Simon:

After what seemed like half a decade, I woke not to the soft voice and sweet amethyst eyes of the lovely Jeanette like one would in a fairytale. I knew the neuro-transmitter would blow up regardless, but rather than waking up to the chipette of my dreams, I saw through the smoke and blurred vision the intense electric blue only Brittany had. My breath was shallow, and my head numb as if I'd been shot with a powerful tranquilizer. Ringing. I also heard ringing. Not that of a telephone but a ringing similar to that being hit in the head so hard your ears bled (which, by the way, I didn't think was my case). The gym floor vibrated as entrants, judges and families filed out. Last time there wasn't any fire, just smoke. And I prayed this time was no different.

"Are you okay?" Brittany's voice was tender, barely audible thanks to the irritating ring. The very fact it hadn't subsided by now was worrisome. Last time there was no ring. I didn't think I could feel any worse until Brittany continued, "Alvin? Alvin, are you okay?" My heart sank into my upset stomach and when I tried to answer I choked on the thin cloud of smoke hovering low despite the doors and windows being held open.

It didn't work.

Whatever me or Alvin did, it didn't work. Whoever's fault it was, we were still trapped in the other's body. No, not whoever's. This was a team effort. Both of us played a part. Both were to blame. I tilted my head to the left where I noticed a distressed Jeanette tending to my unconscious brother. My body. She was treating my body as if it were royalty. My head was pillowed in the softness of her lap and my body was being held with gentleness of a newborn. How unfair. No disrespect to Brittany, I had her undivided attention, but I wanted Jeanette. I wanted to wake up and have her as my caretaker, even if she was still mad at me.

My body, rather – the body I was stuck in, refused to move any further. The headache I developed from the ringing was too much, and pain shot throughout my fingertips. Brittany's questions and (what resembled) whispers fell on deaf ears as I drifted off into the sweet folds of sleep, my desperate attempt to get away from it all.

*SCENE*

What happened after I jerked into consciousness to the point where I could move my fingers and toes was uncomfortable to say the least. I convinced the attending nurse in her office that I was fine through gritted teeth. I wanted to get back to the machine and assess the damage. Looking at Alvin gave me a strange queasiness I hadn't felt before. Not with food poisoning. Not with dehydration. Something was different about him. He didn't say anything, and allowed the nurse to inspect his body for any injuries. I wondered if he was hiding something, but quickly shook the idea away. Maybe something really was wrong. He went with the motion but made no effort to respond. An internal injury? A brain injury? Satisfied that I was merely a little lethargic, I was cleared, and while everyone waited with Alvin, I left the comfort of my family to retrieve my pathetic project.

The gym still reeked of smoke, but it had cleared enough to breathe and see without trouble. The dirty air shone in the feint sunlight coming in through the windows. Plastic shrapnel reached the far corners of the gym, reminiscing a warzone. Banners that hung on the walls now carried debris. Luckily, the lights hadn't been hit or maybe there really would have been a fire. It was no wonder the gym had been cleared out and the science fair cancelled. At this point I didn't have any emotion left to care about the other entrants or their projects, which mostly seemed in one piece.

To tell the truth, it was hard to care about the state of my own project.

I stepped up to the pile of rubble that remained. After weeks of working myself to death this is what I had to show. I knew it wouldn't grant me a scientific reward, but it couldn't even get me back in my own body. I picked up a random piece here and another there when I realized, with full hands that there was no bag to put them in. The motion of cleaning was inconsequential.

I dropped the rubble and picked up the remote, somehow still intact save for a crack over the "Ready For Use" light. "Where did I go wrong?" I thought. My great scientific project that was going to revolutionize the way we see one another turned out to be nothing more than a burden. It was in ruins all over again. Was it a fluke that it switched me and Alvin in the first place? Were we stuck like this forever? Was I just feeding my own ego thinking I knew how to switch us back? "Just do what we did before," I thought, sitting in the pile of rubble, "Idiot."

I did what I usually did in situations like this. I thought. I tried to think of a way to solve this. Tried to think of a way to fix the machine, the mistake, that ruined my life. Tried to think of excuses. Had Alvin messed with the formula? Used too much? Had I told him to grab too little? Did he even grab the right chemical? The longer I thought the more I noticed they deviated to myself. To what a screwup I was. They had me second-guessing my own volitions. Why did I ever ask Alvin for help to steal the formula in the first place? How could I be so stupid? This entire time I'd been blaming my poor brother when all roads led back to me. I failed as a scientist. I failed as a friend to Brittany and Jeanette. And I failed as a brother.

Looking down at the remote only reminded me of my failures, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. I deserved to feel this way. Until I could bring things back to normal, what right did I have to feel otherwise? Jeanette, bless her soul, suffered because of my selfish decisions. While crying seemed the appropriate reaction to my self-pity, my eyes were dry as a bone. Instead, I sat unmoving, thinking about what it would be like to live Alvin's life forever.

"I'm sorry, Jeanie," I said, "I can't clean up this mess like I usually do." The gym door creaked open, but I couldn't be bothered to look for who it was. I noticed a subtle smell of fruit breaking through the remainder of the smoke.

"Alvin? You here?" Brittany's voice went through one drooped ear and out the other.

"That's me." I croaked without facing my partner. For a split second I believed my own words. I was Alvin; could anything really change that now? If each day I pulled on a red hoodie with a yellow "A" on it, blew off school, played sports and videogames all day and royally mess up at every opportunity, would it be so bad? I could be Alvin. I could screw up. I have screwed up. "Well," I thought out loud, "At least I have that part covered."

I jumped at the sudden touch of Brittany's hand. Cold, yet warm at the same time.

"Alvin, what's wrong?" I could feel her gaze and her anguish as she tried to face me, but I dared not meet it. Instead, I opted to stare at her feet, dusty from the destruction and chaos I created. I refused to let go of the remote. "Why did you care so much about Simon's science project...?" She trailed off, as if knowing the question was pointless. "Please look at me." My face hung low, but I knew I couldn't avoid her forever. Why couldn't she leave me alone? I wasn't the munk she thought she loved, was I? Hoping it would earn me space to think, I flicked my eyes, my hazel eyes, up for a brief moment.

In that half-second I lost myself in this beautiful chipette's eyes, waves of memories flooded through my mind. Everything we'd been through over the years. Did we really spend so much time together? I thought I spent time with someone else. Who? You know who. Strange. A voice that seemed all too familiar, as if it were my own, coursed through my mind. I felt Brittany's fear and concern manifest inside me, hushing the voice. For a short time, I was awash in something other than regret. Why did I feel regret anyway? Why did I care so much about this machine? I dropped the remote I held in my hands. This was Simon's problem, and I just got roped into it. A ringing in my head intensified, dropping me to the floor.

This is "my" problem. Not "Simon's"! That voice… It reminded me of Simon's.

"Brit," I said, clutching my head and clenching my eyes shut, "Can we go home?" She let out a small noise and helped me off the ground. Sure, we fought a lot (No we didn't!), but deep down I knew she cared.

"Of course," She blinked, holding my hand. Her grip told me she had something on her mind, "Everyone's still at the nurse's office with Simon." She sounded like she had more to say, opening her mouth, only to shut it several times. Like a fish in water. She'd be one colourful fish.

I was thankful that Simon's obsession with his crazy experiment hadn't killed him. ME! I mean, it nearly killed me on multiple occasions, but losing a brother would be brutal. Walking through the halls of the school reminded me of when we first met. No, it doesn't! These aren't my memories… The school itself hasn't changed much since, but I like to think I've grown just a little. You haven't.

Before pushing our way into the nurse's office, Brittany turned, bumping into me.

"Alvin," She said, ensuring her voice didn't crack. It was never a good sign when she addressed me by name. She had each hand on my shoulders and her eyes shimmered as if they were puddles in the moonlight. Whatever was on her mind was serious. Joking about it wasn't an option, though I was nervous one would blurt out. "Simon told me something yesterday that, when I first heard it, sounded like some kind of crazy cry for help. But…" She gently pressed her forehead against mine, closing me off from my reflection. I had a feeling my mouth was drier than it ought to be. She wasn't fevered but the heat from her face being so close to mine was enough to turn me red. "But now I don't know." Her eyes opened wide, deafening the ringing in my head.

"He said that you and he switched bodies somehow." Her little pink nose poked mine and I sucked in what little air I could. This wasn't like the Brittany I knew. Why was so nervous? My hands, cold and clammy, somehow found their way to her waist. Shivers sailed through my body. Stop. The eerie voice of my brother. What kind of conscience was he? Brittany was electrifying. Scary. The voice in my head was warning me. But why? A name. It was saying a name, but I couldn't make it out.

"You and Simon have been acting strange lately," Brittany continued, letting out a gasp of hot air, "Jeanette told me what happened too. She had this idea that Simon might actually be telling the truth. That would mean Alvin has been telling the truth and you, Simon, were lying to me. At the time, I told Jeanette she was being naïve. Was I silly to say that about my own sister?" Jeanette? Naïve? Jeanette! Jeanette – that's what Simon's voice was saying! But why would I hear Jeanette's name?

"How could anyone think we switched bodies?" I whispered, focusing on the colour of Brittany's eyes rather than the severity. I stared into a set of undoubtedly beautiful blue eyes. Should they be a different colour? I imagined what they would look like purple. Strangely alluring. I asked a legitimate question, but sweat dripped down the side of my head anyway, like I had something to hide.

"That's what I thought too," Brittany said and shifted. It wasn't until now that I noticed her arms around my neck, "But everything leading up to today, even 10 minutes ago when I found you in the gym. It would explain a lot." The breath of each of her words hit my lips. The over-pronunciation of a single syllable would have us kissing. Was it nerves that had me thinking this was so wrong? Nerves? You wish! That voice again. This is wrong because you're not Alvin.

"Simon wouldn't be comfortable if I was doing this with him." I could barely hear her begging tone. Praying I was who I said I was. That we would kiss, jog into the nurse's office hand-in-hand, and live life together. Why didn't she believe me when I said I was Alvin? I believed me, didn't I?

"No, he wouldn't like it," I said, "He's got the hots for… Jeanette." Upon saying her name, the ringing screamed like a panic alarm, shattering my ear drums. Why did Jeanette's name resonate with me? You know why. Simon's voice was really starting to get to me. "Brit, don't my eyes tell you everything you need to know?" Her eyes told me everything. Could she read me like I could read her? Brittany closed the doors to her story and backed away, wincing, but maintaining her grasp.

"I can't trust your eyes," She said, "Sometimes I think I see Alvin, but right now all I see are empty, listless eyes. It's like you're real, but you have the eyes of a mannequin. Time to go. Against whatever judgement I had, I pulled Brittany in close.

"My name is Alvin," I said, "I'm no fake." I wasn't convincing, even to myself.

"DANGIT Simon Seville, is that you in there?!" Brittany shouted, obviously embarrassed that she had to ask such a ridiculous question.

"Yeah," Simon's head poked out of the office door, "We all are, remember?" Brittany, flustered, groaned emphatically, and pushed her way into the room, readying herself for home.

*SCENE*

What remained of Simon's machine sat in the trunk, rattling around. Simon himself looked uncomfortable. Not upset that he lost the science fair, just uncomfortable. He recoiled every now and then, especially whenever he looked my way. Maybe he had a headache too. Next to me, he was the closest to the explosion. Although, I was well known to be the cause of his headaches. That's the truest thing you've ever thought. Jeanette, who had been angry at Simon all week, tried her best to sit with him on the way home. She must have forgiven him for whatever stupid thing he did. I guess explosions will get you some sympathy points. Brittany was having none of it. She dragged Jeanette to the back seat with her for a little "sisterly bonding," whatever that meant. I'm only glad my brothers never wanted that. It was just as well. If I had to sit with Brittany, who knows how bad my headache would get. Sitting next to Simon, my head was throbbing as it was.

"We need to talk when we get home," Simon snarled in my ear while Theodore was distracted. So much for the whole bonding thing.

"Si, I know you're upset, but I swear I did everything just as you said!" Did I though? I couldn't remember anything before the explosion. I couldn't even remember anything after helping him get the formula for his machine. The way he was acting, I thought I might get torn apart with Dave watching. Confusion glossed over Simon's colourless eyes, as if to say, 'what the heck are you talking about?'

"Simon, you don't need to pretend when you talk to me. You hit your head or something?" Now was my turn to be confused. Why was he calling me Simon? And what was I supposed to be pretending? The ringing flared up again, vibrating every vertebra in my body. Wooziness settled in and I thought I might lose my breakfast. Simon (Simon?) must have felt the same, as he grabbed hold of my hand with no signs of letting go. Dust shook off my sweater as I involuntarily shook and gripped at my brother's hand. And eventually I felt myself light and free, as if floating. No, I wasn't floating. I wasn't even me!

The paralysis eased slowly, and I looked over at my body. My body that wasn't mine. I looked down. Still wearing red. But my mind told me blue. I was still in Alvin's body. Wait – Alvin's body? I'm Simon! S-I-M-O-N. Why did I think I was Alvin? And how did I get in the car?

"Are you guys okay?" Theodore asked, holding his paws together in a ball.

"Just dandy." Alvin sighed, rubbing his temples.

*SCENE*

The bright lights of the washroom burned my retinas in an unwelcome white light, turning the headache into a constant cymbal crashing against my skull. There was nowhere else for us to hide. Brittany and Jeanette attempted to catch us before we ran into the house, but the pain was so acute, Alvin and I decided to push past them. I didn't enjoy being rude, but this was a LITTLE more important than manners.

"What the heck was that?" Alvin said, grimacing as he slammed the washroom door. He bounced up to the lock and twisted it in place.

"I don't know," I replied, hopping up to the mirror to check myself out, "Some sort of seizure, perhaps?"

"What are you doing?" Alvin hopped next to me, looking his own body head to toe. The door to the bathroom jiggled. The Chipettes! Couldn't it wait?

"Let us in!" Brittany shouted from under the door.

"Alvin," I said in a hushed tone and noticing his eyes devoid of colour, "What happened to you after the fair? Was there ever a time where you thought you were me? Like we hadn't switched bodies in the first place?" Alvin pinched the bridge between his eyes. His headache, much like my own, seemed to have worsened the closer I got to him.

"No, it wasn't like that." He hit his head with the palm of his hand, "Thing is… I can't remember anything. It's like I was hovering over your body. I felt empty. Your body looked hollow. I wasn't in control of it. You moved briefly on your own, but you wouldn't talk and eventually you just shut down and went to sleep. It wasn't until I heard you and Brittany talking that I was pulled back in." After hearing Alvin's side of the story, I keyed him in on my own experience, even though I hardly understood it. I told him how my own consciousness had been replaced or tricked. I had become Alvin Seville. I could hear everything 'Alvin' said, feel his movements. I might have even been the one telling him what to do. But part of me had kept my sanity. Part of me knew that I wasn't who I was acting as. I could hear my own voice telling me what was right and wrong. My personality was his, and I also had his memories prior to the switch.

The banging on the door continued, aggravating my head. The lights flickered in a way that was more than bothersome, and fear that a similar experience would occur had me cowering in the sink.

"I'm sorry I got us into this mess," I said, trying not to look up at my brother, "Sure, you made a couple mistakes, but the neuro-transmitter wasn't ready. Not as anything more than an idea in my stupid head. I shouldn't have asked you for help." Alvin hopped into the sink and wrapped me in an awkward hug.

"Bro, it's not all your fault," He breathed, "I have a confession." I was only partly listening. Whatever he had to say, whatever he did, at best it would provide the answer to one question on a list of hundreds. If I didn't know what was going on, how could I fix it? NO! That was the kind of thinking that spurred on the weird switch to Alvin's personality. "Simon? Helloooooooo?" I broke out of my trance, "Did you hear me?"

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I SAID 'I MIGHT have grabbed the wrong stuff from Mr. Crout's cupboards.'" This made my head snap his way. That explained the headache, but why did our subconsciouses get so mixed up? How was it fixed? Why didn't Alvin think he was me?

"If that's the case," I said, too preoccupied to be angry (or maybe so angry I couldn't clearly express it), "We may have a deadline to fix this problem too." I jumped off the vanity and up to the door lock, "But first I feel like relaxing with some videogames."

"What?" Alvin bolted out of the sink and pinned me against the door, "How could you think about videogames at a time like this? I'm scared! We need to fix this!"

"Can't do anything without another neuro-transmitter," I shrugged, "You know enough to get started, right? Right now, I feel like cold pizza and videogames." I stopped myself from unlocking the bathroom door. Cold pizza and videogames? What a strange craving.

"What are you talking about?" Alvin raised his voice, "How could you be so irresponsible?" I thought for a second. How could I? But then again, what was the point of having two of us working on the blasted machine? Simon knew what he was doing, what did he need my help for? Simon… He… or I? "Si…" My brother wobbled, slipping off the door handle had I not caught him. "This is it. This is what I felt before…" I was feeling a little faint myself.

"Don't worry, Simon." I said, "Let's get you to bed. You look deathly ill." The chipmunk was as blue as his sweater, and his glasses had fallen off his face, flailing to the ground with a small crackle. His face was caked in sweat. It's a good thing he was so skinny, otherwise he would taken me down with him.

"Alvin," Simon moaned, "It's me. Alvin." With that, he closed his eyes and drooped over my shoulder, pushing me around with his dead weight. I furrowed my brow. He couldn't be Alvin, I was Alvin! I flicked the lock on the door and hoped neither of us slipped as the Chipettes slowly pushed it open.

"What's going on here?" Jeanette asked before looking up and gasping, "What are you two doing?" I was confident in Brittany and Jeanette's strength. Not that they would have a choice. I had every intention of dropping my brother on them. A nice soft landing. I hoped they didn't expect answers or anything before 'helping' me.

"Can you catch him please?" I grunted and without waiting for an answer, tossed my brother down to the girls. Good thing they're quick on their feet. I dropped down and offered my hands in gratitude. "What's up ladies?" I draped Simon's arm over my shoulder like a crutch and started for the recliner. You're a dead munk. Cue Simon's voice. I did nothing wrong! I'm going to kill you. And then the Chipettes are going to kill you.

"What's up?" Brittany twitched, dusting herself off, "What's UP?!" Jeanette held her sister back. Told you.

"What's wrong with Simon?" Jeanette quivered and offered a helping arm. Just hearing her so close was like music to my ears. But it shouldn't be. Simon's voice echoed past the high-pitched ringing and my own thoughts. It's me! I'm Simon. My body… Alvin, tell her it's me! Why could I hear him calling from the mountaintops of my brain when I could so clearly see him? Feel him, comatose as he was? Jeanette brushed her cheek against Simon's.

"Wake up." She said, struggling to get the words out. I inhaled sharply before a familiar paralysis took over, dropping me to the ground. Simon Seville's body lay on top of me shivering.

"Jeanette?" I breathed, jolting upright, and holding the chipette in a tight embrace. She smelled sweet, but subtle. Like a bouquet. I inhaled deeply before spitting out what needed to be said, "Jeanie, we need your help." Panic settled in and I could feel my heart racing through my chest. I wouldn't be surprised if Jeanette could too.

"Simon?" She said in disbelief, looking down at my body, "But you're… Alvin's… What's going on?" Brittany, too stunned to speak to me directly, picked my body off the ground, repeating Alvin's name.

"No time to explain," I rushed, "I don't even know how much time I have. Help Alvin rebuild the neuro-transmitter. You'll need norepinephrine bitartrate to activate it. Steal some from Mr. Crout." I finally understood. I couldn't help clean this mess because there was a chance I wouldn't be here. But Alvin would.

Hearing all this come from Alvin's mouth must have been too much stimulus, even for Jeanette who would naturally understand every word. Her claws dug deep into my arm.

"I'll do what I can while I can," I said, "but promise me you'll help him." Either out of shock or fear, Jeanette nodded but said nothing.

"Best we don't tell Dave about this either," Alvin said, fluttering his eyes, "He already thinks we need therapy."

*SCENE*

"You can't be serious." Alvin shuddered atop Eleanor's bottom bunk as he listened to my crazy hypothesis. The remnants of the neuro-transmitter now lay in a pile in the middle of the room, ready to be put back together again. It was like a terrible game of Jenga. Build a tower, knowing its purpose is to come crashing to the ground. The Chipettes stood on one side of the rubble while Alvin and I sat on the bed. Wouldn't want to have seizure(?) on the hard floor, would we?

"It's the only way I can make sense of it all." I replied, "Here are the facts. Your subconscious leaves my body, correct?" Alvin nodded, "Well, normally that's what we'd want. If it could return to your body. But for some reason my subconscious is still attached to your body, leaving yours with nowhere to go. That's why you see everything happening but can't speak or move. Whenever these seizure-like events occur, my body rejects your subconscious like a white blood cell attacking a disease. But your body on the other hand doesn't realize that I'm the wrong personality." I stopped for a breath, trying to figure out how to carefully explain the next part. "Your body… It's effectively turning me into you. It needs a replacement subconscious and it's using mine. It seems to fight harder when we're close," I quickly realized what I said and rolled off the bed, "It's easier to break through its attempts when I think about Jeanette or when she's around. But I'm worried this is only temporary." I circled the pile.

"Like a super-bug, your body will learn and eventually my personality will numb," I choked, "D-Disappearing into the abyss of your mind forever."

"And what will happen to me?" Alvin gulped. Without looking his way, I beamed at Jeanette.

"There can't be two Alvins," I said, maintaining my composure, "My body will learn to permanently reject you, and with the replacement in your body, you'll be doomed to roam the universe as empty matter. Meanwhile," I finally turned to my brother, my body, "My subconscious will fail to exist. All that will remain is the imposter that your body thinks closely resembles you."

"How is all this even possible?" Brittany broke in. I could tell from the bewilderment on her face she was having a hard time. There was no doubt by now she believed Alvin and I had switched bodies. That didn't seem to bother her. There was a lot at stake, and it was all happening so quickly. Brittany wasn't dumb by any means. This level of denial was normal. I can only imagine what it would feel like to hear I might lose a friend and the munk I loved.

I shrugged, "Crazy things happen in the name of science. It can't possibly be explained." Brittany was not amused with this answer despite its accuracy.

"How long do you think you have?" Jeanette asked, mindlessly sorting through the pile of parts.

"Impossible to say for sure," I sighed, holding myself back from the Chipette. At this point in time, while I knew I was 100% Simon, I wanted nothing more than to hold her. She looked so small even though she was now taller than me. "I might not get another chance." I thought. How I would love to cradle her in my arms and comfort her the way she deserved. This was too much stress for anyone. "Not long I imagine." I continued, "It's already happened a couple of times so the permanent switch could happen soon. I mean, how many strokes does it take before someone passes? How many heart attacks?" Alvin hopped off the bed.

"Guess we should get started on this machine… Again." I laughed. He was right. We should be dedicating every waking second to rebuilding the neuro-transmitter.

"How are we ever going to get this done?" Brittany said, picking up a random piece and trying to match it to the piles Jeanette had created. "It took the two of you two weeks to build it before. What if…" What if the switch happens before then?

"We're just going to have to try," I cut in, "Practice makes perfect. I've built this thing twice before; we can get it done. I know it." I didn't sound very inspiring, "Jeanette, you and I will focus on the electrical mechanics. Alvin, I want you and Brittany to focus on the body. Save time where you can. It doesn't need to be pretty for a science fair anymore." I halted. What if the worst should happen to me or Alvin? "If my personality changes," I added, "Alvin will take over with Jeanette. And if Alvin should be ejected," I locked eyes with Brittany, "Please take care of my body." Truth be told, I wasn't sure what my body would do without a subconscious. Based on what happened before -I conveniently left this part out of my explanation to the others- I believed my body would shut down completely, effectively killing me. There'd be no hope, even if Brittany and Jeanette managed to somehow rebuild the machine.

*SCENE*

The night was long. After Dave tucked us in, Alvin and I snuck up to our room. Luckily, when he didn't have nightmares, Theodore was a heavy sleeper. Eleanor didn't like the idea of having to sacrifice her bed so we could work. And originally, she wanted to help out. We collectively agreed, however that the innocents should be left out so as not to cause a stir. After seeing her sisters pleading looks, Eleanor jumped at the opportunity to cuddle Theo.

And so, we worked. Piece by piece, sheet by sheet of new plastic. Wire by wire. The neuro-transmitter wasn't as recognizable as the first rebuild. This would be the Neuro-transmitter 2.0. Chipmunk edition. Now that it didn't have to fit a standard human, we saved a ton of supplies and time on the build. The more we built, the cheerier everyone looked. Alvin appeared proud that he could assist in building a machine as complicated as this. Not two weeks ago he couldn't even comprehend what it did. Brittany did the best she could, sticking purely to the aesthetic and body of the machine. If she could use a screwdriver and utility knife, she could help. And that's exactly what she did. Jeanette caught on to the initial concept quickly and acted as the perfect partner in crime to build the monstrosity. The more we completed, the happier she sounded, humming a tune as we finished the main breaker on the generator. And I developed something I didn't intend to, lest we fail: hope.

It wasn't until around 2:30 in the morning we decided to take a snack break. Something sugary to keep us going through the night. Jeanette's determination when we first started was commendable, but even at this time, she couldn't help but stifle a yawn every few minutes. Her fur was frayed and her glasses askew and dirty, but to me she was the right hand of God. The most perfect angel.

"I'll stay up here," I volunteered, "We're almost done recalibrating the generator." Looking at the machine, I had to admit – we were making progress. Alvin and Brittany had done wonders with the pods. Brittany had a great talent in making the most out of very little. The pods looked nothing alike, but they were both nearly finished and ready to attach to the generator. Amazing what could be accomplished with twice the munk-power and no distractions. No dates or dances. No school or therapy. Just work.

"I'll stay too." Jeanette piped up. While I was unsure of her motives, it was for the best. A 1 Chipette: 1 Chipmunk ratio, in case something happened. I'm glad I got Jeanette. I predicted an uncomfortable conversation with Brittany the next time we were alone.

Alvin and Brittany left to retrieve snacks and as they did, Alvin winked. Was he suggestion I confess or make a move now? How could someone in my body act so immature? Now wasn't the time! Or was he implying something, getting the chance to be alone with Brittany? I thought about what my body would look like confessing or kissing her. Something about that thought just felt wrong. Brittany was pretty, but I would never be interested in her like that. I turned to the chipette that had stolen my heart. Would I get the chance to ever kiss her? Would I even get the chance to tell her how I feel? Maybe Alvin's insinuation was right. Jeanette looked up from her work, catching me off guard as I stared at her.

"Everything okay?" She asked, blushing. She was cute when she blushed. I thought I'd have a problem with her blushing at something 'Alvin' did or said, but not that she knew it was me, I was surprisingly relieved. What I wouldn't do to go back in time and redo the past fortnight. She deserved a dance with the chipmunk of her choice. She deserved not to have her feelings toyed with out of my own ideals of what our relationship should be.

"It will be." I said, vowing to make things right with her. The second the threat of my eminent existence was gone, I was going to ask her out dancing. I'd tell her how from the moment we met I thought she was the most beautiful, most fascinating, most precious part of my life. Screw the neuro-transmitter or any other future scientific endeavors I might make. I'd give it all up if it meant I never hurt Jeanette again.

Jeanette cleared her throat, "Um, why do you think… Never mind." She stepped back from the generator and stretched. Her long limbs reached high up like a cherry blossom.

"Continue." I said, forcing a smile. This was the first time she's talked to me without a negative intonation for a while.

"Oh, I was just wondering," She stammered, "Why do you think I fit in to your transition back into yourself." I wish I could tell her the truth. The one I knew deep down in my heart. But now that the opportunity to confess presented itself I was anxious.

"Well," I started and, like a child, made it blatantly clear I was incapable of looking directly at her, "When I think of you, everything feels calm, you know? The ringing in my head," The ringing, "Shuts up and all I hear is your voice." The ringing resonated, like a loud tinnitus, "And I think of your eyes…" I grinned, much like I thought Alvin would, "I think of getting lost in the sea of flowers they are." I looked into that deep purple ocean now, looking at Alvin's reflection, disappearing only when Jeanette blinked. "And I think to myself 'I want to forever be in a world with this amazing serenity."

Jeanette smiled, her cheeks ear to ear. How I loved seeing her smile. I wish I could capture that smile in a photograph or sculpture. Not that either would do her justice. Now that I thought about it, we didn't have many pictures together, just her and I.

"You really feel that way?" She asked.

"Unquestionably." I said. I could feel my cheeks turn red. My head was cloudy too. The headache: painful. Maybe I was just overtired or hungry. Was this what flirting felt like? I should have gone with Brittany to get snacks! Why didn't I? "Didn't she go with someone? Simon?" NO! I jumped and Jeanette's smile faded.

"S-Simon?" She sounded like the victim in a horror movie, hopelessly calling out to the serial killer. Not that I would know because Dave never let us watch those movies.

"Yeah…" I whispered. Look at her! I jumped again. Why could I hear Simon screaming at me? She can save you! "He's probably down with-" My eyes widened, and my heart ached, as if shot by cupid's arrow.

I threw myself at Jeanette, knowing I had a limited window. Before she could react, I held her tight in my arms, lips pressed against hers in a kiss. She squeaked, letting out a sharp breath through her nose. Her panicked eyes closed, and she sank into me, accepting that this was more than just a kiss. No, she knew this was life or death.