The Cascading Waves of Caden Lee

08

CADEN LEE

I walk into psychology class, stoned off my mind when Mr. Rogers speaks up, "With your Finals coming up I've thought long and hard about what the Final should be. And I think it's time I reveal your Final Projects for the Semester, starting with the person next to you."

As I plop into my seat, Scarlett turns her head to me, nods once and shifts in her seat. Mr. Rogers clears his throat and continues, "The Locker Project."

My head snaps up.

"The Locker Project, Our Class has been funded to perform an experiment of sorts, in which it doesn't just involve you, but you and your partner."

Confused murmuring fills the once silent room, desk-mates looking at each other with a furrow in their brow.

"You all will be participating in a month long study, where you will share a locker. You will be required to visit the Locker 3 times a day, where you will then grab the supplies necessary for the next few classes. And maybe exchange a few words."

Me and Scarlett glance towards each other, and a silent conversation shows in the shine of our eyes. What is he on about?

"By the end of the month, a group of Professionals will evaluate how close each and every pair got to each other throughout the month. You will be tested 3 times overall, once before the experiment, mid-way, and once after. And will we then see the chemistry that forms between the two."

Noise erupts within the room, dozens of pairs of two shooting glances towards each other. And when Scarlett keeps her confused glance locked onto me, I begin to wonder if this is some bad trip, or if I'm experiencing some psychotic break.

Her mouth opens, rosy lips forming words that I only process seconds after she spoke, "I guess you're my partner." And right she was. With her black, sleek hair falling down her chest and icy blue gaze, I can't help but be happy we got paired together. But I shake that thought away before I think anything too crazy.

"I wasn't expecting this when I enrolled in this class."

"It's a nice surprise though, isn't it? Kinda exciting."

I think over her words,"Beats Algebra, I never realized how good I had it Freshman year with Algebra 1."

Her mouth splits open into a grin and she nods her head, "Oh my god, me too. With everyone hyping up how hard Junior year is too, you'd expect we'd be prepared."

"I don't think anyone could ever be prepared for the monstrosity of Junior year."

"My test scores really bring my ego down a notch," she snorts, pulling out her phone entrapped in a pink, bedazzled phone-case. It vibrates in her hand, her blue eyes flickering to what I assume to be a text.

The bell rings, and she pockets her phone. "I've got to go, hand me your phone."

"My phone?"

Her hand reaches out steadily, palm facing up. "Yeah, how else am I gonna text you about the project?"

"Oh, right." I can feel my cheeks burn and I place my phone in her hand, pressing my lips together tightly as she types her number in. My phone's quickly placed back upon my palm, "There, I've got to go. I'll text you later, okay?"

"Okay."

She's out the door before I comprehend her words.

_._._._._._._._._._._

When I think back on my old routine it's almost laughable compared to my new one. Life has so much more excitement now that I've scurried myself into this sinkhole, and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon.

A knock sounds on my door, light and airy, gentle. I can immediately tell who the knock's from, because though Jessie is anything but gentle, her knocks resemble a gust of wind against the doorway. I think she's just scared of hurting her knuckles.

"Can I come in?" The door knob twists and the door slowly cracks open with a creak, the face of my sister appearing in the doorway. "Yeah, what do you need?" I question, glancing up from my phone and motioning for her to stop hovering at my doorway.

With a nod, the door clicks shut behind her as she plops down onto my cushioned desk chair. "Not to be like...weird or anything, but lately you've been, I don't know, withdrawn." She mutters with a huff, her blue eyes inspecting the journals and books stacked onto my desk.

My breath catches in my throat, tongue going dry as I watch my sister inspect item after item. And I wish for nothing else in this moment other than my brain to be as blank as it is now. Maybe I would've mustered up a better excuse.

"Uhm," I stammer out, "Sorry, I didn't realize I seemed that way." Silence fills the room as she reads the papers on my desk, probably looking for a distraction. The longer we sit silently, the more my urge to start over-explaining grows, and it goes on so long the words start flowing out.

"School's been stressful, you know, with basketball and everything?" I try to muster up my most sincere expression as I say this, my heart beating rapidly. I don't want her to question things. I don't want her to worry.

I don't want her to tell Mom.

Her hands still, placing a folder back onto my desk as her glance turns to me once more. "Oh, but you're keeping your grades up, right? You know you won't be able to play if they drop."

I think back onto my past assignments, only to realize I don't know. I usually stay on top of these things, my grades, my family, friends.

But for now I push aside the ache in my chest and reply with all the confidence I can muster, "Yup."

The conversation stills, and once a few seconds of tension pass I see Jessie begin to get up from my chair. Her face looks blank, enough so I can't determine what's really going on in her head, but her eyes look teary.

"Hey, Jess, Wait-" My door clicks shut, and my mouth snaps closed. A quiet patter of footsteps follow, and when I hear the clatter of plates and forks of my Mom and Sister having dinner without me, I almost allow the tears collecting in the whites of my eyes to slip down my cheeks.

But I don't, I grab my keys and wait until the house falls quiet to sneak down the stairs and out the door.