Experiment X

Chapter 5: Connecting the Dots

I was casually crossing the campus field, enjoying the groggy weather most people would find extremely depressing – pathetic fallacy isn’t real – and observing the steroid junkies play with a ball, when I got that feeling again. It was like someone was burning holes in the back of my head just by staring at me.

   Quickly, I whipped my head to the sides, checking to see if someone looked out of place but like every time this sensation came, no one was around. And suddenly, my mind fled back to Xander. I pondered over his possible identity for hours at a time, to be left answerless in the end. It doesn’t make sense; I’ve been living with this intense case of amnesia for a while and no one has bothered to make any contact with me…so why now?

   The feeling instantly disappeared when I was engulfed in the synthetic cold of the student recreation center. The thing is, it was replaced by an even more perplexing feeling; an entire rooms eyes on me.

   I was the center of attention, yay. Note the sarcasm.

Trying to get past the thoughts telling me to punch something, I made my way to the receptionist’s desk, but not without throwing the odd glance to anyone who whispered something in the deafening silence.

   “Hi” I said as flatly as I possibly could. She looked up at me with a startled look, but it quickly changed to curiosity as she quickly gave me the once over.

   What is it with these people? Have they never seen a human…or a girl?

   “Hello, Joelle. How are you doing today?” she asked with a knowing smirk plastered to her wrinkly features.

   My eyebrows reflexively shot up; how in the world does she know my name? I, unlike her, don’t have a plaque with my name carved in it. Rose Henderson, it said, and I’m immediately reminded of the titanic for some reason.

   Just as quickly as it appeared, the shock on my face disappears and is replaced by the ultimate poker face for a situation like this; a mischievous smirk. “Well, Rose, I’m just dandy,” I take my time with the rest of my response. “I was wondering if you could tell me anything about a certain student…someone named Xander.” I asked, totally drifting off my original purpose.

   Eh, might as well get some answers.

   She stayed silent for a moment too long, but I held my ground before she shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t believe I recognize that name. I’m sorry, Joelle”

   I began to turn around, before stopping. “It’s Jo. Just Jo” I said and the sudden idea that Rose might’ve known me before spawned in my head.

   This is getting a little too confusing for my liking.

   Just as I walked back into the freshest kind of polluted air, a figure stepped into my periphery and recognition clashed all else, and I moved along.

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I’ve been walking for half an hour, aimlessly wandering the school premises. I’d like to say that it was all completely pointless and just for the heck of it, but then I’d be a liar. The point of this extended journey was to see whether or not the stranger in my periphery would follow…and follow he did.

   It’s really ironic how the person I’ve been thinking of – don’t let your mind lose its way – and technically looking for happens to be the person that just magically appears – like every other time – and surprisingly, just in time for that familiarly annoying feeling to sink in.

   Somewhere in the back of my mind, the dots were already connected, I just needed to find them.

In a moment of complete courage and stupidity, I stopped in my tracks and turned around, quick enough that I might’ve snapped my neck. We were now on a deserted part of campus, the only company other than ourselves was the palette of setting inferno colors. I hadn’t realized that it was getting a bit late, but that happens when you’re preoccupied by thinking of

   Now he was out in the open, stopping a few feet away from me with his hands stuffed into his pockets, a pair of ray bans resting on the bridge of his nose and a duffel bag strapped across his shoulders. On his lips rested the slight ghost of a smile, one that seemed all too familiar for my liking. This guy has got me doing backflips in my head and I don’t know the first thing about him.

   “Why are you following me?” I asked in a flat tone, resting my hand on my hips.

   His eyebrows chucked up as he let out a chuckle and took a set forward, “when did you get so sassy?”

   “Answer me” I said, irritated.

   He smiled, showing off a set of dimples. “Listen, Vic, you need to relax and get over your paranoia. You can trust me” he spoke in a voice that would generally be used to soothe a rabid animal. I know I’m angry but this is just an insult to my existence.

I rolled my eyes and huffed, getting more and more irritated by the second. “No, you listen to me, Xander” I bitterly spat out his name, and smiled victoriously – in the most sinister way ever – when he took a step back. “I want answers, and I want then now”.  My voice was low but firm.

He suddenly stiffened and took off his sunglasses. His eyes were something out of this world, and in the setting sun, they were like the closest thing to magic. It’s tough for me to admit things like this, but he’s really fit, too fit.

  A few moments of extremely boring and overdramatic staring later, he took off the duffel bag and dropped it on the floor. “Here you go, I hope you get your answers. I’ll find you when you lose the attitude” and with that, he turned and walked away.

   Boys. No, this specific boy is such a drama queen.

   After checking that the coast was clear, I approached the bag, slowly to make sure no monsters would pop out. Opening the bag up, I saw the unpredictable; a bunch of fake ID's and passports stacked up on top of each other, the only thing that was seemingly out of place was the little black book sitting at the top of the pile.

   I began looking through the passports and ID's and it was all me only with different names and places and ages. But it was all me. Every single one of them. The passports were from different countries I’ve never heard of, never mind been to, and the ID's were also to places I’ve never been near. Is this some kind of sick joke?

   At last, I decided to move onto the black book, hoping it would clear up the haze. The only thing that little black book was add to the mix of confusion, tipping it to the bad side. It was full of addresses, scribbled in every color on the spectrum on every inch of every paper. It obviously did belong to a single individual because the handwriting stayed the same throughout the book even though there was a change in language.

   “What the…?!”

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