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Chapter One

“Oi! O

Oy, indeed.

When we were first planning this trip William Brown totally should have listened to me when I suggested that we fly coach instead of First Class to New York, because First Class is too elitist and money wasting. And irritating-minor-celebrity attracting. A very minor very, very irritating-celebrity who goes by the name of Dude Mann. Who would willingly go by that name? I mean, where’s the imagination behind that choice?

If only I could use my ESP power of compulsion to shut him up, but I can’t, because (a) I can’t control my powers properly yet, and (b) I promised William Brown I wouldn’t try to use them until I’ve learned to control them--he’s worried that I might harm someone (including myself).

“Did you see that episowde of The Flat where I challenged Jayda to a chocolate-eating contest, and she stuffed ten Snickers down that fat gullet of hers? Ha ha ha ha.” Dude Mann, who is sitting two rows in front of us, is talking at the poor cabin assistant in his loud Cockney accent as she serves him yet another glass of champagne. Talking at, rather than holding a conversation with, because he’s enthralled by the sound of his own voice. Unfortunately, he thinks that everybody else is, too.

“I’m kind of glad I missed that one,” William Brown whispers across to me. “You know, I’m really beginning to wish I’d taken your advice that we fly coach, instead.” He rolls his eyes in the direction of Dude.

“Oh, no,” I whisper back, because his reasons for flying First Class were really great. Even though he liked my suggestion that he could donate the difference in the fares to Sir Bob Geldof’s charity makepovertyhistory.com. “You fly so much between England and America that you’re right, you need the comfort and space that First Class offers, so that you arrive at your destination refreshed and ready to face whatever challenges may present themselves.” That sounds so formal. I’m not entirely comfortable around William Brown yet, even though I like him a lot.

“There’s no chance we’ll arrive un-travel-weary and un-crumpled if we have to listen to Dude Mann for the entire trip,” he tells me, and laughs.

How nice was it, though, of William Brown to write a check for makepovertyhistory.com, anyway, to please me? William Brown donates to a lot of other charities, too, which is another reason why I like him very much. I mean, it would have been a huge disappointment if my long-lost now recently-found dad had turned out to be a miserly philanderer, or something.

I can’t bring myself to call him dad, yet. He told me to call him Will, but that seems strange, too. I’ve thought of him as William Brown for so many years, it’s a hard habit to break.

Anyway, I just knew when I saw Dude Mann at First Class check-in earlier that he was going to ruin my first ever journey to America, because I got tiny warning prickles at the back of my neck. He was a complete nuisance on the celebrity version of the reality show The Flat, where ten complete strangers have to live together for months, without contact with the outside world. On his first day with the show he ate half the Flatmates’ food rations, and disgusted everyone with his unhygienic personal habits, which involved him inserting fingers in certain facial orifices. Euck! Would you do that on national TV?

I wish I’d warned William Brown that Dude could be a possible nuisance on the flight, but I couldn’t because William Brown had to take an urgent business call on his mobile, and had therefore walked outside the main airport doors for some privacy. It was pretty noisy in Heathrow airport, I can tell you, because July is the height of the holiday season. It was filled with people bustling here and there, not to mention the long queues.

Mum and her boyfriend, Mark Collingridge, (who had come to wave me off) didn’t even notice Dude Mann, because Mum was too busy hugging me and telling me how much she’d miss me (I will miss her, too), on account of me never having spent six weeks away from her before, and had I packed my cute T-shirt with the diamante cat on it? (Yes.)

Mark Collingridge also kept hugging me and telling me how much he’d miss me, too (which was sweet because he hasn’t known me very long), especially our discussions about movies and books. Then he told me about a documentary he’d seen recently on passenger plane disasters. Honestly, I really like Mark Collingridge but he does have a habit of recounting movies or books that somehow relate to my life--and never in a good way.

Like the time a few weeks ago when he insisted on discussing a book I was supposed to read for English, Flowers for Algernon, in which the main character takes part in a brain-enhancing experiment and becomes super smart for a little while then, tragically, begins to deteriorate. It was just after I discovered William Brown on the Internet, and my ESP powers had kicked in big time (according to William Brown a severe emotional shock like finding your long-lost father can cause a person’s powers to develop suddenly). I hadn’t plucked up the courage to confess my true identity to William Brown, and I was worried that my ESP powers were really a brain tumor because of the side effects (terrible pounding headaches and nausea, and sometimes I have to be sick).

While Mum and Mark Collingridge were talking to me and hugging me, Dude Mann was insisting to the airline assistant that excess baggage rules shouldn’t apply to him--he was a celebrity after all and needed his full wardrobe available for his American TV debut. (That was a shock. Why was he even going to be on American TV?)

It was right about then that the warning prickles at the back of my neck got a bit stronger. I get these prickles when something is going to happen. Like the time Mr. Fenton, my math teacher, went on the school skiing trip and I got a bad feeling he would a break a leg, and he did. Like the time when I found William Brown’s website and I got a prickly feeling that he was my dad. Both of those time I got a precognitive moment coupled with the tingles, so I knew which one was bad (poor Mr. Fenton) and which one could be potentially good (finding my dad). Dude isn’t good news, so I assumed that the prickles were bad on this occasion. Was this my budding precognition warning me that our plane was going to crash? Or did the prickles mean that I was about to accidentally use my power of compulsion to stop Dude Mann from being such a pain and wish him to the moon, or something? That would not be a good thing. I was trying really hard to calm myself down, and not borrow trouble.

That was difficult, because although I was really excited about the trip, I was feeling pretty emotional about plenty of other things, too. Things like, did Mum and William Brown still have feelings for each other, and had I done the right thing by contacting him? I mean, what if I accidentally caused two love triangles? Poor Mark Collingridge and poor Jessica Waterstone, William Brown’s fiancée. Two lives potentially ruined!

Another thing I was worried about was would my new American family members like me? William Brown’s been a bit evasive about them. He told me they could be a bit quirky and take some time to get used to, but he assured me that they’d love me once they got to know me. One thing Mum told me ages ago before I found William Brown that she remembered from their brief time together was that he’d had problems with his parents. Pretty much like Mum had problems with her mother, Grandmother Elizabeth (who can be very annoying and bossily baronessy, and Mum had even completely stopped talking to her until three years ago).

I was also missing Joe already and wondering (worrying) how I would survive without seeing him for six whole weeks. Would he forget me? I mean, we’ve only been a proper couple for a few weeks. And they do say that out of sight is out of mind. On the other hand they also say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. “They” should really get their stories straight. But as Joe said last night when we were saying goodbye, even though I will be in a time zone five hours behind England, there’s always the Internet. He promised to e-mail and instant message as often as he can. I so wanted to tell him about ESP boot camp, and how for part of my American trip I wouldn’t be around much during the day, which would mean that it would be late at night for him by the time I could e-mail or instant message back. I nearly blurted out the whole ESP thing. I improvised and told him I was attending science camp, which is not a lie but is not the whole truth--it is scientific. Joe totally approved of that. Then Joe kissed me and I forgot about everything except how lovely he is (and how weak at the knees his kisses make me feel).

I won’t get to kiss him again for six whole weeks!

But here’s the thing. How do you talk to a boy now that he is your boyfriend and not just your friend? I know that he really likes me, and we have a great time discussing stuff like the discovery of seven hundred new species of marine creatures in the hostile waters around Antarctica, and how it’s amazing they can live in what was thought to be a barren abyss, but it’s hard to tell (except for the kissing part) exactly how he feels. I mean, shouldn’t we be saying mushy stuff to each other by now?

With all of that on my mind Dude Mann was the last thing I needed to tip me over the ESP edge. Then the assistant patiently explained to Dude that normally it wouldn’t be a problem for a first-class traveler, but twice the allowed weight was a bit over the top.

Twice the allowed weight would be more than one hundred and sixty pounds of baggage! Who owns that many clothes?

I could feel myself getting really angry with him and upset for the assistant. First, he tried bribing her. Then he whined a lot about the unfairness of it all, and how she wasn’t showing enough respect for him, and I wondered if he’d ever get checked in. The anger and prickles at the back of my neck intensified, and I could feel the now-familiar pressure building in my brain. This was bad. I really needed to calm down before I did something stupid.

Then, just as Mum was telling me not to worry about Daphne Kat, and promising not to feed her anything unhealthy-to-cats like General Tso’s Chicken, and Mark Collingridge was advising me about what I should do in the event of a flight emergency, Dude Mann burst into fake tears and began to plead with the airline assistant.

I was nearly wishing that Dude really would fly to the moon and at the same time trying frantically to stop the power from building in my brain.

Then he threw himself on the floor in (fake) misery, and told the assistant he wasn’t going anywhere until she’d checked in all of his baggage, and how he was going to complain to her manager, the airport authorities, and the airline CEO himself. Then he added that Richard Branson was a personal friend.

Just as I thought I was going to burst with the effort of trying NOT to let the pressure build up even more in my brain, Mum stopped hugging me for long enough to take an envelope and a small packet wrapped in gold paper out of her bag and said, “Last night, Joe asked me to give this to you before you checked in.”

The prickles dissipated instantly and I forgot all about Dude Mann, because I was totally suffused with my love for Joe! I wondered why he hadn’t given it to me himself when he saw me last night. I assumed he wanted to avoid any mushy scenes.

I wanted to save the note and gift to open when I was alone, but Mum was all, “Go on, open it Fiona or I’ll die from the suspense. The look on his face when he gave them to me was priceless.” And Mark Collingridge was all, “Ah, young love.” He smiled at Mum in such a soft, gentle way and touched the side of her face. Mum practically melted into a puddle right there in the airport! This kind of alleviated my fears about the two love triangles. And if Mark Collingridge and Mum could show emotion in a busy international airport, so could I.

I opened the note first. My heart nearly burst out of my chest when I read it. It said, “MarieCurieGirl, this is a small token to mark our first date. It also represents how long your trip will seem to me, how much I’ll miss you, and how I will feel while you are gone. OccamsRazor.”

MarieCurieGirl and OccamsRazor are our e-mail names, and also our pet names for one another. I’m MarieCurieGirl because I really admire Marie Curie (who won two Nobel prizes, each in a different field of science). Joe’s OccamsRazor suits him, too, because just like Occam’s Razor in science, Joe has the habit of razoring off the bits you don’t need in a given situation so that you have the simplest, most elegant explanation of the facts.

When I opened the packet I nearly cried. Inside was a necklace with a silver trilobite charm, so delicately crafted, complete with tiny legs and antennae. I understood Joe’s cryptic note instantly. You see, our first date (although we didn’t call it a date at the time) was to the Natural History Museum. But that’s not what made me nearly cry with emotion. Trilobites became extinct two hundred and fifty million years ago and what Joe was telling me was that my trip would seem that long to him. He was also telling me that he would feel extinct, as in no longer alive, snuffed out like a candle, without me!

How romantic was that?

Mum and Mark Collingridge didn’t ask to read the note, which was a relief, because some stuff is just private. Instead, Mark Collingridge insisted on fastening the trilobite chain around my neck right there and then, and as I lifted my hair out of the way, the prickles came back. . .

Dude Mann, who was still throwing a tantrum at check-in, did a sudden about face. He stopped mid-rant, got up from the floor, took his three huge cases from the weighing machine, put them back on the airport trolley, and wheeled them toward the airline helpdesk so that he could pay his excess baggage charge.

I could tell that the other passengers at First Class check-in were surprised, because they were all watching him with expressions of amazement. Obviously, the check-in assistant couldn’t believe it either, because she was sitting there with her mouth wide open.

It was then that I caught sight of William Brown in the corner of my eye. He was standing by the newspaper shop. He was also totally focused on Dude Mann, and a thought occurred to me.

Did William Brown use his powers of ESP on Dude Mann to make that happen? After everything he told me about not using ESP, except in exceptional circumstances?

Then, William Brown saw me watching him.

He winked at me and smiled!

I couldn’t ask him about it, because we’re not supposed to talk about ESP in public places in case we’re overheard. I mean, I’m not even allowed to tell Mum about it.

After we’d said goodbye to Mum (who looked like she was going to cry, but didn’t--she squeezed me fiercely instead and told me that I’d better get on the phone regularly or she’d be over the Atlantic in a New York Minute to check on me and/or rescue me if needed) and gone through security, William Brown was all nonchalant and casual, saying things like, “Do you want a book or some magazines for the journey?” And, “I can’t wait to show you America, you’re going to love New York.” Although he didn’t say, “I just know you’re going to love your new grandma, grandpa, aunt, and cousin,” which was a bit unsettling.

Dude Mann also acted like nothing happened. He just went back to his usual (irritating) self.

“Uh-oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” William Brown tells me as Dude moves to the First Class bar area to entertain us all with more of his antics. When I say “entertain” I don’t mean it in a good kind of way.

“Then she went this green spewey color, so green she was the color of vomited cabbage,” Dude says to the posh woman in the sharp suit, who’s just gone over and introduced herself to him. What was she thinking? Does she like trouble?

I didn’t watch that particular episode (I can’t bring myself to watch as much since Dude joined the show), but my stomach rolls as I picture this in my mind. I wonder if the sushi I had for lunch will be making a bid for freedom from my stomach some time soon. I think I may be the color of vomited cabbage, too.

“Hey, are you feeling okay, Fiona?” William Brown asks me in his warm, baritone American voice. “Do you need me to get you something? Some mineral water to settle your stomach?”

“How about a parachute?” I joke, and try to muster up a smile.

William Brown laughs. “I think my ears may explode if I have to listen to too much more of this. Do you think America’s ready for him?”

“I don’t think England was ready for him, never mind America.”

Then William Brown smiles encouragingly at me, and I think how ungrateful I am to be thinking horrible thoughts about minor celebrities, and how lucky I am to have found my father in the first place. Against needle-in-a-haystack odds!

It’s a good job that I have my own portfolio and check the Internet daily for companies to invest in, because otherwise I’d never have stumbled on William Brown’s company, Funktech, and therefore never would have stumbled across My True Father!

“The best part was when she puked all over the living-room floor. Ha ha ha ha--did you see anyfing so funny and hilarious in your en-ti-yer life? Ha ha ha ha,” Dude Mann laughs into Suit Lady’s face, and a bit of spit flies out of his mouth. Suit Lady doesn’t even seem to notice!

“Yuck. Is it me? How gross is that?” I ask William Brown.

“No, it’s not you. Very gross. Tell me, because I missed this part. Is his name really Dude Mann?” William Brown grins at me, and his brown eyes crinkle kindly.

“Oh, yes--didn’t you catch the millionth time he told us that he’d changed his name by deed poll to make it official?”

William Brown reaches across and squeezes my hand, and I get a little prickle at the back of my neck. It happens every time William Brown touches me; it’s all to do with both of us having ESP, apparently.

“I think your idea of a parachute might be a good one.” William Brown reaches into the bag of freebie goodies we got due to our first class status. “But we’re still two thousand miles from land and I don’t know about you, but I’m not up to swimming that far in freezing water. How about an alternate plan?” He holds out a pair of earplugs. “With some luck the champagne will soon knock him out, what do you think?”

I think that sounds good. I also think this might be a good way of discreetly enquiring about what happened earlier.

“Definitely.” I look into William Brown’s eyes so I don’t miss any slight reaction. “Um, failing the champagne and earplugs, there are, you know--” I pause meaningfully, “--other ways, too.” Then I wrinkle my nose a bit, so that he’ll understand my meaning (like Samantha in Bewitched when she performs magic. Except ESP’s not as easy as wrinkling one’s nose. If only!).

But William Brown just grins in an inscrutable Sphinx-like way. And winks at me again!

So did he or didn’t he?

What else is a girl to do when she’s confused, except discuss it with her best friend?

I might currently be cruising several thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean, but one of the benefits of First Class is that I have Internet access. And I can see that Gina’s online.

I’m not supposed to discuss ESP at all in any kind of communications medium, even with other people who have ESP, because William Brown says that government agencies listen in on phone calls and spy on instant messages and e-mail, and what do you think they would do with people with ESP if they could get their hands on them? I totally agree, because I worry, specifically, what would they do with me?

I could be whisked off to a life of imprisonment and scientific experiment, and be forced to do things that I don’t want to do, and my life would be OVER.

Or a crime gang might kidnap me and threaten to hurt someone I love if I don’t perform nefarious deeds for them, like robbing a bank, or stealing government secrets to aid their cause, or something even worse and my life would truly be OVER.

William Brown’s Funktech computer network and phone system are secure, though, because otherwise how would he ever be able to communicate with other espees (people with ESP powers)? Of course, some of them can read minds, so don’t actually need a physical communications system. How cool would it be to be able to communicate telepathically? That would actually be useful and useable.

Anyway, even though I didn’t really tell Gina I have ESP, she’s so empathic and in tune with me that she guessed. So, because of this vital communications embargo, Gina and I have come up with a cunning system of thwarting any authorities who might be spying on us. It’s a game we call Corrupt a Wish. If I have any ESP moments, I tell Gina I made a wish and Gina will understand that it was one of my ESP moments.

MarieCurieGirl to Feminista: Hi, Gina.

Feminista to MarieCurieGirl: Tht was super quick! U’ve only been gone a few hours! R U in NJ already?

MarieCurieGirl to Feminista: No--the plane has Internet access.

Feminista to MarieCurieGirl: Wow! Buzzin! What’s it like 2 B in 1st class? U lucky thing!
Lots of room to self? Own entertainment system??

Gina is very fond of teen slang. Mainly because the love of her life, Kieran, is also a slang guru. Minty and buzzing are just her ways of saying “cool.”

MarieCurieGirl to Feminista: It’s lovely. Like a posh hotel. The only non minty thing is that Dude Mann’s on the flight. Remember him?

Feminista to MarieCurieGirl: U R KIDDING ME! THE Dude Mann? Can U get his autograph 4 me?

MarieCurieGirl to Feminista: But you can’t stand him! You said he should be evicted after that episode of The Flat where Keith won laundry rights, and Dude was so angry it wasn’t him he threw Keith’s laundry out the window.

Feminista to MarieCurieGirl: I know, but he’s compulsive viewing & how often do U get 2 C a famous person in real life, even if they R howlin?

MarieCurieGirl to Feminista: Oh no! Now he’s SEAT DANCING all over a guy in the bar area.

Feminista to MarieCurieGirl: ?? Like in the episode when he won the right to have his MP3 player for the day, & when everyone had gone to bed, he went around The Flat and woke up all the Flatmates by jumping on their beds and seat dancing all over them? Has he driven U to making any wishes, yet?

MarieCurieGirl to Feminista: Yes, I nearly wished he’d stop making a fuss at check-in earlier and go pay for his excess baggage like other people.

Feminista to MarieCurieGirl: Granted! U now have a terrible headache and need to take 2 Tylenol. Next wish?

MarieCurieGirl to Feminista: William Brown has a headache and I wish for 2 Tylenol for him, instead.

Feminista to MarieCurieGirl: WHAT? WB needs the Tylenol? Not U? Do U mean what I think U mean?

MarieCurieGirl to Feminista: Not sure. It’s hard to tell because WB is Sphinx Reincarnate. Am keeping an open mind.

OccamsRazor to MarieCurieGirl: Hey, I can see you online. You there, MCG? Is it Really You?

Oh, it’s Joe! My heart beats a bit quicker as I finger my silver trilobite. I love the way he remembers all our conversations. Once, before we were, you know, a couple, he came to talk to me by the lockers in school, and I was a total dork because I was so surprised, and said, “Oh, it’s you.” Since then he’s kind of teased me about it and says things like it’s Still Me (meaning him), or it’s Really You (meaning me). Then I remember his lovely message and my trilobite necklace, and feel a bit embarrassed. What do I say to him? This boyfriend/girlfriend stuff is so confusing.

MarieCurieGirl to OccamsRazor: Hi, OR! J. Yes, it’s Really Me! Thank you for my trilobite necklace, it’s lovely. Much better than any old masiakansaurus knopfleri necklace.

OccamsRazor: J. You’re welcome. It was a tough choice, but then I thought the masiakansaurus alternative was too obvious. And only seventy million years ago....

This is one of the reasons why I know Joe and I are soul mates, even though Joe’s not good at vocalizing his feelings. Who else would know about this dinosaur in the first place and understand my hidden meaning? See, it was named after Mark Knopfler from Dire Straits, and Joe would instantly get my connection to the music industry via Mum.

Feminista to MarieCurieGirl: BRB. Kieran’s online. . .love calls!

MarieCurieGirl to Feminista: OK. Love’s calling my end, too. Joe’s online! BTW, he bought me an “I will miss you” silver necklace! How romantic is that?

MarieCurieGirl to OccamsRazor: LOL, so what are you up to?

Now, why couldn’t I say something, you know, romantic to Joe? I am such an idiot! Although not as much of an idiot as Dude Mann. He is now dancing around the bar area with Suit Lady, and I get a prickle at the back of my neck.

I glance sideways at William Brown, but he’s not there. He must have gone to the bathroom. What if Dude Mann and Suit Lady get even crazier and someone gets hurt? I try to ignore them and concentrate on my instant messages instead. It’s hard, because although I can’t hear Dude Mann and Suit Lady on account of the earplugs, it’s very unnerving to see them on the edge of my vision. Aren’t the cabin crew supposed to intervene when passengers behave badly? Maybe not in First Class.

Feminista to MarieCurieGirl: OMG! Kieran says where have U been 4 the last 2 weeks? Dude Mann is all over YouTube, FaceBook & MySpace like a rash! He’s ttlly buzzing--especially in America. He’s the new teen phenomenon! He speaks to the disenfranchised, material youth.

MarieCurieGirl to Feminista: WHAT? You have got to be kidding me. How can he speak to the youth of America? He can barely speak at all! He’s currently an accident waiting to happen!

OccamsRazor to MarieCurieGirl: BTW, thinking of odd, ancient creatures, did you see the BBC article about the Amazon Molly fish? Somehow it made me think of you. Here’s the URL: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/scotland/edinburgh_and_east/7360770.stm

I check out Joe’s fish article and grin. Amazon Molly fish, apparently, are all girls and have been all girls for the last seventy thousand years. An evolutionary oddity. But does Joe mean that I am an oddity, or that he’s already feeling like he hasn’t kissed me for seventy thousand years. Or that I’m just interested in biology?

Feminista to MarieCurieGirl: Kieran says Dude’s signed a million $ deal 4 his life story & his upcoming part in the USA version of The Flat. Can U believe that?

Feminista to MarieCurieGirl: Peaceflower says hi, BTW, she’s sitting right beside me. We (Peaceflower, Joe, Brian and me) are off to Hyde Park to hang. It’s weird without U already. U don’t mind us doing stuff together, do U? Although U’re not missing much with Joe and Brian. Usual complicated sciencey chat stuff. Something about fish that don’t make out.

I know it’s completely irrational (usually I am definitely not the irrational type of person) but I feel a bit left out at the thought of them all going out together.

I know I’ve got my own exciting plans ahead of me, but I get a pang of longing to be with them. How can I feel homesick? I’ve only been gone for a few hours.

All of this is running through my mind as Dude Mann and Suit Lady lurch in my direction. The tingle at the back of my neck builds into a prickle, and I think, Oh, no, here we go again.

Feminista to MarieCurieGirl: <3 J on the romantic necklace!

MarieCurieGirl to OccamsRazor: Have fun in the park. LOL on the fish, if I were them I’d really miss kissing you-know-who, even though I know fish don’t really kiss. And I love my lovely romantic necklace so much that I may never take it off, sigh. In fact, I may never wash my neck!

Oh. My. God.

I should never instant message with two people at the same time, especially when I’m upset. I’ve sent Gina’s message to Joe. What will he think? That I’m too needy, or that I’m moving too quickly?

The prickles at the back of my neck get even stronger, and I glance over at Dude Mann and Suit Lady as they crash into the seat of another passenger. Finally, one of the cabin crew asks them to stop, but they’re pretty well ignoring her. How’s a girl supposed to concentrate with all of this going on? I wish they would just STOP. No, I don’t wish anything. Really, I don’t wish anything! I tell myself.

As I am worrying that Joe will think I’m too intense, because he’s gone suspiciously quiet online, and as I’m also trying to stop the buildup of power in my brain, because Dude and Suit are way out of order, two things happen.

The first thing: All of a sudden Dude and Suit Lady stop lurching around and return to their seats like two meek little lambs. Did they finally decide to pay attention to the cabin crew? Or is there another reason for their meekness?

I turn my head and see William Brown standing by the entrance to First Class. He is watching Dude and Suit Lady in a very intent way. When he notices me watching him watch Dude and Suit Lady his expression switches back to Sphinx-like inscrutability.

As he takes his seat beside me, he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, and says something to me. I take out the earplugs. “Are you okay, honey?” he repeats.

Instead of demanding an explanation for what just happened, I simply say, “It looks like we won’t need these earplugs or the parachutes, anymore.”

The second thing: my computer beeps and I have an instant message from Joe.

Oh. My. God.

I blush and glance sideways at William Brown to see if he’s noticed my beetroot red face. He’s reading some papers, so I sigh mentally with relief and refocus on Joe’s message.

OccamsRazor to MarieCurieGirl: Agree completely on the fish--same feeling for me about you re: no kissing. J Gotta go. Have a good trip.
Love You-know-who. XX.

Does that mean that he, you know, loves me loves me, or is he just using the generic “love” friends use all of the time? I think the latter, but long for the former, even though it’s probably too early in our relationship to say “love.” But a girl can daydream, can’t she?

PROGRESS ON TRIP SO FAR

1. My new dad secretly compels people to stop when they are being a public nuisance. Surely a good use of ESP. It makes me very determined to master my ESP skills so that I, too, can be of future use to the general public.

2. My boyfriend is attempting to overcome his sciencey nature and returned mushy sentiment. Even though my message wasn’t actually for him. Must practice at being more spontaneous and romantic.

Yay for progress.

Despite Dude, this is a great trip so far.

END OF EXCERPT. LIKE IT? ORDER IT.

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