be unsalvageable. The boulder from 'Indiana Jones' is gonna shatter it. It'd be intelligent of me to write at least when I'm sleeping over at work. Work being one foot away from my bed if the chair is to the side. Logically, writing a romantic scene of tension and implied bits should be more simple than describing a paper airplane. This is, however, false. Writing an attractive and attainable character has been my most struggling challenge in the process involving my book. What should I do about the attention on the boyf topic? Should I tell people to stop suggesting that I get one? Perhaps? I kinda enjoy it when they bring it up though in a way. I can appreciate some aspects of romance. Even if I won't admit it...verbally, I can get behind how descriptive it is. Watching the situation unfold when I'm reading it. But that's not what I like. I don't imagine. Even if I can’t admit it to anyone… I do like the mystery of it all. I have no idea how romance is meant to play out or function and that’s just kinda intriguing. The idea of the unknown is. Yet, it becomes difficult to write considering I'm taking blind shots into the sky. I don't even know the rules. I know you should respect people's boundaries and consent, all that. I do admit if I had a boyfriend it would be tons more efficient. But everyone says I should and I'm a little too stubborn to give in to that peer pressure. And external peer pressure, being when everyone was talking about getting to gather. Crushes in general, romance everything was kinda badgering me to get into a relationship. I rather not be in a relationship with a guy. Just thinking about it is making my skin shake. Imagine you have to go on dates and look into each other's eyes… All that nonsense. The number of things that could go wrong are beyond me. If I get a boyfriend and he dumps me for some prettier chick, that would be pretty devastating for my research. Hold up, I'm not supposed to use one for research. If I could get him to admire me, it’d be nice to have a guy being kinda obedient for me. Not a dog per say but if they could follow what I tell them, it'd be nice. I kinda like people being into me too, not gonna deny I got pretty flattered yesterday. I mean poor guy, but still, it was weirdly satisfying being the eye of affection. The guy was a little much though, kinda pushy. He grabbed my hand without my permission. That was kinda rude. And the crap he was probably considering nice, or flirty, was rather creepy. Best of luck to him then. I hope he finds someone interested in that. Or actually, what he did wasn't perfect. Or it was and I'm overreacting. I was showing signs I was uncomfortable. Or I wasn’t. I should have spoken when I was uncomfortable. But I thought a lack of a no wasn't a yes… I don't favour too much attention I guess, especially when it’s like that. A little bit is favoured. I suppose less is more, at least for me. When I'm surrounded by everyone's eyes and whispers, it's hard to think. Can't breathe but not in a great way like in the romance book. More like I'm suffocating. Granted, there are only about twenty-nine or so students. I’m glad it wasn't the entire school. I’d have to transfer. Move to California or go on one of mom's trips. Which reminds me. I should probably see if she's still here. I don’t wanna miss saying goodbye before it’s too late. Yet I might have already. Regardless, there’s breakfast downstairs. I put the romance book on my bookshelf and head down the steps. My cousin is on the phone, either talking to her girlfriend or professor. She gestures to the kitchen as I arrive at the bottom floor. The smell of grease and eggs, pork bacon and a cinch of hash browns rages in the kitchen. As I reach the two plates, I gaze upon the steam shooting up and grabbing the scent of breakfast foods, gauging most categories. I take a fork from the drawer. I grab a bottle of off-brand ketchup from the stained off-white fridge. I dig my fork into the meal and take a bite. Extraordinary. The savoury taste was beyond what my taste buds had ever even been allowed to negotiate with. Even though it has a side of meat, the eggs succeed in making me feel cared for and appreciated. The grease from the bacon is light. The crunch is electric. I devour the entire plate in a matter of seconds and scrub my dish in the sink. I don't usually do that but I wanted to give back to her a little. It's nice of her to make breakfast for us. I appreciate that. She breezes in the kitchen pretty swiftly, the Olaf-yellow curtain swooshes upward and lets in a little extra natural light. The sun is hot on my skin and heats the fork almost instantly. I drop it and it chings on the plate for a second before she speaks.

“So…the eggs?” she asks sitting across the table, setting a plaid yellow napkin on her lap. She puts her wrists face up on the matching tablecloth. “Mom’s gonna be gone for the next two weeks, we’ll have the house to ourselves.” she continues.

“I know it'll be pretty lonely.” I say.

“You’ll miss her? Even though you hardly see her already?” she asks, grinning with her teeth and frowning with her over-enthusiastic eyes.

“Mom goes on a lot of dangerous trips. She taught me to not talk badly about people when they’re dealing with something like that. Where they can't come back. The last time I see her may very well be my last time seeing her.”

“Bleak.” she responds.

“Not all bleak. And besides, she gave me something to remember her by if she ever fails to return.”

“That’s good… hey I’m starting a project In my ‘help and service class’” she says in a slower tone of voice. She picks up her fork then sets it back down dropping it to the table cloth that matches the curtains and her lap napkin. She begins talking again. “So the project is basically me having to coach a person through an obstacle that can easily be handled with the power and mind of psychology." she says in a more Are-you-gonna-catch-the-drift-tone. I don't see what I'm supposed to get. I’m not going through a rough patch in my social life. I just don't have one.

“Well I bet it'll be a lot of hard work, I wish you the best of luck.” I say confused.

She starts nodding and speaking simultaneously. “Yeah it will be a lot of hard work, we can use the entire house if we need it, auntie. Hellen is gone. You can get a lot of writing done in the open spaces, instead of having to be cage blocked in your room all day and night. We can hang out, you can watch tv and write at the same time. There are a lot of experiments that can be hosted too. In this house. Without disturbance.” she ends, still nodding.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Haha don't host any college therapy sessions over here, but okay,” I reply in a sarcastic tone, even though I'm being truthful. So satire kinda. Eh in a joking way, I mean.

“If you want, you could invite a friend over to hang out. I’m not snoopy. I don't care if you're drinking cranberry juice before he comes over." she says in a confident tone that kinda makes her sound like a jackass. Regardless, the hairs on her neck glisten as well as the divot above her upper lip. Sweat. “Cut the malarkey. You know I don't have friends.” I say. “What are you trying to get out of me? I'm almost convinced, and I would be if I didn’t know all the psychology tricks you taught me. lay into me straight.”

“Okay.” she says. “Could you help me with my project? You are planning on getting into- you know, whatever situation you desire. Cough, cough, Hoping it'll be, a real relationship. You know, with a human being at school presumably.” She looks at me with a face that would make me guilt-ridden to deny. Probably because of the delicious breakfast she indirectly force-fed down my throat. “No.” I say hoping she won't get mad at me. “You want me to get into a relationship for the purpose of a project. You just want a guinea pig, is that right? I won't be subjected to a science experiment, find someone else. If I'm gonna do the romance thing I’m doing it on my own terms. I don't want you helping with it. It’d almost be like you’re dating him too.” I say getting kinda frustrated as I continue with every sentence.

“You won't be a guinea pig. I'm human when I do these types of tests. And besides, all my friends are either busy with their own projects or not interested. And I doubt I'm allowed to do the project on My GF.” She says.

“Aw, that’s too bad s**t out of luck I guess. Bummed for you. Find someone on Tinder maybe.”

I say walking out of the kitchen and grabbing my backpack. I slide my shoes on and exit the door.

I walk to school rhino-trudging through the motions up the scoped street. The roads are desperate for company and it's early seven in the morning. I see a bluebird taking their leave from the nest. I pause in my march. I’d take a picture or a video if I didn't care about people thinking I'm taking a picture of their house, or licence plate. The bird tweets and flies back to the nest after taking its little stroll around the tree. The mother returns and greets the father. They split the warmth mother bird flew in. The mother chews the food and feeds the baby. They're such a happy family. “I wanna take a damn picture!” “Well, what's stopping you?” An unknown voice approaches. “I don't want people to think I'm taking a picture of their house or something.” I say kinda shy for some reason. He looks in all directions but keeps his feet facing me.

“People around here don't pull their car out till eleven.” he says. His hair is medium length, I assume it's bleached blonde. He has messy bedhead that pulls two pieces up on either side of his head. They're perfect cow ears. He’s wearing eyeliner, I think. He has a septum piercing in his nose. Another cow-like feature. A black T-shirt. Wait... the lining of the T-shirt is cow print. That’s three cow features I’ve spotted. I would assume his voice is calming for some people. “Do you want me to take the picture?” he says after I don't respond.

“Huh?” My eyelids glaze down to the halfway point. Must've not got enough sleep.

“Of the… birds.” he does respond, holding up his phone for me to understand the question better.

“No.” I say. “I mean. It’s not important!”

“Okay... I go a different way from here. See you at school.” He walks down a different street and I lose sight of him. I continue walking hoping I won't be late. I've wasted at the very least ten minutes staring dumbfounded at a random bird's nest. By the time I get to school half of the students are sat. Someone stole the seat that I was occupying before. I place myself in one near the board. Cow-kid walks in and sits in a seat near the back.

“Yo Ari! Did you ask her out?” I hear coming from his general direction.

“No, not yet at least.” apparently 'Ari's voice says. The cow-kid from the bird's nest.

“Ay keep your mind off yesterday, you’ll have more 'luck' than me. Considering you’re like a status-award and shit.” says a familiar voice.

“Is that how you see him?” says a new gravelly voice sarcastically.

“No I'm joshing.” says who I'm now assuming was the voice of Will. I'm not positive. Also, Joshing??

“Hey, I actually have a strategy. I’m bringing her to the outdoor stake place. She’s destined to say yes.” Says Cow-man.

“So destinies in play, is that right?” says will.

“Well, I don’t know... She’s nice to me. She has to be at least a little- 'cause I'm the status and shi.” he retorts.

“That could be a problem.” the gravel voice says smug. He has tan skin, his hair is black and spiky and dusty. The way his hairline parts and continues is identical to a Japanese character's hair. His teeth are the colors of fire. Gold teeth but only golden from lack of hygiene. He has a tongue-piercing reading ‘slut’. It's a small font which is the only reason he hasn't gotten sent down by any staff before class. Actually, I’m only able to see cause I'm wearing farsighted glasses.

“Oh my-! Will you shut the hell up with that 'maso' s**t!” the now not-so-soft boy says. I don't hear the last bit because the classroom starts to rile up as more students enter. Cow-man is now standing up in sudden rage. Why are his friends making him uncomfortable? Why would I want friends if that's what will happen? I'm not interested in meeting friends, I'm fine on my own actually.

“Listen, a fancy restaurant? that'll win. I got good strats.” Cow-man says.

“I hate to break it to you but there's about no way you’re going to win a date. It doesn’t matter what strategy you use your crush liking you back is entirely based on luck.” I say from my seat. Oh s**t, I'm actually doing this. I don't know if this'll work, and besides, I'm being a hypocrite using a flawless strategy like this. I just hope I don't come off like I have a crush that will be awkward. I just want a boyfriend for notes.

“Really?” Cow-man asks with his body frowning. And his face drooping down. His hands relax and he avoids eye contact. I get out of my seat and stand at the side of my desk.

“The likeliness of her rejecting you is 90%. This isn’t because you’re bad for her or anything. It’s because you talk about her as if she's purchasable at 'chicks r us'. Your messy hair and clothes are a turn away. You don't seem like you have money. On top of that you live in a trailer I think. Or at least near a trailer park so that kinda makes you close to trailer park trash, probably to her eyes. Even if you get together you still have to think about parents' approval and the thought of her cheating on you. Both are reasonable assumptions from her being sought after by someone like you. On top of that, you wear eyeliner so she probably thinks you’re gay.” I end with a pretty cocky face.

His jaw subtle gapes until his friend starts Sexualizing me, I think? That’s strange. “Hot, that’s so hot…” Will says with dopey eyes. I regret making eye contact with him as his expression grows.

“Hey there’s no point in not trying… we could be high school sweethearts. Or something.” He says ignoring his friend. Maybe it’s normal what that guy said?

“Fate doesn’t exist buddy you'll get your treats eventually. … all that s**t. Also, I doubt you two'll last very long considering we're in high school and we are under copious amounts of stress and homework right now. That’s something to behold, and she probably has a crush or something. Did you even ask her if she has a boyfriend?” I ask arriving at his desk.

“No…” Cowman says.

His eyes start to moisten. He bunches his black shirt in his hands tugging it down a bit revealing a thin white chain following the direction of his collarbone. The chain has little black spots in random order. Oval and splotched bits, that chain's worn out. Yet another cow detail. He’s at what? Four? Four details that make him cow-ish. Is that like a gimmick or some s**t? Does he happen to be a famous person? No, he lives in a trailer he could probably afford his own apartment if he was rich I'm guessing. Or house, or something.

“On the other hand, if you agree to host an experiment with me you can have a relationship. You can obtain the relationship status and have access to sacred venting. That being um intimate conversations about um whatever guys talk about.”

He sits in his seat hanging off every syllable that comes out of my mouth. His grip loosens and whatever was trying to hide is hidden. once again succeeding. I continue with my telemarket-sounding voice. I sound like a damn in-person infomercial. ‘For the low low price of dating me, you can be a rat in my scheme.’

“Don't worry, I know what you’re thinking. No, you don't have to touch me.” I say before he can decline.

“I can't? Got it.” he says.

“Um okay, then you have my consent to um touch me, but not in any unorthodox way,” I say.

“Is kissing considered unhorseicocksed...Un orthickockeds..” He pauses before counting the syllables on his fingers. “un or th dox ed” He counts them wrong.

“Kissing is on the table, you can do that. I just don't have a mindset for it.” I answer.

“So I can kiss you whenever I want?” He asks standing up then sitting on his desk to reach me.

“Um yeah... I don't see why not. Um, you’ve had all your shots? Or?” I ask trying to make a joke about it, to not soil the offer.

“Ye. And all I have to do is let you take notes on me? What is this for?” he asks.

“Research.” I say “I need to take a lot of information away from the situation. Meaning you have to follow my every command.” I say.

“In return, I get to kiss you whenever I want? And you’ll make me vegan soup if I get sick?”

“Yeah, sure.” I say. Is this how all guys act?

“Sweet.” he tilts his face to the left, pressing his lips into the last two millimetres of distance. Everyone, including me, staring dumbfounded.