Max exhales. “Me either.”
Fay, who I recognize from her Gchat profile picture, walks up to the group. She’s even prettier in person. She and Max were probably the power couple of the neuroscience department, with Nobel prizes and modeling contracts in their future.
“I don’t know why you’re leaving, Max,” she says. “I was just making a point.”
He laughs bitterly. “That was not a point. That was straight-up sabotage.”
“You’re just being sensitive. You don’t have to throw away your job. Just fix the damn software.”
I’m on the edge of my seat. Tell me what you did, Fay!
Max sets down his box, as if he needs all his focus to say whatever he’s about to say and can’t also hold a box. “Eric made it very clear that both of us are fired because of what you did, Fay!”
While Fay starts going off about how he did some shit too, I ask one of the lab girls who Eric is.
“He’s the principal investigator,” she says. “Our boss.”
I’m piecing it together: Fay got up to some sort of science shenanigans because she’s pissed about the breakup, and now both Fay and Max have been fired.
Fay puts her hands on her hips and gives Max a piercing gaze. “And you’re being dramatic, Max. You’re only fired if you don’t fix it.”
Looking exasperated, Max says, “And what am I supposed to fix? You destroyed two years’ worth of work and I have a few days to figure it out and save my job. It’s over, Fay.”
When Fay says, “You’re not even trying, Max,” I think she’s talking about more than his job. I guess he didn’t work as hard at being a boyfriend as he did at being a scientist.
Max picks up his box. He’s done talking. I recognize the look on his face. He needs some time to process his sudden career change and office drama.
Fay looks in my direction and sizes me up. “Nice dress,” she says. “I’m Fay, Max’s colleague.”
“Former,” Max says.
While Fay and I shake hands, she rolls her eyes at Max. “Former colleague is actually true.”
“Mia’s my new girlfriend,” Max says.
“Mmhmm,” I say, and sidle up to Max, wiggling up against him like he’s catnip, which he basically is.
Fay looks back and forth between the two of us. “Good luck with him, Mia.” Still completely composed and wearing a smile, she says, “He’s a big fat liar.”
This neuroscience lab show is better than the Kardashians.
“I’ve never lied in my life and you know that, Fay.”
Fay flips her silky ponytail over her shoulder and raises her eyebrows. “You think that through while you’re fixing the software.”
Max kisses the top of my head. “Let’s go, Mia.” He calls out to no one in particular, “I’m leaving.”
“What is going on?” I ask.
“Fay fucked with our software and put in a bunch of bugs just to prove a point, something about me. Eric, our boss, told us we’re fired if we can’t fix it. I don’t know what the hell she did and she’s not talking, something about how ‘if I really knew her, I’d be able to fix the project.’ Can you believe it?” He glances my way to make sure I’m following and understand just how crazy Fay is. “There’s no way I’m playing that game.”
“You’d rather lose your job and give up on your dreams than play Fay’s game?”
“Yes.”
Max is apparently so stubborn that he will throw away his whole career for this.
“We’re fired until we prove we’re not all just messing around.”
They are messing around, and I love it—it’s so much more interesting than whatever lie-detection system they’re trying to build. I don’t say that to Max, obviously.
“I don’t know why Fay’s not embarrassed.”
“She’s proud,” I say. I can’t wait to find out what she did.
On our way out, Max has to do “one more thing.” He walks me down the hall to a room with a lot of warnings on the outside about high-powered magnets. DON’T WEAR YOUR WATCH OR BRING CELL PHONES IN, reads one sign, as if anyone has a watch these days. “I have a test subject in the fMRI,” he says. “I’m not going to be able to use this data, so I might as well let her go.”
I follow Max into the room after ditching my phone in a basket outside the door. In the center of the room, there’s a girl in an outfit that features a bolo tie and short shorts, wearing a very large metal helmet. It looks like a prototype of the first scuba diving gear and I’m grateful that her neck is strong enough to hold it up. Max points at a big computer screen displaying a picture of a brain.
“Hers?” I ask.
“Yep, I’m taking pictures of her brain while she’s lying.” He points out the amygdala on the screen. “You can tell this chick is a good liar because of all the extra white matter. Her brain is good at making connections quickly. You need to be pretty smart to be a good liar.”
“How much are you paying her?”
“Twenty bucks an hour. She’s been here for two already.”
I nod with approval. I’d totally tell some lies while wearing a helmet for forty bucks. Too bad his project is over. That sock-drawer money is going to run out soon.
“Thanks for your help, Clarice,” he says to the girl, handing her forty bucks in cash.
“I bet you got some good data today,” she says. “I spent the whole time creating a fake online profile for Bumble. Like, for real. I’m going to use it.”
I chew on that for a minute. “I don’t know,” I say, “is lying online even lying?”
Max looks shocked at that suggestion. “Of course it is.”
“I don’t know, exaggeration on dating websites is pretty much expected.”
Max raises an eyebrow. “That’s actually a good point. Exaggeration to impress a potential mate might not be lying exactly, but…I need a break.” He loses steam mid-thought, probably because he just remembered that he’s giving up on science and leaving this all behind. “Wanna get some tacos? And maybe a beer?”
I’m human so tacos sound amazing. “As long as they have a vegetarian option,” I say. JP might be bachelor of the year, but so far Brenda is the real love of my life.
“Got it. How was your morning?” he asks. “Any news?”