“I actually worked here during the summers to save up for university,” he says, offering me more of him. I turn to see him munching on his newly exchanged plain fries like he ordered them. “I know the secret to animal style.”
“They don’t erase your memory when you leave,Men in Blackstyle?” I say, trying to distract myself with banter insteadof acknowledging that as Xander continues to offer up information about his life, I continue to find myself gravitating toward him.
“I had to sign an NDA,” he says, giving me side eye. “That’s more ironclad than a neuralyzer.”
I do a double take at him.Really?
He cocks his head.What do you think?
I flick my wrist as I backhand his arm.Smartass.
Still, I can imagine teenager Xander. With his curls popping out of the comically tall white chef’s hat they make everyone at In-N-Out wear. Getting comments from the elderly about how polite he is. Every teen girl who came in secretly hoping he was on the register that day. So adorable.
So unnecessary to be thinking that.
“I wanted to be a chemistry teacher because it’s the study of literally everything around us,” I say, clearing my throat. Maybe if I starttalkingabout myself, I can stopthinkingabout Xander.
Xander and his curls. Xander and his fingers. Xander and his lips.
Xander and his heart.
“Everything?” he says, chewing on the word. “Including the chemistry between two people?”
“Yep,” I say, continuing to nod, nonchalant. “That too.”
I take another French fry dripping in sauce and eat it, making sure this time I lick my entire lip. I don’t dare look at him while I do this, but I feel his eyes burning into the side of my face.
“Can you explain it to me, Miss Ashleigh?” he says, and I immediately feel itchy everywhere. Because even though I’ve learned that Xander is a surfer boy, he’s also the smartest person I’ve met.
I clear my throat. “Certain chemicals in your brain create feelings of desire, pleasure, and connection,” I say, the same spiel I do in class except this time, my student doesn’t fall into a giggling heap at the wordpleasure, so I continue. “We have dopamine, serotonin, and norepinephrine, which help determine if you are initially attracted to someone.” I look at him.
“So you were my shot of dopamine that night?” he asks.
I suck on my lip and offer a tight nod. “Yep.”
“And me? Was I a shot of dopamine for you?”
I continue nodding. “Yep.”
We hold eye contact and the way his eyes darken, I know exactly what he’s going to ask next. I brace for impact. The L word.
“What about love? Is that a chemical reaction?”
“When we find a connection, there’s an increase in oxytocin. This rewires our brain so that now we have an emotional attachment to that person,” I say, taking a sip of soda. The only problem is, it’s finished, so all we hear is my poor attempt at sucking the last few drops through ice.
Xander automatically hands his soda to me. I take it. But I decide that if he wants to talk about how oxytocin creates love, he can also learn about what erodes love too.
“And just as chemicals can rewire your brain when you’re in love, stressors can break down those bonds and reshape your brain, too.”
“Stress like infidelity?”
“Turns out, cheating’s a real buzzkiller,” I say, deadpan.
“Avoid the connection, dodge the oxytocin, and never get hurt,” he says, perfectly summing up my rules. “One commando crawl at a time.”
I look at him with an eye roll.Touché.
He throws me a self-deprecating smile that reverberates in every cell of my body. Including my heart.
