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being with her. As he thought about her, his manhood throbbed painfully with passion. A fire swelled within him that had to be quenched. His hand was a poor substitute for her body, but it would have to suffice. He pumped some lotion into his hand from the bottle on the nightstand, closed his eyes, wrapped his hand around it, and stroked frantically, to completion.
    After he finished, he lay in bed and contemplated his next move. Technically, he had a chemistry class at noon, but he had no intention of going. In fact, he hadn’t attended any class in weeks. At this point he needed to drop out, but he hadn’t bothered to do so yet. Fuck the university and its rules , he’d said to Brooke when she had suggested he officially withdraw and take his final classes next semester. All of his classes bored him to tears. Listening to Mr. Long ramble on about organic and polymer synthesis simply didn’t interest him. The elementary methods employed to teach the class only annoyed Simon and he often butted heads with the professor, particularly when the instructor misspoke and Simon corrected him in front of the class. He knew far more about the subject than his instructor, who had a Ph.D.
    Simon exhaled and looked around the room. Brilliant sunlight, piercing through the Venetian blinds, cut horizontal swathes across the space, dividing the room into sections. The light forced him to squint. The sun seemed brighter than usual; in fact, he was certain that he could feel the beginnings of a headache comingon—again—and he was sure it was induced by the light. By the angle of the sun in the sky, he knew that it was not yet ten in the morning. He wanted to get up and go over to the window to close the blinds, but he wasn’t ready to stir yet; that would require far too much energy and the bed was far too comfortable.
    Instead of getting up, he buried his face in Brooke’s pillow again. After a few moments of total darkness, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the remote control. He aimed it at the television set and waited for voices to fill the empty space in the room. The incessant chatter of the local news team filled the room with sound. Simon could only tolerate silence for so long; silence gave him too much time to think, to ponder things better left alone. Sometimes, when it was really quiet and he was really still, he felt connected to the world in a way that he could never articulate. It was as if he knew the inner workings of the universe and was a part of it. Even as a child, it unnerved him and he never spoke of it. To anyone.
    He noticed a note on the nightstand and reached over and picked it up. It was from Brooke.
    Baby, you have a doctor’s appointment today. Please go. Don’t let me down. I want to know that you’re okay .
    Dr. Gregor Myles
    1118 Canal Street
    Appointment: at 3:30

    â€œFuck,” he said to himself. He looked at the note in his hand and tried to suppress his growing smile with annoyance, but he couldn’t. She knew how to take care of him. He thought about Brooke’s sneaky ways. He knew how her mind worked; she probably had made this appointment for him days ago in the hopes that she’d break him down and get him to agree to go. She loved himand was only looking out for him, but the last thing he wanted to do was spend hours waiting at some doctor’s office for some over-paid professional with a God complex who, when they finally saw him, would probably tell him to take two aspirin and get some rest. Simon knew that if he didn’t go today Brooke would nag and nag and nag him until he finally caved in; or, she’d skip class one day and take him to the doctor’s office herself and that was the last thing he wanted her to do. He didn’t want her tagging along, and he didn’t want to fight about it; he didn’t have the energy. He’d go see the doctor just to appease her.
    Besides, he had bigger things to worry