Page 7 of Under Pressure

But staring at the mass of curls still visible in the distance, a pang goes through me knowing I’ve lost it.

I mentally slap the wistfulness out of me. Jesus Christ, get it together. If I didn’t know I had it in the first place, why should it matter if her crush is gone?

* * *

I stop by my mom’s house on the way home to grab some leftovers she promised me. I skipped Sunday night dinner this week, claiming I needed to get ready for the start of the semester and prepare for Dr. Price’s interview, but she could probably see through the excuse.

She knows I hate being here longer than necessary. If it wasn’t for her and my little sister, Riley, I’d never visit again.

I’m a bastard. Plain and simple. Literally and figuratively.

Mom and Dan had a happy marriage initially, producing two boys, Brandon and Dylan, my older brothers. But eventually, I guess Mom got unhappy and she had an affair—resulting in me.

It was a one-night stand, some guy she never even got the name of. She said she regretted it immediately, and when she found out she was pregnant, kept the real circumstances of my conception a secret.

But the truth couldn’t be denied when I looked nothing like either of my fair-haired, Nordic-gened parents. Dark hair and tan skin don’t exactly match the family Christmas photo. On my first birthday, apparently Dan finally questioned Mom about it, who confessed everything. He couldn’t forgive her and they divorced.

For the next six years, whenever he came to pick up Brandon and Dylan for their weekly visits, I would get a cold stare. Ayou are the reason why our family is brokenlook I’ve never been able to shake. When a kid grows up with that kind of look weekly, how is he not supposed to internalize it?

By the age of seven, Mom and Dan cautiously decided to try things again, to see if they could make the family whole. But I wasn’t a part of that family. I knew how he really felt. If it were up to him, I would be sent off to whoever my biological father was. Out of sight, out of mind.

Six years later, they welcomed a surprise baby girl, Riley. I admit, Dan is a good father to her. But it just makes it all the more obvious he wasn’t that way with me.

“Tyler!” Riley calls out when I walk in the door. She rushes to me and I pick her up and swing her around, even though at eight years old she’s getting a little too big for it. “Are you staying for dinner?” she asks hopefully, her wide, blue eyes angelic surrounded by all that fair hair.

“No, squirt. I’ve got work later.” It’s not quite a lie. I do plan to go home and continue working on the study, even if I’m not going to my actual job at the computer lab on campus.

“Hey,” Mom says, stepping out of the kitchen, drying her hands with a dish towel. “There’s food for you in the fridge.”

I give her a quick hug on my way past her and grab the Tupperware, opening it up to see what’s inside. Pot roast and mashed potatoes. My mouth salivates just looking at it.

“We’re having tacos tonight,” she says enticingly, smiling at me from the kitchen entryway.

“Yeah, tacos,” Riley repeats, coming over and latching herself on to my leg.

My resolve softens until the sound of the front door opening and shutting greets us. “Was that Tyler’s car parked—” Dan stops talking when he comes upon the three of us in the kitchen. “Hey, Tyler,” he says easily, setting down his messenger bag on the counter. He always puts on a good front when others are around.

I make a noncommittal noise and gently untangle Riley’s arms from me, then move past everyone to the foyer.

“See you later,” I call out, not in the mood to get into it with everyone right now. I leave and duck my head down against the wind until I reach my Camry, still warm from driving over.

I head home to the house I share with three other guys and heat up the leftovers, refusing to wait for it to cool down, and end up burning my tongue. Ethan, the only roommate I talk to, isn’t here, so I go in my room and shut the door, stretching out on my bed. The guy I rent from who owns the place, Tom, is home, but we have nothing in common. A decade older than me, he just works part-time, collects rent, and plays video games most of the day. His friend Sean lives here too, but he at least has a career and acts his age.

I open my laptop as I eat and pull out my notebook with its list of things to work on for the study. We actually got a lot crossed off our list, but the sooner we can get it done, the sooner we can get official approval for the study.

At least Mia seemed serious about this. There would have been nothing worse than being partnered with someone who was only half-assing it.

If we can just stay out of each other’s way in the lab, this whole thing will go fine.

But that’s a big if.

Chapter Three

Mia

I glanceover my checklist of things to do for the psychology experiment, running my finger down the page until I can cross off the last major thing.Become a certified biofeedback technician.

I make a line with my pen through the words, satisfaction coursing through me.

---