From the opening chapter of my untitled science fiction novel
Blake hadn’t looked up for forty minutes.
I know this because I had been watching him and the clock on the wall behind him the entire time, as I normally would. I do this so much, it’s almost a bit of a game to me now. I like to try and guess how long it will take him to look up. Sometimes I can pin it down to the very second if I pay close enough attention to the look on his face. Sometimes it’s the only fun I get to have all day anymore, sitting here watching my brother experience probably every emotion he’s ever felt, so subtly and so silently, as if he doesn’t experience emotion at all. But I know better. Every tiny twitch in his eye and every slightly downturned lip might go unnoticed by everyone else in the world, but definitely not by me. It’s a boring game, really, but I’ve gotten pretty good at it, and I like to be good at things. Today, however, is one of the least fun days to play. It’s now been 54 minutes and 33 seconds exactly, and he still has barely even blinked, let alone looked up.
“Blake, you should try blinking for once. I hear it’s great for your eyes!” I said with a chuckle that was barely audible, but he still caught it.
“Blair, do you always have to be so lighthearted?” he said, finally looking up at me and rolling his eyes.
I stared at him blankly for a moment. It was like staring at a male version of myself in a lot of ways. We weren’t twins, though our parents really wished we were. Our birthdays were exactly one year and three weeks apart, and I never understood why Mom and Dad did that on purpose. Blake and I had the same fiery red curly hair, big hazel eyes with jade-green flecks throughout them, even the same porcelain skin. Pair that with the closeness in age, and to anyone but us, we were twins. But Blake had his own look. He kept his curls trimmed down so they sat about an inch off his head, the sides faded up like an army buzz. He really was a good-looking guy. He had a good amount of freckles, especially across the center of his face, and I always preferred his darker, more heavily speckled freckles to mine. His jaw was sharp and defined, especially when he clenched it from stress and anger. He even had a better smile than I did. We both always took care of our teeth, but he was blessed with perfectly straight ones that I’ve always been a little jealous of.
He always wore a different variation of the same outfit. Today it was a pair of casual black slacks and a slate grey collared polo with the university name embroidered on the right side of the chest, the top button undone since it was after hours and just the three of us in the lab. His shoes were the same basic loafers he wore most of the time. He owned this outfit in every boring color you could imagine, topped every day with his bright white lab coat. If he had just dressed himself better, he could have easily dated all the girls we went to high school with. Well, dressed himself better and actually wanted to date them all. But his career has always been more important to him. I’ve always admired that about him. His career has probably been just as important to me as it has been to him. I never really told him, but I followed him to work here at the college because I wanted to be by his side when he achieved things people thought were impossible. As annoying as he can be at times, I’ve always had faith that he was destined for great things, even though what he had just said to me sounded quite ridiculous.
“You do hear yourself when you talk, don’t you?” I said with a sigh as I watched him reach for his coffee cup without looking, because he was already back to his computer screen, typing viciously and clicking aggressively. As it turns out, my brother is not as graceful as I am, because typing one-handed and reaching for a coffee cup at the same time caused him to knock the cup right off the side of the table and onto the floor. He didn’t stop working. He didn’t even really acknowledge what he had done. Why would he? Courtney was already rushing to pick up the cup and clean up the mess before he could even blink, as she always was.
I leaned back in my chair and watched. It was so obvious how Courtney felt about Blake that it was almost hard to watch sometimes. I’m fairly certain she fell in love with him the moment they met. How Blake had remained oblivious to her feelings for the last three and a half years was a mystery of its own. I gave her a warm smile and mouthed “thank you” as she scurried by with the coffee-stained rags and empty cup.
“So, what’s the problem, Blake? I mean, I know what the problem is, but what are you stuck on at this point in the equation, or whatever it is you’re typing so furiously?”
“Don’t start, Blair. Not right now.”
He wasn’t typing anymore, although he was still staring at the screen as if the answer was hiding somewhere in plain sight and if he looked away, he would surely miss it. His right hand had found its way to the watch on his left wrist, his fingers tracing the edge of its face. Left, right, left again, the same way he always does when the answer to something is hiding in plain sight and he just can’t seem to find it. It’s almost as if he’s making sure time is still moving. He knew it would be. It always is, and that was the whole problem.
“Don’t start what? I’m just genuinely trying to understand where we are with things! Isn’t that basically my whole job description?”
“You know what I’m talking about. And no, that’s not your whole job description, and you know that. Even if it were, this isn’t classified under either of our jobs at the moment, remember?”
Of course I remembered. It would have been impossible to forget. I just couldn’t figure out why he was being so closed off. I know my lightheartedness gets to him, but I just wanted to know how close we were to figuring out something so catastrophically important to all of mankind.
“You don’t have to be so uptight about everything, you know? And I really don’t know what you’re talking about, but you could just tell me, and then I would know!”
“Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize anyone was still in here!”
The office door had come swinging open before any of us had time to panic. I heard Courtney gasp and couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of her actually attempting to hide under her desk, realizing it was too late to hide, and then just awkwardly sitting back in her chair like nothing had happened at all.
“Sorry, who are you? How did you get in here?” I asked, authority ringing in my voice. I was quite relieved at my ability to think on my feet at times like this.
“Oh, I’m Finneaus. Everyone calls me Finn. I work here.” He sounded as confused as he looked. “I just started three days ago. This is my first night alone. Last night, no one was in here when Carl brought me in to clean, so I just assumed it would be the same again tonight.” He still sounded more like he was asking than telling, but that was a good thing. He used a roll of garbage bags to point at the janitorial cart propping the door open.
“Carl said I’m not allowed to get overtime, and I really kinda like this job, so I don’t want to get fired. Do you guys mind if I just finish up in here? I won’t bother you. You won’t even notice I’m here.”
I could feel Blake’s eyes burning a hole through me th