Larry fished the tea bag from his mug and tossed it in the trash. He blew gently on it, carrying it from the kitchen into his living room, where all of his papers were fanned out. He was hoping for a breakthrough tonight. Or at least a break from the haunting memory of that poor girl's frozen body.

He sat down and looked over his work, sipping his tea. The doorbell rang. Larry put down his mug and went to answer the door.

"Amita!" he exclaimed, staring at the petite brunette on the other side of the door. "Is something wrong with the tests I asked you to grade?"

"No," she laughed, pushing past him to enter the house. "This is more of a social visit."

"Oh," he said, puzzled. "Right. So the tests are okay?"

She placed her hand on his chest. "They're perfect," she said, leaning in close.

"Do I have something on my shirt?" he said, checking where she had been touching.

She ignored the question and moved over to the couch and sat down. She was patting the seat next to her, but he chose a nearby chair instead. "Did you want some tea?" he asked.

She was still smiling for some reason. Larry was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "You know," she said, "I sat in on your nuclear physics lecture today."

"Yeah, I saw you. What were you..."

She slid closer to him, leaning towards his chair. "You are a wonderful speaker."

"Well, I do try to..."

She wasn't listening. "You're so forceful. So manly."

"Manly?" Larry thought about the word. Although, physiologically speaking, he was, most certainly, a man. But the term "manly" had always implied an aptitude for sports and fisticuffs he had never possessed.

She slid a bit closer and patted the seat next to her again. Larry didn't understand why she wanted him to sit so close to her. It was certainly closer than social norms dictated.

"Yes," she said, purring, "manly. It was almost sexy. You know so much about nuclear reactors and such."

"Sexy?" Larry asked, his voice breaking a bit. She was rubbing her hand back and forth on the cushion. Against all better judgement, Larry obliged her by occupying the seat her kept indicating.

"Definitely sexy," she answered. "You could do anything you want with that brain of yours." She leaned very close now, brushing the hair back from his forehead. It was a bit unnerving but it was also a very nice feeling. Her hands were so soft. "I'll bet you could cure cancer."

Larry felt himself flush and chuckled. "Well, I don't know. Maybe..."

"Or discover a new dimension."

"That's physically impossible..."

"Or take control of a nuclear reactor."

Larry stopped for moment. "Oh, sure. I could do that. But the consequences would be..."

She squeezed his leg hard. Larry jumped at the sensation. "Who cares about consequences? We're talking theoretically."

"Well, theoretically, sure..."

She pressed herself against him. Larry leaned back reflexively, his heart thundering in his ears. What was she doing? She placed her hands on either side of his face.

"Tell me how to do it. Tell me and I'm yours. I want you. I need you."

Larry leaned farther and farther back, trying to escape her embrace. He found himself sliding down the couch towards the floor. But she was still coming closer and closer.

"Well, how is a complicated question.." he stammered.

"Tell me!" she hissed and pressed her lips firmly against his.

Larry grabbed her arms and pushed her away. He overpowered her slight frame easily. He shoved her back onto the couch and leapt to his feet. "What on earth is the matter with you, Amita? I think you need to leave." He pointed angrily at the door.

Wait, a small voice in the back of his head piped up, are you asking a beautiful woman to leave because she kissed you? Larry decided to ignore that voice.

Amita stood and smoothed out her clothes. "Fine," she said crossly. "I'm going. But the offer's always open if you change your mind." She swept past him and out the door.

You're an idiot, the voice piped up again.

Oh, shut up, Larry thought. It was awfully annoying how those voices were always right.

--

Larry sat in his car, staring at the front door to Charles' house. Why should he feel guilty? He certainly hadn't done anything wrong. If a woman was so overcome by his lectures that she became libidinous, was that really his fault? Even if the woman was one in whom his friend had more than a passing interest? So why did he feel so ashamed of himself? She had kissed him, not the other way around.

Larry saw Alan come to the window, peek out at him, and then disappear. It was not the first time since he had arrived. It was time to get out of the car.

He exited his car and walked determinedly towards the front door. Alan opened it before he could even knock. "Larry! What were you doing out there?"

"Oh, just, you know," Larry stumbled. "I was just thinking about things. Universes and alternate dimensions and things like that."

"Sure," Alan replied, letting him in. "I think about that stuff all the time. Charlie's in the garage working on… something."

"Something for Don?" Larry asked. He felt himself stalling having to face Charles.

Alan shrugged. "I don't think so. Maybe. Who knows." He sat down in front of the TV and picked up a bowl of popcorn. "You can go on back there, unless you'd rather watch some TV with me."

"No, no, I'm going."

Charles was at the blackboard writing out an equation. Larry recognized it right away. They were the calculations he had promised him. Somehow the knowledge that Charles was doing something for him made this even harder.

"Hey, Larry," Charles said, looking up from his work for a moment. "I'll probably have these done in the next couple of days."

Larry nodded. "Sure, sure. Just take your time. Listen, I had a strange experience tonight."

Charles smiled as he worked at the blackboard. "Another dream where you're falling through time and space?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I… well… Amita came over."

Charles continued working. He finally looked at Larry. "And?"

"And she wanted to talk… to me."

"Okay?"

Larry cleared his throat. "She was asking about nuclear reactors and curing cancer and, um, all sorts of things." He waited for the wave of understanding to wash across Charles' face, but none did.

Charles frowned. "Larry, what are you talking about?"

"Amita. She came over. And she kissed me."

Charles just stared. "What? Who kissed you?"

"Amita. Amita kissed me."

"Amita kissed you?" Charles said, disbelieving. Larry nodded nervously. "Like on the cheek or…?"

"No, on the mouth."

"Amita kissed you on the mouth? No offense Larry, but I find that hard to believe." Charles' eyes flashed with something that Larry hadn't really seen before. It wasn't the righteous indignation of the brilliant. It was rage, pure and simple. He had stopped writing now and was staring at Larry. Larry could tell he was trying to hide it, but the rage shown through nonetheless.

"Well, I assure you, it happened. She did it completely of her own volition. I did not invite her advances."

"You expect me to believe that someone as beautiful and intelligent as Amita decided to throw herself at you?" Charles said, emphasizing that he obviously felt that Larry had no business whatsoever romantically entangled with the likes of her.

"Well, actually, yes," Larry stammered, rubbing his forehead. Charles just stared at him. "She wanted to know how to take control of a nuclear reactor, and then she started kissing me, and then I threw her out."

"You know, Larry," Charles said, violently throwing his chalk into the tray, "what really makes me mad is that you knew how I felt about her and you went after her anyway. You have dozens of new freshman girls in your class every semester. Couldn't you play your little sick games with one of them?"

"Now, wait a second," Larry said, putting up a hand to stop Charles' rant, "I've never laid a finger on one of my students, and you know that. You can't possibly think…"

"Yeah," Charles spat, "we'll see what Amita would say about that. If she files a complaint about you, you can bet I'll be on her side."

Larry was stunned. He'd never heard anything like this come out of Charles' mouth. "Are you joking?"

"No, I'm not. I can't believe you came all the way over here just to brag to me about your little conquest."

"Conquest? Nothing happened! She kissed me and I threw her out!"

Charles turned away from Larry. "Well, I'll just get Amita's side of the story, if you don't mind."

Larry felt like he had somehow traveled into a parallel dimension where everything was upside down. Amita was calling him sexy and telling him she needed him. Charles was calling him some sort of lecherous old man hitting on poor defenseless women (although, as far as Larry could tell, Amita was anything but the virginal waif that Charles imagined her to be). It all felt like a horrible nightmare and he just couldn't wake up.

"I think you should leave," Charles said quietly, not looking at Larry.

"Yes, I think that's probably best." Larry turned and left through the side door so that he wouldn't have to face Alan again.

--

Charlie waited until he heard Larry's car pull away before returning to the house. His head was spinning. Everything was out of place. He couldn't imagine Larry hitting on a woman, any woman, especially Amita. Then again, Larry was a heterosexual male, and had certainly had his share of partners, at least for a physicist, and Amita was an attractive available female.

But why had he come to tell Charlie? If he had tried unsuccessfully to seduce Amita, why bother talking about it? Was he supposed to forgive Larry for trying to steal the woman he had such deep feelings for? And, on a related topic, when exactly had his own feelings for Amita gotten to a point where he was acting like a jealous boyfriend?

He came into the living room where his father was watching the evening news. "Did Larry leave already?" he asked.

"Yeah," Charlie said quietly, not really wanting to engage in a conversation right at that moment.

"Were the two of you arguing?"

"Yeah, dad, we were arguing." Charlie was digging through his backpack for his set of keys.

"About what?"

"Is this really any of your business?" he snapped, and then instantly regretted it. His father looked at him from his chair, eyebrows raised. "I don't know. Something about Amita asking him how to take over a nuclear reactor and… I don't know. He wasn't making any sense."

Alan listened intently, although Charlie couldn't imagine he was making heads or tails out of what he was saying. He knew he was babbling. "Nuclear reactor, huh? That's what Don was working on for Larry, right? Stolen plans for a nuclear reactor?"

Charlie found his keys in his backpack and stuffed them in his pockets. "That doesn't have anything to do with this," he shot back. "Listen, I need to borrow the car, okay? I need to go out for a little while."

"Your permit doesn't allow you to drive alone," his father was saying, but Charlie was halfway out the door already. "Charlie! Where are you going? Can I drive you? Are you alright?" His father was yelling after him from the doorway as Charlie moved quickly towards the car.

He got in and started it up. It had been a long time since he had driven on his own, but it was after 9 PM, traffic should be light, and sometimes you just had to do what you had to do. Right now he had to talk to Amita face to face. And he needed to be behind the wheel of a car by himself. He needed to be a man and deal with all of this head on. If it meant telling Amita, once and for all, how he felt about her, then that's what he would have to do. Then there was Larry. Charlie backed the car out of the driveway and pulled out onto the road. He could see his father standing in the doorway helplessly. He'd have to figure out what to do about Larry later on.

All of the parking in front of Amita's apartment building was parallel only. There was no way he was even going to attempt parallel parking. He drove down the block until he found a Burger King and parked there, hoping he wouldn't end up with a ticket, and jogged back to her place.

He had been here before, several times when she had been his research assistant. There had been long nights over cold Chinese food, his bike leaning against the wall in the living room, pouring over data and equations for his various projects, or her thesis. But this was the first time he had come over uninvited.

He headed up the elevator to her floor and found her apartment door. He knocked and waited. There was no sound from inside and there was no light spilling out under the door. He knocked again, louder, just in case she was sleeping, but again there was nothing.

Feeling foolish, Charlie fished his cell phone out of his pocket. She was probably out. What was he thinking, coming over here like this? He dialed her number. The phone at his ear was ringing, but there was also a ringing coming from inside the apartment. Charlie hung up and tried again, this time pressing his ear to the door. He could hear more ringing. Wherever she was, her cell phone was here inside.

Charlie found his keys in his pocket. Once, years ago, Amita had locked herself out of her apartment and had to pay $75 for a locksmith. The next day she had a spare key made and gave it to Charlie just in case. He stared at it on his ring. Using it would be a huge violation of trust. If he opened this door right now, he would probably lose any chance with Amita he might have. He would lose her trust, her friendship, everything. It would be like committing emotional suicide.

Charlie slid the key in the lock and turned. The lock opened easily. He went inside. The apartment had a musty, dank smell. "Hello?" he called out. No one answered.

Charlie flipped on the light. If anyone was home, they would most certainly be awake now. He moved around the apartment, checking the bathroom and the bedroom. They were empty. There was a lot of dust, more than he remembered seeing on any of his previous visits.

He went into the kitchen. Also empty. There was a foul smell coming from the fridge. Charlie opened it. There was a box of Indian food that was several weeks past its peak, a milk jug that long since expired, some old cottage cheese, and vegetables that were turning soft. Charlie gagged and quickly closed the door.

That wasn't Amita's fridge. Amita's fridge always had fresh vegetables she would buy at the farmer's market. His father's words were rattling around in his brain. Larry had plans to a nuclear reactor stolen from his desk. And now Amita was talking about nuclear reactors, which wasn't really related to her thesis at all. Charlie shook his head. Of course she was talking about it. She was the TA for that class. She was probably talking about the exams she had to grade or something. And maybe she was staying at a friend's house for a few days.

Charlie left the apartment determined to head straight home; enough foolishness for one night. He tried desperately to forget about all of the strange coincidences and odd occurrences. But it was like a math problem. Charlie believed that every problem contained its own solution. All of the pieces were swirling around in his head. The more he tried to ignore them, the more they would try to fit themselves together. He knew he would never sleep until he knew what was going on.