"Good," Bernie said. He walked over to his door and locked it. Then he went to the windows and closed all the blinds tightly. Ashley's eyes followed his every move. He handed each of us a graph.
"The numbers at the side correspond to the activities," he explained. "It will be easier if we just refer to them by their numbers. On the top as you see are the dates, beginning with today. As long as we keep this scientific, we'll do fine," he added.
He went to a cabinet under his wall of shelves and opened it.
"What's that?" Ashley asked before he had a chance to explain
"It's a digital blood-pressure cup, and it also records pulse."
"Where did you get that?" she asked, as if it were some forbidden fruit.
"You can get these anywhere, Ashley. They sell them in drugstores. It's no big deal," Bernie said. "Now, when you're aroused," he continued in his scientist's voice, "your blood pressure should rise and your pulse, of course, will quicken. Let's take our blood pressures and pulses right now before we do anything else, so we'll know what to consider normal and what not, okay? Who's first?"
"I'll start," I said, and Bernie fit the cup around my arm. When I was done, he measured Ashley.
"You must be a little nervous," he said. "I wouldn't expect your pressure to be this high."
He did his own, which was as low as mine.
"How come you two are so calm?" Ashley asked suspiciously. "Aren't you nervous, Crystal?"
"No." It was true. Now that we were ready to begin, I was more anxious than nervous to find out what it felt like to be kissed.
She looked skeptical. "Now what?" she asked. Bernie sat across from us, crossed his legs, and gazed at his notes.
"Now, we should kiss. Ashley, you want to go first?" he asked.
Ashley popped up from her chair like a jack-inthe- box. She fumbled with the door lock and ran out before Bernie could ask her what she was doing. Moments later, we heard the front door slam.
Bernie and I looked at each other.
"I don't think she was quite ready for this," he said with a smile.
"I think you did all that just to get rid of her," I said, finally beginning to understand why he had been so clinical.
His eyes met mine as he tried to hide the truth.
"I knew she wouldn't be ready. Why waste time with her?"
"Why did you want to do this?" I asked. "Remember," I quickly followed, "honesty is essential in science."
He started to smile and stopped to put on his serious face again. "I've had different feelings about you, different from what I've felt about other girls, and I wanted to understand why," he explained.
"So this is still an experiment?"
"Yes," he said "What else could it be?"
I wanted to say it could be love; it could be romance. I wanted to say that maybe we shouldn't dissect our feelings, that maybe that would destroy them, but I didn't say anything. I didn't want to drive him away, and there was an excitement that started as a small trembling in my legs and moved up my spine until my heartbeat quickened.
"Should we get on with this?" Bernie asked. His eyes were full of anticipation and hope.
Once, at the orphanage, I had caught a girl named Marsha Benjamin in a very passionate embrace with a boy much older than she. His name was Glen Fraser, and I remember being afraid of him, afraid of the way he looked at me. I was too young to understand why at the time, but when I saw him and Marsha kissing, his hand under her skirt, his body moving roughly against hers, forcing her to turn so that he could move between her legs, I gasped first in fear and then in astonishment. I started to run away but stopped, unable to shut my curious eyes. The truth was, I was fascinated with Marsha's face, with the way she let her head fall back, with her small moans, and especially with her hands, first trying to stop it all from happening and then, suddenly, apparently filled with uncontrollable excitement, pulling her hand away from his to hold him behind his neck as if she were clinging to him for dear life.
He turned and saw me standing there, watching them. He didn't get angry. He smiled coolly and said, "There's room for one more."
I ran. I ran so hard and fast someone would have thought I was being pursued by a monster. Years later, I would think the monster was inside me. I wanted to conquer it, to be unafraid, and I thought that would never happen until I was fulfilled and loved by someone I could feel good about. Now I wondered if Bernie could be that person.
"Yes," I replied finally, "let's go on with it."