This Is My Brain in Love - I. W. Gregorio Page 0,101

to be here: (1) He’s following up on his task for today (if so, then why didn’t he mention this in his e-mail?), or (2) They’re talking about me (if so, then why didn’t she mention this in her text?).

I don’t bother locking up my bike. No one would steal that piece of crap in this neighborhood. I let it drop onto the Venkatrams’ lawn and go to their front porch to peer in the decorated glass bordering their giant oak door. I don’t see anyone sitting in their living room, so I hop down to a side window. No one in their den, either, or in their kitchen.

Priya’s bedroom is on the second floor on the other side of the building, and when I look up I can see the curtains are pulled tightly shut, but there’s a sliver of light shining through.

I realize I’m shaking. There’s a throbbing starting to develop in my right temple. I don’t know what to do. Do I call them so they can ignore me? Do I make like a psycho and throw rocks at Priya’s window? Do I just run away? Do I just give up on everything?

I lean over to pick up a pebble from the ground, weigh it in my hand. But who am I kidding? I have terrible aim. I’m about to turn tail and just leave when my eyes catch on movement in the window just below Priya’s room. It’s her father’s office, but sometimes she does work there, too. My heart leaps. Maybe my first theory was true.

I creep in closer and see that the two of them are both at the main desk, but they’re not looking at the screen. They’re looking at each other, bodies angled close enough together that they look like conspirators. Will’s back is facing me, so I can only see the hint of his profile, but I can tell from the curve of his cheek that he’s smiling. And Priya? She’s glowing and blushing in a way I’ve never seen her look when a boy’s involved.

I think back to Will’s e-mail. That little exclamation point after “Priya’s really talented!” And the big question mark after “Call me when you want to discuss?” And then I imagine walking back to my bike, forgetting to put my bicycle lights on, and taking the main roads back to A-Plus. Maybe when I crossed one of the more minor intersections, one without stoplights, someone would run a stop sign and there’d be an accident. A shiver runs through me at how delicious this sounds, what a relief.

I wonder if Priya would still put together my tribute video when I died. Maybe Will would write my obituary, maybe my death would tear them apart? Or maybe it’d drive them closer. With my luck, I’d die and everyone would just end up happier.

Well, misery loves company.

Before I know it, I’m hammering on the window to the Venkatrams’ office with the pebble I picked up from the ground. At the sound, Priya and Will jump back from each other, heads swiveling to the window. Will is wide-eyed, terrified, like the day when my dad caught us parked in his car. Priya looks startled at first, then relieved, but then oddly guilty. And that look of guilt? It sets off a jealous righteousness like it’s the freaking Olympic flame.

This Is My Brain on Panic

WILL

Priya’s house, it turns out, is in the same development as Tim’s, so I get a weird sense of déjà vu when I walk in. The place has the exact same layout, except it’s inverted, so the office she takes me to is facing south instead of north.

“I think it’s really special, what you did,” I tell her as she pulls an extra chair up to the office desk. “It’s clear how much love you have for the Wus, and the food they cook.”

Priya smiles and busies herself with pulling out some sheets of printer paper to sketch a storyboard on. “What can I say? Jos is my bestie.” She fidgets with a pen for a while, leans forward until she’s close enough that I can see the flecks in the iridescent blue eyeshadow she’s wearing, blinks, then leans back again like she was repelled by a magnetic field. “So, what is it that you wanted to do with this video?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what the A-Plus brand is. It’s a different place to eat than, say, a Panda Express at a food court.