The Inadequate Experiments: 1. White Noise [Rough Draft]

Part 2; Inequity - 12. Misdirections

I smiled to myself, resisting the urge to open my eyes, as Oliver’s hand trailed softly over my cheek bone. I knew the message behind his touch; time to wake up! I groaned and turned my head away, trying to hide from the light. He laughed and started tickling me, but that wasn’t what made me squirm away from him.

That wasn’t Oliver’s laugh.

I opened my eyes to find myself lying at home in my bed rather than on the bus cuddled up to Oliver and sat up in a flash, scrambling away from the boy in front of me. His face dropped, the light disappearing from his blue-grey eyes behind his glasses, and he ran a hand through his already ruffled brown hair in frustration. 

“You’re…” I struggled for words. “You’re still here.” I said simply, not moving any closer to him.

“Of course I’m still here.” He said defiantly, sitting up straighter. “You were the one who left, remember? I never went anywhere.”

“I… You’re not real, Cooper. You can’t be here.” I insisted.

He laughed humourlessly, shaking the mattress. “Not real?” He asked exasperatedly. “You have no idea. I feel insane. I mean, I must be, right? For me to have a girl in my head telling me constantly that I’m not real? I belong in some sort of mental institution. This is ridiculous.”

“Cooper, stop. You can’t—” My brain finally understood what he had said. “Wait, what?”

He sighed and looked down at the sheets on the bed as if they were suddenly very interesting.

“What did you just say?” I asked, my voice stronger than I felt.

Slowly, he looked up and met my eyes. “My name is Cooper Whittaker.” He told me. “I live in an apartment in Manhattan overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge. Last year, I graduated from St. Benedict’s Private School and I’m now scouting around for some sort of acting gig. Every night when I go to sleep, I dream about this girl called Sera. At first, I thought she was my Soul Mate, but then I heard her name on the news and found out she was actually Oliver Jackson’s Soul Mate. It didn’t really surprise me, though; she was way out of my league. Well, that, and she probably didn’t even know I exist. Then, in my dreams, she starts telling me I’m not real. I guess that means that pretty soon I’ll be in Manhattan Hospital’s psych ward.”

“But you can’t be real.” I insisted once more. “Calliope… Calliope said it’s psychosomatic. That it happens a lot. That I made you up. All… All this, just… no. No. I can’t. I refuse to believe that you’re real.”

“Why?” he cried. “Why won’t you believe me on this? Because you’re not happy with Oliver and don’t want to get your hopes up?”

“No, Cooper, because I am.” I snapped, the words falling from my mouth before I could stop them.

Cooper flinched. “You’re… what?”

I sighed. “I think I can be happy with Oliver. I think this could work. Maybe.”

Cooper rubbed his hands against his face almost violently. “Two weeks.” Was all he said.

“Two weeks until…?”

He flinched again. “You can’t even remember?”

I was still oblivious. “Obviously…”

Cooper pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his forehead on his kneecaps before looking up at me once more. “Two weeks until your appointment at the Scientists. Two weeks until you find out whether I’m real. Two weeks before you’ll even think about believing that I actually exist.”