Page 34 of Space Junk: Houston, We Have a Hottie
Jackie:Calm down, both of you!
Jackie:I have big feet, okay? They won’t fit.
Trish:Oh.
Rose:If you were a boy, big feet would mean a big ding dong.
* * *
My thumbs hurt.From texting.
I can’t decide whether to be disgusted with myself or proud. Stretching my arms overhead, I push myself deeper into the couch, while also flexing my sore thumbs. Doors slam, people pound up and down the stairs… the white noise of my apartment complex washes over me, allowing the stress of my day to drift away.
“Beep. Beep.”
I close one eye and squint at my phone, which is lying face down on the coffee table. I can feel my heartrate accelerate.
Studies have shown that every time a person receives a call or a text, their brain releases a shot of dopamine into their system. Dopamine is created naturally in various parts of the brain and is critical to thinking, moving, sleeping, mood, etc. Dopamine also causes you to want, desire, seek out and search. It increases your level of arousal and is most powerfully stimulated when given small amounts of information that doesn’t fully satisfy the system, i.e., a text message. Text messages are akin to drinking alcohol, doing drugs and having sex.
So it isn’t my fault that in six days I have gone from frustration to excitement at the sound of Flynn’s ringtone. And that even though I know I shouldn’t, I reach out and pick it up off my coffee table, eyes glued to the screen.
It’s science.
Flynn:I love when you talk smart to me.
I’m losing whatever game he’s playing. Because a big part of mereallywants to believe him. Another part of me knows from experience that he’s so far out of my league it’s astronomically unreal.
“Beep. Beep.”
Flynn:It gets me hard.
Annnnnd…brain shutdown.
I can do nerdy. I can lecture on astronomy and combat the musings of weird conspiracy theorists. But what am I supposed to do withthat?
I switch the volume off my phone and shove it between the cushions of my couch.
Nine
Jump Start
Jackie
Whisper-light touches lick my body.
“Please,” I beg.
“Please, what?” His voice is soft, but rough. Chills race down my neck.
“Please.” I raise my arms, wanting to touch him. But he isn’t there.
“Tell me what you want.” His voice is harder now, demanding.
“Flynn...”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I sit up so fast I nearly roll off the couch. What’s that noise? My heart? It could be. I mean, I can feel it pulsing against my rib cage, audible even with all the heavy breathing I’m doing. That dream. Heck,allof the dreams. My Flynn fantasies have put my vibrator out of commission.
