I watched him as he finished the whole thing in just one bite. And when he opened his eyes, he demanded, “More!”

I snickered. I made him more.

Then I made him Skittles Pop Rocks, drizzling Skittles with Orange Crush and then coating them lightly with some citric acid and baking soda. Yes, I happened to have those in my backpack too. Don't ask! I carry a lot of weird stuff in my backpack in the name of science.

This time, Wes looked even more apprehensive.

“You’re not trying to poison me, are you?” he asked, only half joking. “If this makes me sick, Torrence, I swear to God, my revenge will know no bounds.”

Naturally, no food poisoning occurred after he ingested my enhanced Skittles. He rather enjoyed them, I might say. To finish it off, I made him eat Twizzlers with Orange Crush, just because they complement each other, the tartness of cherry-flavored Twizzlers and the citrusy flavor of Orange Crush. Wes thought so too. But it was really the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup s'mores that took the cake, figuratively speaking. He ate a bunch of them before he stopped asking for more.

“These are so good!” he gushed. “How come I’ve never heard of them before? Tor, you’re the culinary genius. Thank you for making me try them.”

The s'mores really got him talking. He even called me . . . ‘Tor’.

I didn't know what to say. Luckily, he didn't seem to expect an answer. He settled leisurely on the blanket, rubbing his belly and licking crumbs off his lips. Ooh, those pink lips. I watched him. What else was I supposed to do? He seemed so relaxed, now that his stomach was full. So at ease. So comfortable.

“You should know, I’m a foodie, Torrence,” he declared. “You feed me well and I’m yours.”

I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that—it was the s'mores talking. But there was no taking it back. It was out there now.

He pulled up short, realizing what he just said. His chill demeanor gone. He opened and closed his mouth several times, no doubt wanting to explain himself. But no words came out.

I don’t know what came over me, but, without a modicum of hesitation, I blurted out, “Mine, huh?”

His eyes went wide—he stared at me. But I went even further with this, adding, “I might just take you up on that offer.”

That did it. He leapt to his feet. For a second, he fidgeted in one place, not sure if he was supposed to run away or do something. Do what, though? Punch me in the face? Kiss me? But he couldn't be still, his heart no doubt pounding restlessly in his chest. Mine was too. But I rose to my feet with ever-growing confidence, reassured now that it was the right thing to do, took my place opposite him, lifted my hand to his lips and, with my trembling fingers, touched them . . .

He looked downright catatonic, staring at me, seemingly afraid to move. He shivered all over. I did too. But if I was gonna go for it, now was my only chance.

I traced the contour of his lips tentatively with just the tip of my index finger. His mouth came ajar as he exhaled audibly. More of a moan. His jaw was shaking. But he wasn't stopping me, wasn't grabbing and pulling away my hand. He wasn't trying to punch me either. He was letting me touch him, which made me believe it was okay. I held his bottom lip between my fingers, making him gasp. It was so soft, and warm, and infinitely pink, made me want to kiss him . . .

I couldn't stop myself if I wanted to, probably. His lips, his eyes, his face, the heat of his body, his scent all became the center of my world momentarily. It was just him and nothing else . . .

Not even the incessant beeping in my backpack bothered me, vying desperately for my attention. I did notice it somewhere at the edge of my consciousness, but my focus was on Wes’s lips.

I drew closer to him. There was fear in his eyes, and I wondered what it was going to do to him if I kissed him. Did he even want to kiss me? And if he didn’t, why wouldn’t he just stop me? I knew I wanted to kiss him so bad . . . And I definitely would have—

If the beeping in my backpack didn’t turn into a continuous shrill noise. Neither of us could ignore it any longer.

“Torrence?” Wes whispered, his gaze shifting to my backpack. “What’s happening?”

This was when I had to turn away from him and take a look at my backpack too, as much as it pained me to do so. The moment was lost. The opportunity for me to kiss Wes was no longer.

The noise was coming from my Eberline ESP-1. And when I got it out of the backpack, the readout was over 5,000 CPM, rapidly going on 10,000.

Wes looked dumbly at the readout. “Tor? What does it mean? Another malfunction?”

I shook my head. “I don’t—”

Wes stumbled back suddenly, unsteady on his feet. He put his hand over his stomach. “I don’t feel so good,” he breathed. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Suddenly, I didn’t feel too good either. There was ringing in my ears, and my vision started getting blurry.

Wes turned ghost-pale. He looked like he was going to collapse, so I caught him. I held him firmly in my arms, even though I was feeling rather wobbly myself. He held on tight to me.

The noise coming from the Eberline was becoming unbearable. For the first time in my life, something was happening that I didn't have a scientific explanation for. I didn't know what was wrong. What was it making us feel this way? Radiation? But it was impossible!

There was a flash of bright light then—

Made me shut my eyes. And the noise, and the ringing in my ears swelled to the extreme, making me sick. And then there was a loud pop—

And everything stopped . . .

For about a second, it felt like the world disappeared—

And then it reappeared again, no more bright lights or shrill noises.

I opened my eyes, and for a moment I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing. Because we were standing in the middle of Eureka Springs downtown park, somehow. Several cars passed us by, illuminating our silhouettes momentarily with their headlights. I couldn't possibly fathom how we got there. Just a moment ago, we were standing several miles away. And now we were here.

Wes stirred quietly in my arms. He looked disoriented at first, but he quickly seemed to have regained his senses. I wasn't feeling sick anymore. I take it, neither was he. My vision wasn’t blurry. The picture was crystal clear. No doubt, he was seeing what I was seeing. Slowly, he started to pull away from me. When another car passed us by, disappearing behind the trees, he freed himself from my embrace.

He looked around . . . Our bikes were on the ground beside us. Our backpacks. Our picnic blanket. The sweets. My Eberline. How did it all get here was the big question. And also—how did we?

It was already dark. When we were at the freshwater reservoir just a few moments ago, it was 8-ish. Just about the time for sundown. It was full-on dark now, midnight dark. I glanced at my wristwatch. And, mirroring me, Wes glanced at his too. It was quarter to eleven! What in the name of science was going on? Two hours seemed to have been cut out of our lives inexplicably.

The realization of what just happened hit Wes hard. He moved towards his bike unsteadily.

“Wes?” I called out.

He turned to me sharply and pointed his index finger at me. “Nothing happened, all right?” he said, sounding very angry.

“But—” I tried. It was hard to deny that something did happen. But it looked like Wes wasn’t going to have it.

“Nothing happened!” he shouted, staring me down. The tone of his voice suggested there was going to be no argument. I haven't seen him like this before. He looked mad. He looked like if I was going to say something, he was going to punch me.

I bit my tongue.

Picking up his bike, he looked around, still a little confused, seemingly trying to get his bearings. Then he just started walking away from me, leaving me alone.

He did turn and look at me one last time. Very briefly. And then he was gone, pedaling quickly away from me.

I stood there, not knowing what to do, unable to process what had just happened. Well, nothing happened, according to Wes. But it was bullshit.

Something did happen. Several things happened, actually.

I was just going to have to find a way to explain it all. You know, scientifically. Anything could be explained scientifically if you put your mind to it. Or at least, that was what I believed my whole life.

But for the first time in my life, I had a slight suspicion that I might have been wrong about it. . .

***

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