Entry 11

John came to check up on me at lunch as he promised. I was chatting with my friends when he slipped into the seat beside mine. He studied me as if looking for signs of weakness and fatigue while he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” I responded, annoyed by my brother’s overprotective attitude. Then I remembered my delusion and how John had tried to protect me from the anthropologist. I remembered how the anthropologist had turned him off somehow and how strange that had been. My brother did his best to protect me, and I should not be annoyed when he did. “I honestly feel healthy, John.”

“Have you been drinking enough?” he asked, examining the Nalgene. It was half empty. “You should be drinking more.”

“I feel fine,” I responded. “I’m not thirsty. If I drink anymore then I’ll have to go to the bathroom ten minutes into class, and you know how stingy teachers are with hall passes.” John nodded, because he knew that teachers rarely handed out hall passes. Most of them said you should either go before or after class, not considering that in order to get to their class I had to run across campus and barely had time to slip in before the bell. When was there time to go to the bathroom?

John looked past me and to my friends, causing them all to sigh and flutter their eye lashes. I had never met a girl that John could not charm with his smile. All of my friends were in love with him. It was quite ridiculous.

“Ladies,” John said, his face very serious. His seriousness caused them all to hang on his every word. “I trust you will look after my sister during her classes so that she will not fall ill again.”

“Of course, John,” one of my more outspoken friends responded. “We would never want anything to happen to our Carlee.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” John agreed, bring his gaze back to me. He smiled at me mischievously when he saw me roll his eyes. I could not believe he was going over my head and to my friends. It was completely unnecessary. I felt fine. I could not remember being so dreadfully sick, and I did not feel sick. It was hard to deal with everyone’s overprotective behavior when I did not remember a reason to be protected.

“You ladies have a good lunch,” John said, turning a charming smile towards them. He then stood and ruffled my hair, ignoring the angry glance I shot him as he strolled confidently away. I smoothed my hair and turned back to my friends, who were all staring after him with moony expression.

“You’re brother is wonderful,” one of the girls said dreamily. “I wish he was my brother.”

“No, you don’t,” I responded. “Then you could not be in love with him, because he would be your brother.”

“True,” the girl said. “Then I guess I’m lucky he’s your brother and not mine. He’s just your brother. I can marry him one day.”

“Do people marry androids?” I asked to no one in particular. Her thought had simply made me wonder if an android could fall in love. It made me wonder if any of John’s feelings were real or if they were simply programmed into him. Could he be programmed to fall in love with a girl and would it be strange if she loved him back since he was an android?

“Androids?” another of my friends asked. “Carlee, why are you talking about androids?” My friends exchanged glances, thinking I must be once again delusional.

“No reason,” I answered, pushing what I remembered – what everyone said were my delusions – aside. John was not an android. He had told me he was flesh and blood. Though everything here felt wrong, it simply could not be. This life was real. My delusions were not.