Her

It's just as well that I'm now dead inside. I just wish things had been different.

You see, from the time I moved into Aidan's home last April, I fell for him. He freed me from my boxy white package, and I gazed upon him for the first time. He took me in his soft, peach hands, sat me next to his keyboard, and began to type. After a few minutes, I chirped loudly.

He spoke softly, "Now, you're paired with my account, so I can track you anywhere you go."

Those words truly meant a lot to me. After being locked in a box alone for what seemed like an eternity, I was now free and accepted.

When I arrived, he introduced me to our two roommates. At first, I worried they would overshadow me, and I would be forgotten. After all, they're shiny all over, but I only shine on one side. But soon, we all became joined at the hip. And no worries, I know I'm special, because when I chirp, he pays attention to me.

"Oh, there you are," he always says to me when I chirp for him.

Aidan is so amazing. See, most people don't really notice him and find him quite...average. But if you truly get to know him, you will find him stellar.

The thing about Aidan is that he is so incredibly smart. Oftentimes, he's reading one new book or another, or watching online videos about history, philosophy, or some other random facts. He has such an excellent memory.

Occasionally, we all go out at night with him. We relax on a sticky table while he's turning up a glass of yellow liquid, guffawing with two other guys.

One time, he shared a fun fact with them. He told them, "Did you know that the government began painting dollar bills green because green ink was widely available, durable, and the color was linked with the idea of stability?"

One of his buddies, Ron, said, "No, didn't know that," but their faces were so blank. They just seemed entranced by their own glasses of yellow fizz.

At least I believed this new information was fascinating. I couldn't tell what my roommates thought. It's hard to read them. I wish I could tell him that at least I care.

Sometimes, he'll get on the phone and begin to talk. Every once in a while, he receives a call that shifts his mood. I can tell who he's talking to by his tone.

"No, Dad. I can't move out of my apartment. I can't buy a house yet. I'm still working part-time."

I hear a muffled voice on the other end, but I can never make out the words. But I always know what comes next.

"Listen, I've applied to a lot of full-time positions...part-time is all I can find right now...no, I don't regret my profession," then he continues, "No, Dad, I don't wanna be a failure. I swear I'm trying. I really am."

And then, like clockwork, he gets off the phone, throws it on the floor, stomps into his bedroom, and slams the door. And right on cue, a thumping sound can be heard from the ceiling. Two thumps. Always.

He's such a wonderful man. He deserves better.

Most mornings, Aidan takes us with him to work. We spend a couple of hours lying quietly on the cold pine desk as he speaks to groups of young adults.

The confidence he exudes when he shares what he knows about proxy wars between the United States and the Soviet Union in faraway places like Afghanistan and Vietnam - it's so sexy. The engaging graphics he uses to walk through the Cuban Missile Crisis timeline are genius, and how he trains his bedroom eyes on the crowd makes him even more attractive. And while I've learned more about Josef Stalin's Five-Year Plans than I care to admit, the way he delivers those nuggets of knowledge to the rows of people writing things down on paper notebooks and electronic tablets is a beautiful sight to behold.

If only those kids could truly appreciate this man's incredible intellect and sharp wit.

After that, we typically head to a small room, where he places my roommates and I on a brown surface next to a row of books of many colors and ages. It's a bit dusty up there, but it'll do, I suppose. After all, there isn't exactly a lot of space in this claustrophobic room. Aidan sits across from us at a grey metal desk, and he's often typing, or he's poring over a stack of papers with a bright red pen. That pen...we don't know her. She stays in this room always.

He's usually there for a few hours. Occasionally, one of those people who listens to him in the morning will stop by and ask him questions. He always knows the answers. Then, he picks us up and we all head home.

This is our life, and it is a good one. Or at least, it was. But that all changed recently, and it started right here in this windowless room.

***

It was a normal Wednesday afternoon. My roommates and I sat by the books, while Aidan was across from us at his desk. He wore his familiar light blue button-up shirt, brown sport jacket, and relaxed fit jeans. This time, he was focused with red pen in hand and a tall stack of white papers.

Then, there was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," Aidan called.

A woman trudged into the room. She appeared pretty ordinary, nothing of note. She was of average height, slightly pudgy, and had short, curly dark brunette hair and blue glasses. She was wearing a fluffy maroon pullover sweater, skinny blue jeans, and brown chukka boots. She was carrying a purple felt tote bag.

"Hi, Emma. Have a seat."

She sat down and crossed her legs. "Hi, Dr. Smith. I wanna talk to you about my research paper," she said, pulling a set of papers from the tote and handing it to Aidan.

He leafed his way through the paper.

She continued, "It's on page five. You crossed this out and wrote that it was incorrect."

He then turned to the page Emma pointed out. "That's because it is incorrect."

Emma then slid out another piece of paper and gave it to him. "In the directions you handed out for the paper, you wanted us to reference an example of a Cold War proxy war."

"Yes."

"And I gave the example of the Years of Lead in Italy that went on from the 1960s to the 1980s."

"Yes, but proxy wars, by definition, should be wars. The Years of Lead were a series of terror attacks perpetrated by non-state actors, not armed conflict between states."

"I understand, Dr. Smith. But there's reason to believe the terrorist groups had backing from the major superpowers."

My mind drifted as Aidan and Emma vigorously yet respectfully debated their positions. The constant flowing sound of the heat register became more enthralling than deciding what war means. But something in the air shifted, and it wasn't the vent.

"Well, Emma, you make very compelling points. I'll concede to your case, and I'll update your grade." He picked up the red pen and wrote something on her paper, handed it back to her, and then typed something on the keyboard.

"Thank you, Dr. Smith!" She smiled broadly.

"Call me Aidan."

"Uh, thanks Aidan, I appreciate this."

"You're very welcome. You're an incredibly smart woman. You'll go very far. I see you're majoring in government?"

"Yes, yes. I enjoy your courses a lot. I learn so much from you."

"I see. I believe this is the second you've taken from me-"

"Third. I took your international relations intro course and political theory before signing up for this one."

"I see. I'm glad to hear you've gotten a lot out of my courses."

"Yes, for sure."

"So, Emma, I understand you're in your third year. What are your plans after you graduate?"

"I wanna go to law school. I'm taking the LSAT over the summer, probably in August. I'm studying hard for it."

"Okay," Aidan responded, nodding. "A lot of government majors go to law school, and it's a valid choice. But have you thought about becoming a college professor?"

Emma shifted in her wooden seat. "No, not really."

"Maybe you should. You're great at engaging with the information you're given, rather than just regurgitating it. You're a thinker, Emma. The academy is the perfect choice for someone who thinks the way you do."

"Uh...I'll think about it."

"Please do. You're the kind of student made for a PhD program. And if you decide to go that route, I'll be more than happy to mentor you through the process and give you a very good reference." Aidan smiled slyly.

"I'll consider it. Thank you, Dr. Smith...uh...Aidan."

A feeling of intense anger welled up inside of me. Why is Aidan so focused on this girl? Why Emma? She was no different than the other young people disinterested in his brilliance, or the ones who show up to the tiny room every once in a while. Sure, she got her way when others don't, but was this truly enough to capture his attention? I guess it was. Ugh.

***

After that day, I hoped that everything would go back to normal. I mean, I adored our life together. But after that fateful meeting, nothing would ever be the same between us.

Aidan's peaceful evenings of watching online history documentaries and trivia videos now consisted of hours in front of a bright screen pounding away on the keyboard. More than once, I caught a glance of Emma's face on the monitor, with what looked like her name and other boring facts about her that I couldn't care less about.

Quality time spent with our roommates and me began to dwindle. He spent evenings with his bedroom door closed, all alone yet moaning Emma's name. I would just hang out with my roommates next to the door to the outside world, and they were just as speechless as I was.

His ventures drinking golden fizzy liquid with his friends became few and far between. When he did go out with them, the vibe was not the same as it used to be. Instead of attempting to interest his buddies in trivia, he brought up the subject of her.

"I met this incredible woman, she's beautiful, incredibly smart, everything I could want."

"Oh, that's cool," his friend Jake responded. "Told you to try online dating - see how well that works?"

"No, no Jake. I still haven't started online dating. I met this girl out in the wild."

"Nice, Aidan," Ron noted approvingly. "Tell us about her. What's her name? How old is she? What does she look like?"

"And how did you meet her?" Jake added.

Aidan took a long sip of his fizz and explained. "Okay, so her name's Emma, she's twenty-one..."

"That's a little bit young - I mean, you're thirty-six, and this girl can barely drink," Ron pointed out.

"The girl is legal, though...Ron, give the man a break," Jake admonished him. "Anyway, go on, Aidan."

"It's fine. Sure, a twenty-one year old is not for everyone, but she's so mature for her age. She's a brunette, and she has deep brown eyes and wears glasses. She's curvy, just how I like them." He then pulled his cell phone out and handed it to his friends.

"Oh, she does look nice," Jake noted.

"Young, bro. Jailbait young. You sure she's twenty-one?" Ron asked.

"I'm totally sure. I met her up at the university."

"Oh wow," Ron noted. "Wait a second...bro, she's not one of your students, is she?"

Aidan's face became contorted. It was a look I had seen before from those intense conversations with his father. "If she is, why does it matter? She's a grown woman, she knows what she wants."

Jake sighed. "I was on your side, man. But these kinds of relationships never turn out well. Teacher-student...it's like a peon dating the boss. Be careful, bro. This might get you in some trouble with the university."

Aidan began to raise his voice. "The fuck? You of all people should know how long I've been waiting for someone like Emma. She's amazing, she's wonderful, she's perfect, and there's no way I'm gonna have anybody stand in the way of my love!"

Love? Aidan's words broke my heart in two. What about me? How could you forget about me?

"Whoa, chill," Jake reacted, attempting to deescalate the situation. "Not trying to piss you off. Just wanna watch out for you."

"Don't." Aidan stood up, swooped us up so fast I felt a jolt to my system, and we left.

As awful as things became after that meeting with Emma, I didn't think it could get any worse. Until it did.

***

It was two weeks after the night Aidan argued with his friends over Emma. Other than our trips to his work, we stayed home. He stopped really looking for me, and I hardly ever chirped. He rarely spent any time with me, other than our trips to and from work.

A thick layer of tension was in the air. I should have read the tea leaves, but deep in my core, I hoped and believed that he would eventually forget about the young, ordinary woman who had stolen his heart from me.

That morning felt like most other mornings. Aidan was dressed in a white button-up shirt, a red cardigan, and khakis. He approached us, as if we were getting ready to head to work with him. He grasped us in his hand, but then, he took me, and separated me from my roommates. They jiggled a bit, but otherwise had very little to say. The betrayal was real. The look in his face was pure joy, but I could not understand why.

After he set me apart from my roommates, he placed me, alone, in his dark, warm pocket. Moments later, I heard a familiar roar, as if we were leaving the apartment. The noise stopped after about twenty minutes, and soon after that, I heard him speak.

"Good morning! Today, we have a pop quiz."

The groans were loud and distinct.

"If you've been paying attention and reading the assigned pages in the textbook, you'll do well. You have fifteen minutes."

Soon after, there was complete silence, except for the sound of Aidan's soft footsteps. Then, it happened.

I felt the touch of his hand as he lifted me from his pocket. But quickly and quietly, he slipped me into a purple tote bag. I had seen this place before.

He made his choice. He let me go. He gave me away - to her.

***

The tote was so unfamiliar, so cramped. It smelled odd, like floral perfume. Stuck underneath hefty tomes and unfriendly knick knacks, I knew I definitely didn't belong there. I longed to be back in Aidan's fairly peaceful home, in his warm, loving hands. I missed his soothing voice. I missed his gentle touch.

In the darkness bellowed a series of strange voices, all kinds of words I had not heard before, such as "Pearson correlation coefficient" and "R-squared." I felt faint as I was constantly being jostled around, pushed against the books, and lifted again. I got used to hearing a different pattern of what sounded like footsteps.

It was so much to take in all at once. Between being dumped by my soulmate and my entire life being turned upside down, I was drained.

Some time later, I was on the move again. In the background, soft music played with a little bit of a beat.

"Welcome to Joan's Coffee House! What would you like?"

"I'll have an Americano, extra half and half, three pumps of hazelnut and double whip on top," Emma stated.

"I'll just have a coffee black," uttered a deep male voice.

"That's eight dollars and twenty-nine cents."

A few minutes later I fell again. That hurt. Emma and the man were talking for a while. Their conversation was nothing like hearing Aidan talk. This sounded mundane and tedious. Then, they started discussing Emma's future.

"So, Brad, I was talking to one of my government professors recently, and he was saying I should think about going to grad school instead of law school."

"Why would you do that, Em?" the young man asked.

"Good question. He said that he was impressed by the way I think, and I would do great in a PhD program. And maybe he's right."

"Look, sis. You would totally kick ass at anything you put your mind to. But have you seen how bad it is for PhDs in the humanities and social sciences?"

"No, not really. How bad is it?"

"My old college roommate, Chris - you remember him?"

"Yeah."

Out of the blue, I began to feel a spark of life.

"He's a history adjunct," the man continued, "so he teaches part-time. That's all he can get after years of studying for his PhD. He works a second job at the warehouse down by the river just to make ends meet."

"Oh, damn."

I chirped. I hadn't chirped in weeks. My mind danced with hope. Aidan's coming back for me!

"I know you don't want me telling you what to do, but as your big brother, I just wanna watch out for you."

"I get it, Brad. And besides, I know I can call on you for all my law school questions," Emma commented, laughing.

"Of course! When you've got the best corporate attorney in town on your side, what could possibly go wrong?"

***

After about an hour, I was on the move again. Emma's footsteps pounded fast, but I was still chirping with all my might.

"What the hell is that sound?" Emma mumbled.

A few minutes later, I knew rescue was imminent.

"Emma!"

Oh my god, I can't believe it!

"Uh...Aidan...what are you doing here on campus this late at night?"

"I came to find you."

"Oh...I'll be in class tomorrow, so..."

"I needed to see you now. Look, Emma, from when you first walked into my office last month, I haven't stopped thinking about you. You are so amazing. We're made for each other. And I thought to myself, 'We could be an academic power couple.'"

No... I thought he came back for me.

"But then, I saw you at Joan's with your boyfriend-"

"That's my brother."

Aidan took a deep breath. "Oh, thank God."

"Look, Aidan, I'm flattered, but I'm not interested in dating you. You're my professor. That would be weird."

"There's someone else, isn't there?"

"No, but that's not the point. You're very nice, and I appreciate your help, but I'm just not interested in dating you. I hope you can find the right person-"

Then, I heard loud coughs.

"Stop...Aidan...stop..."

"We're soulmates, Emma," Aidan called out, strained. "Soulmates! You should've given me a chance!"

A few minutes later, she was silent, and so was I. There was a rustling in the darkness, and I felt his fingertips pulling me free. But they seemed wrong, somehow. Back into his warm pocket I went.

About half an hour later, I was back home. Thank God. Despite the odd feeling, I looked forward to being back with my roommates, and I hoped that with Emma having no interest, Aidan and I would be reunited, and our lives would be back to normal.

I was wrong.

As I heard the door close, and he continued to walk, I fell. Turns out, the pocket had a hole. I slipped onto the living room floor and bounced through the giant grate into the darkness.

Every so often, I can faintly hear Aidan's voice. "Where did I put it...it was in my pocket..." But my life force has faded, and so did the one thing that set me apart, as I can chirp no more.