The Boy In My Head

2

I force a smile. "Really, Dad. I am fine. I can't wait to get home and see how this version feels." Dad smiles back, and I can see J.P. out of the corner of my eye forcing a smile of his own. J.P. seems unsure about my words, but my dad looks like he believes me, and that's all that matters right now. "Okay." Dad gives me a quick kiss on the forehead. "I'll see you at home. I love you, Rachel." "Love you, too, Dad." I jump down from the table, grab my bag, and sling it over my shoulder. "Bye," I wave to the other people in the room before I leave. I ride the elevator down to the first floor and walk across the street near the Fountain. The Fountain is this big courtyard area in the middle of the city where tons of people hang out. There are mostly big corporation buildings surrounding it, but there are cafes and shops in their lower levels, so groups of people are always sitting along the edge of the actual fountain. I spot a few people from school hanging out nearby. Blonde hair and an attractive smile from the cutest guy in the group sends my heart fluttering. That's Will. I don't think he sees me, but I lean down to unlock my bike and let my hair conceal my face anyway so that I don't have to meet my classmates' eyes. I could use my car if I wanted to—the one Dad bought me a few years ago—but I prefer my bike. It's the best way for me to get my exercise in. Dad used to tell me that years ago, people would have to operate their cars manually kind of like how I operate my bike, but now they're self-driving. Dad even told me that people once needed to go through classes and get licenses to drive cars. That seems kind of silly to me. Dad tells me a lot of stories about the olden days, how things were when he was young. When I was little, he used to tell me about the crazy amount of energy people would use and that it was actually warming up the world. Global warming, they called it. Crazy, isn't it? But it's not like that anymore. I guess somewhere along the way, people realized things needed to change. And it's ironic. Even though our implants have helped get rid of the mundane things about life, people have become more active and involved in things. Like, we have full capabilities to have everyone go to school online, but no one wants to be completely secluded or study alone, so we don't really do that anymore. And even though we have cars to take us places, most people like me ride on their bikes when it's not too far because it saves us energy. Anyway, I don't mean to rant, but Dad's stories have always fascinated me. I pedal at a moderate pace back home. It isn't too far—just a few miles. Despite my anxiety from earlier, I'm anxious to use the new tech Dad is beta testing on me, so on the way home, I try out a few tricks on my watch. Without saying a word, I bring up the GPS app and have it guide me home. I notice almost immediately how much smoother communication seems and how quick the response time is. Of course, I don't need the GPS app because I know my way home. I look out across the landscape. The tall buildings of the city are already behind me, and I can see the wind turbines rotating in the distance. Glimmers of light shine off the solar panels of the one and two story houses. I decide to test out a different app on my watch, telling it launch my music. Suddenly, something hard hit my head, so hard that I fall off my bike and it skids across the sidewalk. I throw my hands beneath me, but they do little to catch my fall. I skin my elbow. It stings, but it's nothing that can't be fixed easily.

The pounding in my head doesn't stop. I squeeze my eyes shut tight to ease the thumping, but that doesn't seem to work. Quiet , I think. Just like that, the pounding in my head transforms into a low melodic tune. Oh. After a second, I realize what's happening. Of course. My father briefed me about this aspect before I went in for the upgrade. Why didn't I listen closer? He had said that instead of audio playing through my watch speakers, it would come through the implant and play as if it was in my head. Genius, really, but I could have used a little more of a forewarning, like, "Rachel, if it feel like your head is being cracked open, don't worry. That's just music." I roll my eyes at the thought then laugh a little at myself for being so afraid of the music. I climb back on my bike and let the music get louder in my head. As I pedal back home, I decide the music is really pretty cool. It's definitely something I'm going to take notes on for the beta test.