Asymptotes

ix

"Holden, did you send me a picture of your dick?" Michael calls through the closed bathroom door.  I spit my toothpaste out onto the mirror and open the door.

"Michael, why the hell would I send you a picture of my genitalia?" I yell back, yanking open the door, wiping my mouth with a towel.

"Well, then how do you explain this?" Michael wails, shoving the phone with my supposed penis into my face.

"Dude, what the hell?" I shout, pushing the device out of my way.

"You have to help me!  Someone sent me a picture of their private parts and I must find the culprit!" Michael says, pacing the room.

"Okay, just give me the phone," I sigh, holding out my hand in anticipation.

"Are you sure, Holden?" he asks warily, taking cautious steps before me.  "Because this is some serious stuff."

"Just give me the damn phone, Michael."

"Okay, your funeral, man," Michael says, handing over the phone.

"Michael, I think you're forgetting that I actually see this piece of male anatomy attached to myself everyday.  It's not the end of the world," I answer, taking the phone.  I take a look at the unknown number and then at the picture.

"So, Watson?  Any discoveries?" Michael asks impatiently as he taps his foot.

"Do you have Autumn's number?" I cut in.

Michael scoffs and flips his nonexistent long hair over his shoulder.  "I'm an independent woman!  The only four contacts I have are you, June, and my parents.  I don't need no other!"

"If you ever shut up, I would've been able to tell you earlier that this picture of a supposed penis is a sausage on a pan.  And Autumn sent it."

"What?" he gasps, a hand at his chest, wounded.  "What have I ever done to her?" he cries out, scandalized.

"I don't know, but you can't ask her at lunch, she isn't going to be there, she has art club.  Ask her tonight at bowling," I respond, shoving my books into my backpack.

Michael's taken aback expression is quickly replaced with a glinting mischievous one.  "Now, now, Holden, how do you know that?"

"If you think logically, which obviously you don't when you're with June, you would know that there's an obnoxious amount of times that you and June are off in your own world and the only person I have left to talk to is Autumn, who's too shy to say anything about anything but her schedule.  Surprise, surprise," I sarcastically retort, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.  "Besides, who do you think I am, Michael?  I've known her for 3 3/4 days, hardly enough time to develop a crush."

"Well, you know what they say about love at first sight," he winks.

"Actually, I do know," I say, holding up a finger to rebuff.

"No!  No, please, no, anything but your stupid research rants.  Please stop.  No, I'm going to cry!  HOLDEN!" he exclaims, making my smirk grow wider.

"According to a survey of 5,000 individuals, ages 21-70, researchers discovered that 41% of all men and 29% of all women have experienced love at first sight.  More men experience love at first sight, which makes your previous assumption understandable, because they are more visually oriented.  Women are more cautious because they are the carriers of the egg.  That's what you meant, right?"

"Ugh, you're a lost cause," Michael groans.

"Aren't we all?"

**