She grabbed my hand, giggling profusely. “Bro, look at me,” she said pyfully. The word “bro” confounded me. Confounded? Who uses words like that, but whatever. I lingered on the word because I couldn’t figure out its purpose. “Bro,” she said with the same joyful tone. I scowled before acknowledging her with a curious stare as we walked to our next css.

  “Did you hear that?” a group of male students said, giggling behind us.”She called him, bro. She must be down bad.”

  I winced. I turned to Christine to see if she noticed.

  She smiled earnestly at me, but I was too deep in thought to reciprocate. “You have beautiful green eyes,” she said as a rosy tint bloomed in her face. I looked away in silent contemption.

  We made our way back to the first floor through a busy second floor, catching stray stares that sted too long along the way. What does she mean by bro? I was coerced into embarrassing myself, pressed in the hall, and, dare I admit, experienced some weird stuff in science, and now she calls me bro. I sighed deeply while trying to figure out if we were just friends now. Not that I’m upset or anything.

  Fingers interlocked, she gently squeezed my hand, gripping my attention. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked whisperingly.

  I started to sigh, but stopped, realizing my disadvantaged position—our interlocked fingers. I stretched with my free arm. If I come across wrong, she could deliver some serious hate. But stringing her along may result in a more aggressive, embarrassing pressing. I thought about the possibility—the outcome, and warmth kissed my cheeks.

  Damn this body, I thought. She didn’t speak again, but I knew she wanted to. Why am I dancing around this F—

  Genie: Frustrating inquiry!

  I wanted to gasp, but doing so would raise more questions I’m not ready to answer. What should I do, genie? I squeezed her hand without thinking. Without knowing the full implications, I may get—

  Genie: Your actions have no dire consequences; furthermore, asking the obvious question will provide relief from your inner turmoil.

  I can’t. Admitting that I couldn’t confront her forced a familiar yet alien feeling as I fought back the urge to cry. Damn it, not again.

  Genie: Perhaps discourse would quell your unrest. Why can’t you provide Christine with an adequate retort? Additionally, I will not provide an answer.

  Jerk, I thought. But I may as well talk to somebody. She called me 'bro,' but is it a friendly term or does it have a deeper meaning? It’s not that I care if she only sees me as a friend, but she’s already id some serious groundwork to work backwards. And I’m not asking her directly because… I might hurt her feelings; not that I care about feelings, but what if she hurts me? She is stronger, and I know she’s been hurt because of—

  Genie: Antwon! Control your emotional output while I process this information and devise an agreeable course of action.

  That’s easy for—shut up, you, because you got me into this sh…situation.

  Christine started to prod at my sleeve, exhibiting, for the first time, a soft, feminine uncertainty; a refreshing gesture. As the crowd thinned out, we drew closer to Miss. Nakamura’s room, slowing the pace. I decided we wouldn’t enter with unresolved issues, but I couldn’t be te again. Genie, for once in this life, help me!

  A swift sensation filled my body and nestled beneath my ribs, filling me with a serene feeling.

  “Christine,” I said without feeling the words come from my mouth. Thank you, genie, for helping me here.

  “Y-yes.” The uncertainty in her voice was remarkably familiar.

  “You’ve called me bro in two adjacent instances.”

  Genie? I thought, unsure of where it was taking the conversation.

  “Using your best connotation,” I said. Genie, no! That’s not what I wanted. You’re going to embarrass me if you—

  “Explicitly expin what bro means to me without exempting any information. Every detail is pivotal.” I couldn’t scream, freeze, or run, but I died, right there. My mind went bnk with echoes of the genie’s words floating in my head.

  “Well,” Christine started. “I’ve never heard nguage like that from you, but..”

  Genie: I have produced the required retort to extract the required information pertaining to the current situation.

  Don’t you dare give me control after that—I felt the sensation fade, fazing my senses back in. My face flushed hot red as my teeth chattered.

  “Bro, is like sis, meaning,” she lightly squeezed my hand, drawing my attention. “I want,” she said, glowing brighter than a polished cherry. “To carry your children.” Her hands trembled in mine, reminding me that she was still a girl. However, my body reminded me that I was still a boy. I pulled the coat of my uniform down and hunched over.

  “Br—”

  “Don’t say it. God, don’t say that word.” I warned her, and I shuffled to css with her hand, pulling with little resistance.

  Curse you, genie! You're always setting me up to fail!

  Genie: My apologies if you didn’t like Christine’s response or the course of action that best resolved the situation. Query: Has your emotional crisis concluded?

  Y-yes.

  Genie: Was her resolution adequate?

  Yes! But you didn’t have to do it like that!