This Is My Brain on Boys (6 page)

That's what started Addie thinking: Maybe it didn't take a helicopter crash to trigger a flood of dopamine and epinephrine. Maybe all you needed was a roller coaster. Or a rock wall. Or being trapped on a barren island in a violent electrical storm.

Dexter clicked to the first slide. A pair of gerbils appeared on the screen, each clutching small gerbil treats. “Here we have Will and Kate, two gerbils named not by me, of opposite gender of sufficient maturity. Previously Will showed no interest in Kate and vice versa.”

Addie clicked to the next slide and took over the narration: “On the theory that the perception of extreme danger triggers the brain's response by releasing stimulants such as phenylethylamine (PEA), adrenaline, and norepinephrine—the exact same hormones the brain produces in creating instant physical attraction”—she cleared her throat—“Dex and I placed Will and Kate in precarious, though ultimately safe, situations, with the
goal of inducing said attraction.”

Next slide. Will and Kate in a clear plastic exercise ball. Addie held her breath.

This was the experiment that had caused all the trouble.

Somehow, word had gotten out that she and Dex were traumatizing mice—though they weren't. Without even bothering to get her facts right, a fellow class member and die-hard animal-rights activist, Kara Wilkes, had embarked on a ruthless smear campaign against the lab.

The administration tried to make her stop, but Kara and her lawyer parents counterclaimed that she had a First Amendment right to free speech. It wasn't until Kara and her friends went too far by breaking into the lab, trashing the equipment, and spray-painting all over the walls, that they were finally booted off campus.

Addie still had nightmares about that period and she was still furious. Not Kara, not anyone in her self-righteous clique, had ever bothered to visit the lab to see for themselves if animals were actually being abused. If they had taken the trouble to do the original research, they would have found clean cages, plenty of food and water, and peacefully sleeping rodents.

That's what angered her the most—their assumptions, their quickness to judge, the joy they took in making her depressed. It was so unfair, especially since Addie
couldn't undo the damage. Everywhere she went, people stared and whispered. Forget eating hamburger in public. That only proved she was a bloodthirsty murderer.

“Ignore them,” Dex urged after she refused to leave her room for three days. “They're beneath you.”

But Addie wasn't like him. She didn't divide people into superior or inferior subspecies. Besides, somehow he'd completely escaped Kara's radar outside of the lab.

Her only regret was that she hadn't had a chance to tell off Kara and her boyfriend and that smirking lackey of theirs, Mack or Max or whatever, before they disappeared. Mr. Foy saw to it that they were on a bus to Boston immediately after they were caught out of concern that they'd be targets for bullying if they stuck around.

Ironic much?

Dr. Brooks called Addie back to earth. “Go on. How did the exercise ball fit into your experiment?”

Addie refocused on the presentation. “We rolled the ball down an inclined plane.” Shot of Will and Kate rolling down a board.

“As you can see,” Dex continued when Addie proceeded to the slide of the two gerbils happily munching on treats, “no attraction. However, when we chose a more treacherous route for a different pair of gerbils, Brad and Angelina”—slide of ball at the top of the back hallway stairs—“the results were more encouraging.”

Dr. Brooks let out a small gasp. “You threw them down the stairs?”

“Not threw,” Dex said. “More like gently bounced.”

“They were perfectly fine,” Addie added quickly. “I swear. Look!”

Indeed, the next photo was of Brad and Angelina out of their ball and putting their newfound attraction to full and productive use.

“Oh,” Dr. Brooks said quietly. “Oh, my.”

Addie felt her cheeks go warm. Dex seemed to have no problem discussing this outcome, which had led to several litters of baby gerbils. And, really, she shouldn't have been embarrassed. This was science, after all. Biology!

Still . . .

Dr. Brooks switched on the lights, appearing rather flustered. “I will admit that your PowerPoint is more effective than the version you showed me in May, though it definitely needs polishing.”

Dex groaned. “I think it's fine.”

“It'll get there,” Dr. Brooks said. “Do you think you can replicate this final part of the experiment with humans safely?”

“We won't put anyone in danger,” Addie said, wishing Dex would chime in instead of standing there moping about having to do more polishing. “And since Lauren and Alex will act as controls, all they'll have
to do is stare at each other for ten minutes each session and journal their thoughts before and after. That's pretty safe.”

“Not for Lauren and the other volunteer,” Dex said. “Especially at the end, when we strand them on Owl Island overnight.”

Not helping,
Addie thought
.
“Before that, we plan to check their progress by surreptitiously observing their social interactions at the Midsummer Night's Dream Dance on Saturday. We will monitor which boy Lauren chooses, Alex or the other participant. If our thesis is on track, then she will choose the other participant and we will proceed with Owl Island. If not, then . . .”

“Back to the whiteboard,” Dex finished.

“I wonder,” Dr. Brooks said, getting up and opening the blinds. “Why not use a different girl and boy like you did with the gerbils?”

“We want to show that, all things being equal, given two similarly attractive guys, Lauren will ultimately prefer the one with whom she's endured more . . .
thrilling
. . . experiences,” Addie answered. “And, similarly, the same will be true for the boys. That is, if the other guy you've found meets that criteria.”

“He absolutely does. He's extremely handsome and intelligent, and that's not merely my opinion.” Dr. Brooks flicked on the lights. “Headmaster Foy interviewed him
this morning and called me with the green light.”

“Excellent!” Addie smiled at Dexter, expecting him to be relieved.

He wasn't. “He's already been approved? But we haven't even met him.”

“That's about to be rectified.” Dr. Brooks peeked out her door and crooked her finger. “Why don't you stop sweeping for a second, Kris, and step into my office.”

Addie felt her legs go numb as Kris entered carrying a broom and decked head to toe in the ugly green uniform of the Academy's Buildings and Grounds employees.

No. Way.

Dr. Brooks said, “Dexter. Adelaide. I'd like you to meet participant number three.”

“Kris Condos?”
Dex slapped his forehead. “You have got to be kidding. Is this a joke?”

Wait, Addie thought, confused. Dex knew him? That was odd. Dex didn't know anyone besides her, the faculty, and the nurses down at the infirmary.

Dr. Brooks knit her brows. “I'm surprised you two are acquainted. I thought for sure . . .”

“Not personally,” Dex interjected, “but . . .” He took Dr. Brooks aside and whispered in her ear.

“Yes, yes, that's true,” she said, breaking apart. “As long as you don't have a close relationship with him, it shouldn't affect the outcome of the experiment.”

Dex scowled. “Close relationship?
With him?
Definitely not.”

Addie remained baffled. What was going on? What did Dex know that she didn't? Why was he giving Kris such a dirty look?

Unless . . . ? Oh god. No. The
sins
. The
mistakes
. The
screwed-up neural pathways
!

She looked to Dex, who confirmed her fears by whispering under his breath three simple words: “Kara. Wilkes's. Boyfriend.”

The news hit her hard, like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. It knocked the wind out of her and left her dizzy.
Kris was Kara's boyfriend.
He'd been part of the trio that had ransacked her sanctuary, smashing tanks and terrariums, sending the gerbils scurrying in fear and the frogs into dark corners, only to be found days later shriveled and dead.

She'd been so stupid, so incredibly blind. How had it not dawned on her before that of course this was why Kris had been expelled? Ed knew. That's why he was so standoffish in the car. That must have been why Tess stopped Kris at the top of the escalator, to tear him a new one. She was good at tearing new ones.

“And you, Addie?” Dr. Brooks was saying, her voice sounding far off. “Do
you
have a personal relationship with Kris?”

She pivoted, prepared to let him have it. Her fists clenched and the muscles in her jaw ached, she was so angry. “Do I have a personal relationship with Kris? Is that what you're asking?”

Ar
e
you kidding?
she wanted to scream.
Kris Condos and his jerk of a girlfriend ruined my junior year. They ruined the lab and they almost ruined me.
They had no business doing what they did.

Instead, when she locked on to his deep-chocolate-brown eyes, all she could think of was their conversation on the plane and how remorseful he'd been, how willing to make amends, how sad she was that he was burdened with guilt.

“Yes?” The corners of those eyes crinkled, and despite her swirling fury, something inside her snapped.

Then things got really weird.

Her pulse fluttered and her senses sharpened. She should have understood what was going on in her brain, except she seemed to have inexplicably forgotten everything from her research. (Though that, of course, was another symptom of PEA overload, which she would have recognized if Kris hadn't been a few feet away all tall and dark in his butt-ugly uniform.)

Dex scoffed. “Of course Addie doesn't know Condos.”

Kris opened his mouth and then closed it, smiling at her slightly. Addie did the same.

What was wrong with her?

“Then we can get started right away.” Dr. Brooks clapped once. “Addie, what time are you meeting Lauren tomorrow?”

She licked her oddly dry lips. “Noon.”

Kris was still looking at her with that smile.

“How does noon work for you, Kris?” Dr. Brooks asked. “It might eat into your lunch break, no pun intended, but I will add fifteen minutes to your work schedule.”

Kris blinked. “What am I doing?”

“A research project for our Athenian Award submission,” Dex drawled with disgust. “Addie and I are running an experiment measuring the difference between male and female responses to various stimuli. Do try to keep up.”

Even though Kris deserved the cut, she felt bad. “Sorry,” she said. “Dex didn't mean it.”

“Yes, I did.”

“It's okay,” Kris said. “It's not like I don't have it coming.”

“True that.” Dex folded his arms, superior.

Dr. Brooks escorted Kris to the door. “All righty, then. See you at noon, and thank you for volunteering.”

When he left, she swung around and placed her hands on her hips. “As scientists, I hope you two would ignore
whatever slights we perceive Kris has committed. He is trying to repay his debt to the Academy and for that he should be commended, not ridiculed. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Dex said, “With all due respect, the headmaster should have consulted us first. How can we be objective when . . . ?”

Dr. Brooks wagged a finger. “I'll have none of that. You know how I feel about grudges. Anger and resentment lead to destruction.”

Addie had to agree. Anger was only useful to precipitate a rush of adrenaline so one could battle a predator. Therefore, from an evolutionary standpoint, there was no reason to hold on to this purely temporal emotion.

Dr. Brooks said, “You must strictly adhere to the rules of scientific procedure, not your emotions. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” Addie and Dex said simultaneously.

“Therefore, can I count on you two to conduct this experiment with professional detachment?”

They nodded, duly shamed.

“Good. Now, if your so-called B.A.D.A.S.S. theory is correct, Lauren and Alex will end up as platonic friends,” Dr. Brooks concluded, crossing her fingers, “while Lauren and Kris will be something more. If your system is as effective as you claim, then you should be able to delude anyone into feeling as if they were falling madly in love
.
”

A few minutes later, Dr. Brooks left to go to her next class, and Dex returned to his crabs, while Addie simply stared at nothing on her laptop, replaying those words over and over in her mind.

If your system is as effective as you claim, then you should be able to delude anyone into feeling as if they were falling madly in love.

Did she dare? Was it wrong? Did she have a choice?

Yes. Yes. And, unfortunately, no.

Then she picked up her phone and texted the only person who could possibly help.

Ed.

“T
hat's what I was trying to tell you after Ed dropped us off. Kris is Kara Wilkes's boyfriend.” Tess handed Addie the pitcher of limeade. “So how do you feel about him now?”

“Dr. Brooks says we're supposed to ignore our emotions and follow scientific procedure.” Addie took the pitcher from her and placed it on the folding table.

“That doesn't answer the question,” Tess said, opening a Tupperware container of cookies. “Earlier, you told me it didn't matter what he'd done. Something about neural whatever . . .”

“Pathways. This morning it didn't, but . . .” She aimlessly picked a cookie from the bowl and bit. “I don't know what to think.”

Not even hours of immersing herself in the latest bulletin from the Caltech Neurophysiology Department and flipping through images of coronal brain sections had been able to stem her whirring thoughts of Kris and Kara and the awful things they'd done to her.

Tess called at five to remind Addie about dinner, even if she wasn't the least bit hungry (another disturbing aftereffect of the adrenaline rush), and that she was supposed to help out with the evening games as Assistant PC.

“I can't,” Addie said, scrolling to a particularly fascinating axial section of the interpeduncular cistern. “I'm working.”

“I don't care. You need to meet the girls and get out of that dark, windowless cave. Anyway, you promised Foy you'd help. You begged to be made my assistant.”

So Addie packed up her computer, grabbed a tasteless turkey sandwich from the vending machine, and ate it as she hiked up to the quad, dreading the prospect of having to be social.

When she arrived, she found Tess on the green, wrestling with a folding table, practically near tears.

Addie dropped her backpack and grabbed the other end. “Let me help you. Geesh, Tess, it's not worth crying over.” She pulled out the four legs and rolled it to standing. “Voilà!”

But Tess was in a full sob. “Ed was supposed to help me. He completely blew me off.”

“No, he didn't. It's my fault, I . . .”

Tess snapped up. “Your fault? Oh, come on, Addie.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Don't do that.”

“Do what?” Addie moved the table under a tree, for shade.

“Cover for him.”

“I'm not . . .”

“If Ed thinks of me as just a little high schooler because he's off to college next month, then screw him.”

“I don't think . . .”

Tess threw open the lid of a red cooler and removed a bottle of limeade. “Do you know what he said to me last night? I asked him when he was planning on coming to visit next fall. He said he didn't know if he could because he got only one break for three days in October and that wasn't long enough to fly all the way from Chicago to Boston, and Thanksgiving he'd have to be with his family.” She blinked. “I mean, what a jerk!”

Addie bit her lip so she wouldn't accidentally blurt out something she shouldn't. “You might be blowing this out of proportion.”

“Blowing this out of proportion?”

Addie winced.

“Unless he flies to Paris for Christmas, I won't see him until next summer!” Tess yelled. “That is, if he can
work me into his schedule.”

“You better get yourself together. Here they come.”

Addie pointed to a pair of impossibly blond, skinny girls laconically strolling across the grass in absurd six-inch sandals. She feared for the integrity of their ankles.

Tess whipped out a mirror and dabbed a tissue at her smeared mascara. “Bree and Tay. The taller is Tay. She's the leader. Bree is the Igor to her Dr. Frankenstein. They're best friends back home in LA and they're super-pissed that they've been separated and put with different roommates.”

There was a recipe for mean girl disaster, Addie thought. “Who are their roommates?”

Tess gestured briefly to a slightly chunky girl with a pretty face and brown hair streaked with purple. “That's Emma, Bree's roomie. Friendly. Midwestern. Type you can't help but like. How do I look?”

“Fine. Do you have Visine?”

“Do the Kardashians have plastic surgeons on speed dial? Of course.” She rummaged in her bag and squeezed in a few drops.

“Who's the smiley girl sitting next to Emma?” Addie asked.

“That's Tay's roommate, Shreya Khan. She's from India, so she wins the farthest-from-home award—besides the exchange students, of course. Her dad's a
massively famous Bollywood actor,” Tess said. “Worth gazillions, with homes all over the world. Tay has no idea how cool she is. If she did, she probably wouldn't treat her like crap.”

Several others arrived. Zuri, who was from Baltimore and took classes at Johns Hopkins; Rachel, an apparent piano prodigy from Manhattan; and Fiona and Mindy, the exchange students from China.

They made up Tess's “core peer group,” which meant that she was completely responsible for handling all their concerns, including roommate conflicts and other problems.

“Tay and Bree keep threatening to run away, they hate it here so much,” Tess said while they sat apart from the group on their own blanket. “I told them security wouldn't let them drive off campus but they said that didn't matter. They'd walk. Like, in those shoes?”

Shreya had her hand up. “Are we doing the Battle of the Sexes tonight?”

“That's the plan,” Tess chirped, pouring juice into the cups. “Would you mind passing these around, assistant?”

It took a second for Addie to realize Tess meant her. “Oh, sure. Right.” She carefully lifted the red cups and handed them to Bree and Tay, who curled their lips in disgust.

“Ew. What is this gross green stuff?” Tay took a sniff.
“It smells like toilet bowl cleaner.”

“High fructose corn syrup, filtered water, lime pulp, and green dye number six. You want me to draw the carbon chain?” Addie answered.

The girls glanced at Tess.

“This is Addie,” she said. “She's my assistant.”

Addie said, “What's a Battle of the Sexes?”

“A chance for butt kicking,” Emma declared with a fist pump, the rest of them applauding in confirmation.

Interesting. Physical combat did not pop up in Addie's research as an appropriate summer school field game. “Will there be artillery?” she inquired. “Any mortally wounded?”

“If I have anything to say about it,” Shreya answered, setting off a round of giggling.

“We have a few minutes before the boys get here, so why don't you tell them a little bit about yourself,” Tess suggested. “The normal bits.”

She wiped her hands on her skirt and proceeded. “Like Tess said, I'm Addie, your Assistant PC, and a rising senior at the Academy who's here for the summer to manipulate sensory perceptions of the opposite sex . . .”

Tess murmured, “Be normal. Like we've practiced.”

Zuri, the one sitting closest, said, “Normalcy is overrated. Let her speak.”

“Yeah, I want to hear about manipulating the opposite
sex,” Rachel said, smiling at Emma.

Addie lifted her chin and continued. “Thank you for that vote of confidence. Actually, I'm conducting an experiment measuring the male/female reactions to various stimuli at a chemical level. I can't really discuss it further.”

Shreya said,
“Ooookay.”

“However, you should know that as your official Assistant PC, I will help you work through whatever relationship problems you are experiencing. So don't hesitate to come to me with any relationship issue. Straight. Gay. Bi. Transgender. I have extensively researched these concerns.”

She gave Tess the thumbs-up, but Tess missed this, due to the fact that her face was in her hands. Clearly, she was so overcome by the sensitive insight of Addie's speech that she'd started to weep.

Addie said, “Now you know why the headmaster made me your assistant. To help.”

“Yes,” Tess said wearily, as a gaggle of male summer students rounded the corner, Ed in the lead, tossing a white volleyball.

If he had any clue that Tess was pissed, he didn't show it, even when she turned her back to him and folded her arms.

“The field is really muddy thanks to the rain,” he said.

“Afraid of getting dirty?” she grumbled.

“Not us. We're game if you are.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right. You want us to call it off. Like we would.”

The girls cheered.

“We're so totally going to win this,” said one of the boys, snatching the ball out of Ed's hands and jogging down the hill to the field, everyone following.

Tess got up and started collecting cups. “You go without me. I'll be right there.”

“Ed and I will clean up,” Addie said. “You go with the kids, Tess.” She slid her eyes to Ed. “He and I need to talk, anyway.”

Tess looked from her to Ed and back to Addie again. “Okay. Thanks.”

They watched Tess stroll off, her sundress fluttering in the summer breeze, exposing the bright pink bikini she wore underneath.

“She's so amazing,” Ed said with a sigh of longing.

“She's super-mad at you.” Addie recapped the limeade and replaced it in the cooler. “Did you know that?”

Ed cocked his head, surprised. “No. Why?”

“Because you said you weren't going to see her again.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You said you wouldn't be able to get away this fall to visit. Can you help me with this table?”

“I'll do the whole thing. Stand back.” He flipped it over and folded in the legs. “I was only being honest. I have no idea how hard school's going to be or whether I'll be able to get away. I might have to study constantly. It is the University of Chicago. You know, where fun goes to die.”

“Sounds like my kind of place,” Addie said.

Ed laughed.

“I'm serious.”

“I don't doubt it.” He carried the table to the gazebo and came back, frowning thoughtfully. “Okay. I'll talk to her and explain what I meant and I'll try to get away over break if I can. But she has to understand that everything is up in the air for me, too. Give me the cooler. I'll put it with the table.”

She handed him the cooler. “She's afraid you're going to leave her behind when you get to college and that you've already begun thinking of her as a little high schooler. Her words, not mine.”

“Tess? A little high schooler? There is nothing little about Tess.”

“She might not take that the right way.”

“Fair enough.” They headed down the hill to the field. “How you holding up?” Ed asked.

“Okay. Still trying to process the fact that Kris is Kara Wilkes's boyfriend. I don't know how I missed that. Even
with that long conversation on the flight, I never put two and two together. Must have been the turbulence that addled my otherwise perceptive faculties.”

Ed grinned. “If you say so.”

“You won't tell Tess about my call, will you?”

He slid a finger over his lips. “It's in the vault.”

“What vault?”

“It's an expression. Means I won't tell anyone.”

“That's a relief. Because she would not understand.”

“She will, eventually. By the way, I ran into Kris at dinner and asked if he wanted to join us tonight. I hope you're cool with that.”

That was a surprise. Ed had been so cold to him in the car. “
Suuuure
. He's in my experiment tomorrow so it's not like I can avoid him.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it.” Ed punched her lightly on the shoulder. “Hang in there, you rodent slayer.”

For a second, she was shocked, until she realized he was making a joke and laughed.

“See? Humor's the best medicine,” he said.

That wasn't true. The best medicine was the one that had been genetically targeted to treat a particular illness. But Addie supposed that was too awkward to embroider on a pillow.

A couple of students were resetting the spikes to hold
up the volleyball net at the far end of the athletic fields near the woods. Ed hadn't been exaggerating when he called it muddy.

Since it was straight-up boys versus girls, there would be none of that choosing sides for volleyball awkwardness, though Tess insisted on taking Addie aside and offering her pointers such as not to duck with her hands over her head when the ball came to her.

“Hit it back. You can do that, right?” Tess paused. “I mean over the net.”

“Right. Absolutely,” Addie lied. Anything to get the game going so it could end and she could go back to the lab.

“She can do it,” a voice said from the other side.

Kris was in black running shorts and a tight gray T-shirt constructed from some sort of magical material that clung to his muscles and triggered a gush of epinephrine while her amygdala attempted to reconcile two conflicting signals from her prefrontal cortex: attraction and revenge.

“All right, everyone, play clean,” Ed shouted, tossing the ball to Shreya. “Girls go first.”

Addie and Kris faced each other.

“I know what you did, Kris Condos,” she said. “You and Kara.”

Shreya served the ball. It hit the net. Tess tossed it back
to her for another chance. “Warming up!”

Kris said. “I'm sorry. I didn't . . .”

“You did. That's why you . . .”

“Addie!” someone screamed just in time for her to look up and see the business end of the volleyball plummeting downward.

“I got it!” Tay cried, saving it with a pass to Emma, who spiked it over the net, where it fell between Dex and another boy.

“That was yours,” Dex said.

The other boy squinted and chucked the ball back to Shreya. “What? It was right on top of you, man.”

“Look, I can explain,” Kris said. “It's complicated.”

Addie rolled her eyes. “Please, don't even.” It was a phrase Tess occasionally used, much to Addie's annoyance, since it lacked both a transitive verb and a subject.