“
Megan was over at the Morgan brothers’ house, having a casual dinner with Drew and his brother, Alan. It was casual in the sense that there were only three courses and no ice sculpture.
When Alan left the room to get dessert, Megan said, “If you don’t give me whatever’s in your pocket, I’m going to reach in there and grab it myself.”
He got a devilish grin and threw his hands in the air. “Help yourself!”
She reached in and found a ring. Not an engagement ring but a ring with a large stone in the middle. A cheap-looking stone.
Megan frowned. “Is this plastic?”
“It’s a mood ring,” he said. “I bought it at a carnival when I was a kid. I wore it to school once because I thought it was cool. I got my first black eye that day.”
“You got bullied?”
“Not exactly. The guy who punched me once got two right back.”
She handed the ring back. “You can wear it now, if you want. You’re an adult. Nobody’s going to beat you up.” She made a fist and punched her palm. “Not if they don’t want me to tag in and finish the match.”
He put the ring back in his pocket. “Never mind,” he said.
She put her hand in his pocket and grabbed the ring back. “Don’t tell me to never mind. Why do you have this? Were you going to give it to me?”
“I thought it would be funny,” he said. “You’re reading all those books Feather recommended, and you’re doing that thing where you name your emotions. I thought it would be funny if you had a mood ring to help you with that.”
She tried on the ring. The only finger it fit was her ring finger, so she left it there. “I like it,” she said. “It’s not very funny, though. It’s actually kind of…” She was at a loss for words. It had been happening a lot lately. Coming up with words to describe feelings was much harder than being crass or sarcastic.
“Romantic,” Drew said.
“Yeah. I guess you’re right. It’s romantic.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Plus, now I know your ring size,” he said.
They both looked down at her hand.
She looked away.
“For the future,” he said. “Relax. I don’t mean right now.”
She looked at the ring again. It was changing colors.
“It’s working,” she said.
“It’s a heat-sensitive compound,” he said. “It doesn’t really tell you someone’s mood, just how warm their fingers are.”
“But finger temperature means a lot,” she said. “I’ve been reading about the nervous system, and how everything works together in all these different feedback loops. When someone’s stressed, their hands get cold. Or when their hands get cold for some other reason, they might feel stressed and make up a story about why they feel that way. People make up a lot of stories to explain how they feel because it’s so confusing to not know, and sometimes we’d rather think it’s because of something bad than not know at all.”
He looked down at the ring, which was still changing colors. “I had no idea.”
“I’ll have to come into your clinic and give you some tips for putting your patients more at ease.”
“You can’t do that,” he said. “It would really cut down on the screaming, which I have grown to love.” He gave her his mad scientist cackle.
“You are so weird.” She kissed him again.
”
”