Page 38 of Conner's Luna

He nods but his smile falls. "I'm the same way," he says, "but this is an important project and I wanted your input. You're a very bright young lady and I think you'll be perfect for this."

I thank him and turn back to my computer. Using the code and password on the file, I begin going through the first DNA sequence. It doesn't take long to realize that there is only one other flag color than pink; black. It must be Dr. Honekier's color. Mark is green, and the other two scientists I work with are blue and yellow.

I finish up the first code file over the next few hours. There are several DNA sequences that got flagged. A pattern is forming quickly. Whoever was tested for this project is showing up in repetitive DNA codes. It's so repetitive that after I finish the file I've figured out that I'm working with four different people's DNA. One of them has some sort of unique genetics and I assume the other three are controls.

I only have an hour left when I start on the second code file, but the same pattern starts to emerge quite quickly. I have to slow myself down so that I don't skip ahead to the sequences that I know will become flagged.

I'm frowning when I leave. For quality control purposes, the DNA should be less predictable. It's too easy to start getting lazy and make a mistake by missing something important. In fact, it seems that Dr. Honekier himself made several errors. There are quite a few more pink flags than black in the first file. That makes me uneasy; I don't want to step on Dr. Honekier's toes.

Well, I only have one more file to go through for Dr. Honekier's project, then it's back to Mark's work. I should be able to finish it up on Wednesday.

The drive back home is peaceful until I reach the stretch of road where I saw the wolf last night. Unconsciously my foot eases up on the gas and the car slows down.

Making a decision, I pull over to the side of the road and put my hazards on. I get out of the car and look around. The road where the wolf appeared is a fair distance from any residential homes; about three blocks. In the opposite direction, it's a couple of miles away from campus. This small stretch of road is remote, the woods surrounding both sides of the street.

If I were a wolf I guess this would be the place to run. I look on the ground, at the grass and the first little bit of the forest floor. There are no signs of the wolf. No large footprints, the ground has been frozen for weeks. Some of the twigs and leaves are broken and crushed, but to my untrained eye, I can't tell if it's normal or not.

It's quiet in the woods. I don't feel any sense of a menacing presence and the little hairs on my arms aren't electrified. It smells like crisp winter air and dying foliage. There's nothing here to be afraid of.

I get back in the car and head home to get ready for a quiet Saturday night.

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11 - One Warm Cookie (OK, Two)

Bailey

"OK, I'll think about it. It sounds great. Of course, sure." I hang up with my friend from Durham, Jared, and slip my phone back into my purse.

"Bailey Washington, how're things?" Braxton leans against the wall just next to our classroom door with a grin.

"Hi, Brax. I'm good. How are you?" I return his greeting with a real smile. He's a quiet boy in the quartet of my rebels. Well, notmyrebels, obviously. Conner has sent me a grand total of two texts over the last six days. It hurts a little, but I chalk up most of my hurt to the loneliness I feel in this place. I'm not the type of girl who falls in with bad boys.

Even if they're objectively hot. Just yesterday I heard that Conner had been seen on a motorcycle with a group of other biker-types, driving around campus and making girls everywhere swoon. 'Hot', is the moniker given by the girls I overheard. I'm not sure which biker they were describing. Any of them, all of them?Hot.

"Who were you talking to?" Braxton asks while leisurely straightening up. Girls and guys eye him from every angle, giving me the impression that he and I are standing in a little, isolated bubble. Conner is more intimidating, but Braxton is... well... more than objectively handsome.Hotdoesn't do him justice. He's beautiful.

"My friend from home, Jared," I reply softly as we file into the classroom and claim our lab table.

"Home?" Braxton says with a forced smile.

"Durham," I explain.

Braxton straightens up and pins me with a look that is slightly more intense than usual.

"Yeah. I have some friends going to the Caribbean for spring break. Haiti. I wasn't thinking about going. It would be a stretch to get away, but it would look good on job applications and it's a great cause."

"Oh yeah?" he chokes out, "what cause?"

"Habitat for Humanity."

"Sounds a little dangerous," he says casually.

"Not really," I say. "I need something else. I'm really nervous about not having anything other than my internship."

"Why?"

"My scholarship. Dean Sancieo told me a few weeks ago that if I don't have more extracurriculars then my scholarship could be in jeopardy." I say in as soft a voice as I can.

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