Just Kidding, But Seriously...

An Experiement Gone Terribly, Horribly, Awfully Wrong

Mark my words: there is nothing scarier than watching a karate-chopping nerd piercingly stare you down from behind the lens of his thick glasses as he slowly tugs the edge of his rubber glove down so that it fits snugly around his hand. His brown eyes keen and narrowed, a deathly serious frown shaping his lips, and his fingers, enveloped in latex, flexing leisurely in mid-air as if he were playing an invisible harp at an awkward angle.

"You look like you're about ready to tie me down and shove that gloved hand up my butt," I commented uneasily, shifting restlessly in my place. "What is it they call that? A posture exam?"

"Prostate," Luke corrected, giving me one of those looks he always wore when he thought someone was being stupid. "It's prostate exam. And only a finger is inserted into the an-"

"Spare me the details, doctor," I interjected. I put my hands up, palms facing him as if I were attempting to ward off Luke and his horrifyingly graphic medical examination descriptions.

Luke shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just know that putting it out of your mind now doesn't mean you and I won't both have to have one of those exams in the future."

"I'm giving myself a couple of years of blissful ignorance," I replied. "Now how about we got on with this experiment of yours?"

"Never thought I'd see you so eager," he said with a smirk.

"I've sort of just accepted my fate."

He turned to his lab station- a makeshift mini laboratory set up in a cramped corner of his messy bedroom. And when I say "messy", I truly mean "messy" in its purest, most concrete definition. Luke's bedroom looked like a closet had barfed out all of its contents onto the room, blanketing the floor, the table lamp, the bed, with clothes. His small bed was undone, his rumpled covers spilling from its edge and pouring onto the ground. Some undergarments that I would have rather not seen peppered the dirty floor; one notable pair of Star Wars briefs dangled from the ceiling fan like a flag representative of the United Geeks of America.

A variety of science and math-themed posters covered the walls, some depicting complicated equations to complicated science-y thingies I had never heard of; a few memes could be found in the midst of the educational visuals. And don't even get me started on the smell. It was very peculiar; not one that I could accurately describe-but if I had to give it my best try, I'd say it resembled a merciless blend of nose-burning, eye-pricking chemicals. Having visited a few times, I knew that this place didn't always smell like this (otherwise Luke would have probably dropped dead from some sort of air poisoning); rather, it was the experiment brewing and bubbling in his little lab that had contaminated the air with the poignant smell.

All in all, the bedroom was exactly one would expect it to be, considering this was Luke we were talking about. Very "mad scientist-esque."

"Oh, come on," Luke replied lightly, picking up a vial filled with clear, blue liquid; it was fizzy and burped out wisps of mist that quickly dissolved into the musty bedroom air. "My experiments aren't that bad."

"Is that why you made me sign a waiver a few minutes ago?"

"Yes."

I grimaced at the back of his head, wishing that I hadn't ditched Gwen after school for this crap. I had wanted to hang out with her, and she seemed just as reluctant to let me go as I felt. The school day had been great; I hung out with her a lot more, and we did more of that kissing stuff. By now the entire student body knew of Gwen and me, and I was surprised to learn that many people had been rooting for the two of us to get together. Yep, as it turns out, there was some hardcore shipping going on behind our backs; fan-fictioners called us their OTP.