"What are you doing?" She stopped reading her book and peered over my shoulder.
"Oh, I'm making an algorithmic processing of kissing."
"What." She raised her eyebrow and spoke as if it was a pure statement of bewilderment, not even a question.
"Look at this chart I made; it's as if there's always a solution to getting a kiss. It's a concept I learned while studying psychology."
"Lemme see." She narrowed her eyes and her face experienced a pattern of emotions.
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"And you're saying, it will always work?"
"Should work...I mean, it's an algorithmic process...They guarantee success."
"Okay, thanks." She took the chart and folded it into her pocket.
"W-What? Hey, that was mine!"
"I'll be letting you know if this works or not. I'm your candidate for your experiment."
"B-But."
"Thank you." She patted my head and skipped out of my room.
"I am so changing my Netflix password."
YOU ARE READING
therapy
Short Story"they told us that we needed therapy, as if medication and tainted words could fix broken toys."
