“Would you rather be pitied or envied?” she said.

“Envied.” I said. “Of course.”

She made a few more marks on the paper. The sound of the pen irritated me. It seemed too slow, she was writing too slow. I looked at my watch again. 10:32 AM.

“Mmm hmm. And would you rather have power such that you could do something, or power such that you didn't have to do anything?”

“Are these actually different powers?” I asked. “Like, is one power greater than the other?”

“Mmmmmm...” she said, for too long. “It's more a matter of perspective.”

“The power to do things.” I said.

More slow pen scratches. She was holding the pad of paper tilted just a little towards her, so I couldn't see what was on it, but by sitting up and leaning forward a bit, I could see it. Obviously I was tempted, but I felt like if I tried, I would have lost something important. Instead I just looked at my watch again. 10:33AM. Only a minute had passed since the last time I looked. In my mind, it had been... five or six minutes, maybe, it was hard to tell. In another, very real, very scary, way, it felt like no time had passed at all, even though a minute really had, and thus it seemed like many more minutes could pass in this fashion, perhaps too many, all at once, before I had any chance to notice or stop them. Stop them how? I wasn't sure.

“How many more questions?” I asked.

“The session will take approximately one hour.” she said. “As you had been informed previously.”

“I know, but...” I said. “I thought I could speed through it, maybe.”

She wrote something else down. Was she writing down something about what I just said? Had that now become part of the scope of the evaluation? Or maybe she was still writing something about the previous answer? How much was there to say? I felt my legs tense, as if I was about to stand up more, as if I was about to try to look, but I stopped myself.

“If you have an appointment, do you try to arrive early or right on time?” she asked. “And if early, how early to you hope to arrive?”

“Are you asking this because of my situation?” I asked. “Or is it just a coincidence?”

“I'm not sure if I know what you mean.” she said, and wrote something else down.

Of course it was a coincidence. She didn't know my situation. What was I thinking. “I try to arrive about 15 minutes early.” I said, and looked at my watch again. 10:37. Almost 10:40, which was almost 10:50, which was basically 11. What a disaster.

“If you have to run an errand, and you also want to go to a store that relates to your personal hobbies or interests where you may or may not make an unnecessary purchase, which would you do first?” she asked.

“What?” I said.

“The necessary errand or the unnecessary purchase.” she said. “Which comes first?”

/

As soon as I felt her grip relax on the envelope containing the Pizza Hut Two For One Lunch Buffet coupon that was agreed upon as the token of appreciation for my participation, I wheeled around and began to move in a focused robot-like way towards the Pizza Hut down the road, moving as quickly and as directly as society and laws would allow. Without stopping I checked my watch again. 11:04. Our agreed upon meeting time was 12PM. Without stopping I pulled out my phone and looked up the Pizza Hut in Google Maps. It took an irritatingly long time to load. A 27 minute long walk. There was a bus that would be faster, but what if it didn't show up? Then I would have wasted time waiting and would still have to make the walk.

If I walked quickly I could still get there more than 15 minutes before the agreed upon meeting time. Even if I fell down several times I would still make it in time. Even if all the lights were such that I had to wait to cross I would still make it in time. Yes. Yes. I put in my earbuds and started an album that I had recommended to her when we talked online. I listened to it trying to imagine myself as her listening to it for the first time. I walked even faster.

/

On the bus ride home, I listened to the album again. She hadn't listened to it yet. She said she had forgotten. But the way she said she had forgotten was good. It was bright, somehow. Like she was sorry she had forgotten but she was very excited that now she remembered, and now she would get to listen to it. That made me happy. I was listening to it thinking about how excited she would be, listening to it for the first time.

Our agreed upon next move would be to message each other again through the website and to set up a second meeting. A second date? Yes, a second date. It had been a date. I had even paid for her, via the Two For One Lunch Buffet coupon. And I had paid for her drink too. Ginger ale. I liked that. I liked ginger ale and I liked her too. I tried to think about what I would message her on the website but I couldn't think of anything good. My hands were in sweaty fists. Was I nervous? Just sitting on the bus, was I nervous?

I thought about what would happen if she really really liked me, liked me so much that she was too nervous to message me to set up a second date. It was a nice idea, but also a scary idea, because then we might not message each other.

I thought about what would happen if she really really hated me, hated me so much that she wasn't going to ever message me ever again. It was a terrible idea, so terrible my stomach hurt, but I realized that there would be no way to tell if it was the first case, that she liked me too much, or this second case, that she hated me too much, so I decided that if she didn't message me, I would assume it was the first case.

My head was resting against the window. I didn't remember putting it there. It was only 1:33PM but I felt exhausted. The houses of the suburbs passed me one by one, and I began to play a little game with myself: I started with the number five, and for each house, if there was a car in the driveway, I'd add one, and if there wasn't, I'd subtract one, and by the time the bus got to my house, the number would reflect how much she liked me. A silly, whimsical idea. I felt myself drift into it.

Suddenly my phone buzzed. Someone was calling, a number I did not know, a number I couldn't seem to properly read.

“Hello?” I said.

“We have the results of your testing.” someone said. It was the woman from the thing earlier.

“Huh?” I said.

“You did it.” she said. “You're the one.”

Everyone on the bus started applauding. My dad stood up in the seat behind me and rubbed my hair. “Good job, sport.” he said.

The bus driver honked the horn and turned around in the seat and said “Yee haw!”.

All the cars outside started honking their horns too and I looked in their windows and the drivers were giving me thumbs up.

Then the bus driver shook me awake. I blinked a few times and looked around. We were at the mall and it was 2:53PM.

“It's the end of the line, kid.” the bus driver said.