A few days later, I hadn't known that working here would be a lesson in seeing how long I could go without blinking.

Once we had sequenced the COVID-19 RNA from the Toyko samples, we dumped it into petri dishes then simply watched them. The lab had a video monitor focused on twenty five petri dishes, so we didn't have to solely stare into microscopes all day. That said, the task was simultaneously fascinating and hideously boring.  I couldn't shake an internal feeling like we hadn't taken the right approach.

"Shift change." Adam's voice called out to me as he appeared in the lab door. "Any luck with these samples?"

"COVID-19 still alive." I glanced at the monitoring screen. It was still a quite beautiful virus, on a molecular level at least. I could admit that much.

"Shit..." The screen of petri dishes reflected in his glasses. "It's spreading out there, you know. One thing if it's in China but it's getting closer. Scary stuff."

"Good luck Adam." I glanced at the clock and noticed that the time was four pm. I scooped up my books on my desk, stuffed them into my backpack, and headed out.

Most often it's good to have a good memory, but sometimes it's not. Adam's words "It's spreading out there," repeated in my brain as I stood outside and looked around the bus.

The ride home was not as crowded as in the mornings, but at this point hundreds of people had probably ridden this exact bus. My eyes shifted to the streams of people on the sidewalks, pushing children in strollers, opening store front doors, sitting across from each other at pubs, shaking hands.

It would take only one.

"Stop thirty-seven, Regents Park." At the announcement, I stood up and exited the bus, went into my apartment building, and headed up the stairs. My flat was a tiny and fairly nondescript box of an apartment, and I dropped my bag and washed my hands upon entry. The back of my neck was sore from how I'd stared up at the petri dish screens.

I need a run.

The early evening air felt wonderful as it filtered through my lungs as my feet pounded against the pavement. They followed my boring yet predictable path I always used more for being a creature of habit to ensure I got in at least a three mile run every time.

Down the street, three blocks over, loop through Regent's park, then reverse.

It was a pleasant run, something I enjoyed doing by myself every day.

Well, until today. After today my daily runs became much more enjoyable.

"Maggie!" A familiar sounding male voice called out to me. I stopped running and glanced around.

"Over here love!" My eyes looked up and saw Noah ran towards me, dressed in a long sleeved t-shirt and athletic pants. He looked sweaty and his hair was tousled across his forehead. I actually found this version of him quite a bit more attractive, more natural than when I'd seen him at the pub a few nights ago.

Wait, did I say attractive?

"Hi." I pulled the headphones out of my ears and smiled up at him.

Once he reached me, I noticed that he was a few inches, probably five and three-eights, taller than me. His breath came in out warm, quick pants and sweat dotted his hairline, but his blue eyes sparkled at me. Oddly, the same sense of comfort I'd felt in the pub came into me.

"Hi yourself, going for a run?" He glanced down at my obvious running attire.

"Yup. Was just leaving."

"Mind if I join you? That is, before it gets dark and I can't see anymore," he teased with a wink.

"Umm, sure."

Silently, we started running in the direction I'd headed. With my head tipped down, I watched his stride for a few moments, then tried to match mine with it. Catching his stride was a bit difficult at first, as his legs were longer than mine. But by the time we reached the end of the first block, he'd shortened his stride and I widened mine so we were in sync.

"Fancy running into you." He started.

Running?

My lips twitched as I smiled again.

"There you go again, that smile." His mouth opened slightly and he laughed. "It's like you're the only one in the world who knows something. What is it this time?"

"It's corny." I felt my cheeks turn a little warmer than they would from just the running. "Just you saying 'running into me'... as we're jogging."

Noah lifted his head back and laughed loudly. My eyes immediately snapped upwards and I looked at him curiously.

Why was he so happy?

I hadn't intentionally told a joke. And before him, I couldn't have named one person I'd met that would have described me as funny. And I remembered everyone of them.

"So are you going to talk to me this time?" He asked.

"Meaning?"

"You walked out on me at the pub love, then Amy asked for my number for you..." I knew where this was going to go. "...But you didn't call."

"You wanted me to call?" My cheeks puffed out a quick breath.

"Generally that's why someone gives out a number." He laughed again. "You're quite an interesting enigma."

"Amy was just being nice. This is my first week."

"How's it going then? Work?" I appreciated how he hadn't pressed me further on why I didn't call.

I'd wanted to call him, and held that bar napkin in my hand so many times, I would've thought I'd used it to wipe my hands clean after eating. The numbers were memorized after one glance, But every time my fingers went to my phone, my mind went absolutely blank. So hence, I hadn't called.

I also appreciated how he hadn't pressed me further on why I didn't have any friends. I supposed Will and his world of grumpiness counted the most, but honestly he most likely only associated with me since I helped him with microbiology.

"I can't tell if they're either super impressed with me, or intimidated." I surprised myself with my candor. Most often words seemed to get choked up in my throat, lingered in my brain, but this time talking to Noah felt easier. The sense of calmness that returned as soon as I'd seen him hadn't left me, which made him intriguing to me, to say the least.

"I'm not allowed to talk about what we're working on but it's stressful. It's really important that we solve this problem. But I don't think the team is approaching the problem correctly."

"Wow, Maggie." He exhaled deeply. "That's the most words I've heard you speak."

I fell into an awkward silence, but enjoyed the synchronization of our pace together. The constant speed and movement of our bodies next to each other comforted me, but his words left me unsure of how to respond to them. I still navigated my position on the team and for the most part, conducted Amy, Adam, and Tucker's work and not my own.

"I meant that as a good thing." A warm touch was placed on my shoulder as he patted it gently.

"Sorry, I'm just quiet with people I don't know." Hundreds of past experiences flooded out of my memory. There was a reason I'd been home schooled, not just to help me learn on my own curve but allow my focus to be on academics without the social anxiety distractions.

I had a particularly hard time with self-disappointment induced panic attacks. The earliest occurrence that I could remember was when I was three. After I nearly finished a five hundred piece puzzle and one piece was missing, I threw myself into the coffee table, dislocated my shoulder, then didn't come out of my room for four days. Instances such as those led me to be an only child.

The most recent episode was in Dr. McKenna's office. I'd gone back to my desk, reworked the problem, and found he'd had a typo.

"Another reason to call someone." Noah's words snapped me out of my thoughts. "I've heard it's one way to get to know them."

"I'm sorry, okay?" I glanced at him, as his breathing pattern had become a little louder and slightly erratic. "I'm... not good with social stuff."

"I hadn't noticed," he joked, then nudged my arm with his elbow. "I get it. You're in another country, don't know anyone, completely understandable. I'd be weirded out too if I were in your shoes."

"...Thanks." My mind felt a bit blurry, as if his casual physical contact had sent my brain whirling.

That's the second time he's touched me. Why is he touching me? Am I supposed to touch him back?

"So do you know what they should be doing? Your coworkers." He asked.

I thought about it in silence for a few moments. More comfortable thoughts, processes and equations, sorted through my brain. I mentally stepped out of Amy, Adam, and Tucker's work, and squinted my eyes as if I saw what they hadn't. Then something flashed in my brain.

Puzzles.

I simply nodded in response to his question. Realizing that his gaze was on the ground in front of us and he couldn't hear my nod, I added, "I think so."

"Well, then do it love." His words were the most simple answer, but he was right.

At that, I made a decision right then to try and warm up a bit more. I owed him that much at least and, for some reason, he seemed to enjoy our one-sided conversations.

"So you're a musician?" I asked.

"Hardly," he said with a hearty laugh. 

"You're not terrible." I admired his ability to put himself out there, in front of a crowd of people, and perform.

My mind flashed me an image of how much ease he'd appeared to have, half sitting on the black stool and half leaning against it.

How did he know it wouldn't have fallen over?

His fingers elegantly strummed over the guitar strings as if it was second nature, or an extension of his body.

Why am I thinking about his body?

"Not terrible." He paused as if he chewed on the words, then his mouth quirked up into a smile. "I do it more a hobby, it's not my sustainable paying job."

"Which is?"

"Just stocking a supermarket. And yes, it's as dry as it sounds."

"A... respectable job." His smile turned into a slight laugh at my choice of words.

Honestly, I probably wouldn't have cared if he said he swept up elephant dung at the zoo if it made him laugh. His laugh had quickly become one of my favorite sounds. And every laugh counteracted my disbelief that he did, in fact, like talking with me. And part of me liked that in return, which was an confusing but oddly comforting thought.

"It's a short-term thing. Just until I'm done with school."

My eyes perked up at the word 'school'. "Where do you go?"

"UCL. I only go part-time though, with work. So at this point I'll be done in six years."

"I go to UCL." I smiled. "Well, I was in the PhD program."

"Past tense..." His eyes glanced downward at me, then righted themselves as we came closer to an intersection. "Did you quit?"

"No." I smiled in amusement at that idea, quitting was extremely difficult for me. "I got transferred onto this research project. They said I could get this quarter's credit like an internship. It's the same thing I'd do my dissertation on, so works out."

"What's that?"

"What's what?"

"Your dissertation?"

"It's a big paper -"

"I know what one is," he laughed as we paused and waited for the intersection light to change, then started running once our feet hit the crosswalk. "What's the topic?"

"Oh... infectious diseases."

"That's incredibly vague. It's not on the peanuts, is it Maggie?"

I glanced upwards at him after he said my name. Despite his heavy panting, his voice sounded quite sweet and reinforced this calming effect on me. I had thought about this quite a bit during our run, perhaps it was from the ease at which he spoke. Phonetically and tone-wise, his voice was also quite charming. I paused for a few moments, listened to how the synchronized pounding sound of our feet was now muted softly from the grass in Regent's park.

"Umm..." My eyes scanned over the park view and noted how the tall trees casting early evening shadows over everything. "It's on killing deadly viruses. Is that better?"

"Seriously?" His voice sounded a mix of surprise and awe.

"Yeah."

"That's freaking awesome."

"Really?" His reaction surprised me.

"Yeah, you're a modern day hero. Saving lives. Fighting zombies. How old are you?"

Why does everyone ask me that? For the record, I have also yet to come across any documented cases of zombies in anything I've read.

Nonetheless, I answered honestly, "Nineteen."

"Even more impressive, love. I'm twenty. My major is mathematics."

My mind clicked and I said, "Explains why you play guitar." He looked down at me with curiosity in his eyes, so I took that as an invitation to keep talking. "Music is mathematical. There's a finite number of notes, chords, possibilities. It's a large number but even a computer can make music."

He stopped short in his stride and stared at me for a second. At the abrupt movement, I stopped running as well. My eyes widened and a nervous hitch pinched in my chest.

Did I insult him?

The idea felt strangely disconcerting for me. His mouth opened wide, then beautiful waves of loud laughter fell out. My head cocked sideways as I looked at him curiously, patiently waiting for his laughs to subside. They didn't.

"What? So is cooking." He laughed harder, and now bent over and clutched his sides with his palms.

Why is he laughing?

"It's true, finite combination of ingredients."

"Maggie," he said between gasps. "You are the most interesting girl. Never in a million years would I expect anyone to say that."

"Am I wrong?" I looked at him quizzically and placed my hands on my hips.

"There's probably a thousand bleeding heart musicians and millions of mothers that would disagree with those sentiments." His laughs slowed down to a chuckle level. "I don't think a robot's programmed music would be very pleasing to hear."

"Am I wrong?" Irritation slipped into my voice.

"In my case, you're absolutely wrong." My eyes widened as I stared at him.

I'm not wrong. I'm never wrong. He's wrong.

"Can't comment on the cooking though, but I could ask my mum if you'd like." My mind paused at the thought. Fortunately he continued, "Because she is a fantastic cook. But the guitar, I started playing it when I was sixteen... erm, to impress girls."

"Oh." My hands immediately dropped from my hips, as suddenly I felt very silly. The exchange was a sobering reminder that his mind didn't function like mine. Most people's didn't, so I couldn't hold that against him. But suddenly the idea of male teenage hormones being a motivational factor to do anything slightly soured my impression of Noah.

"I can't say it worked much in my favor, if that makes you feel any better."

It does.

I didn't understand the first thought that went through my head, or know how to respond, so I didn't. We resumed our run, so I just listened as our feet pounded softly on the grass, as we'd reached the end of the park.

Our run is concluding soon.

A part of me felt disappointed in that realization.

"Go back a minute." He interrupted my thoughts. "I'm twenty, in third year. How are you nineteen, working on a PhD already?"

"It's not a competition..." My lower lip rolled under my teeth briefly.

"Okay, thanks love."

"...Because you wouldn't win." Again, this was another comment I didn't intend as a joke, but for some reason he found hilarious.

"You're funny, I like you Maggie." I came to an abrupt stop at his words. He noticed, and added, "Sorry, didn't mean to be so forward."

"No, you're fine." I panted, then pointed at the building we were standing outside. "This is my stop."

"Here? You don't live on campus?" He glanced up the building's brick facade. As I nodded, I looked at him quizzically since his breathing had developed a rasp.

"Sorry, asthma." He brought a hand to his chest and bent over slightly. I watched as his back rose and fell, the muscles in the back of his neck twitched and relaxed. My mind clicked back to his initial sweaty appearance from the pub.

"How far did you run before you saw me?"

His bright blue eyes lifted to me. "Four miles," he admitted with a gasp.

"You ran seven miles, with asthma?"

"Yeah, I'm going to need a walk home of shame home though," he admitted with a sheepish look. "S'pose that's what I get for trying to impress you."

My mouth pressed together in a firm line and my eyes widened. The single fact that every word, every laugh up to this point seemed as if he didn't have a concern in the world impressed me. His demeanor was highly intriguing, and calming, to me.

Why? Why would he worry about impressing me, when I was obviously impressed with him?

"That said," he interrupted my thoughts. "Are you free to do this again? Maybe Thursday, meet you here at the same time?"

I nodded. "Maybe you should walk over here first." Again, that warm laugh returned.

"I'm looking forward to it love." His left eye twitched involuntarily.

Is he having a seizure? Or did he just wink? Why would he wink at me?

My thoughts shifted in another direction as his breathing slowed, and a small smile pulled up the corners of my mouth.

"That smile again... What?" He finally lifted himself upright and seemed to have caught his breath.

"Can I ask you something personal?" I shifted uncomfortably in my shoes.

"Sure."

"Can I have some of your blood?"

His eyes flooded with confusion, even a social impotent like me could see that.

Well that wasn't creepy.

My mind scolded my choice of words. They had just tumbled of out my mouth. He hadn't run away yet, but I noticed some of the color draining from his face and added hastily, "For strictly pathological reasons."

"Your work?" I nodded. "Sure."

There it was again, that ease and carefree demeanor. Noah's presence was becoming addictive, like I was a moth drawn to a flame. A horrible analogy because most likely that moth would end up burnt to a crisp, but I hope it conveyed what I felt.

"Thanks." I shifted uncomfortably again, unsure of how I to navigate this next part of the conversation.

"What?" He stood up straighter and his shoulders relaxed slightly.

"You'll get a phone call... to schedule an appointment at our lab location. There's a phlebology station on the second floor."

"Okay.." His eyes looked at me curiously.

Don't put those pieces together.

My mind pleaded the thought, but he immediately did such that.

"So, you still have my number."

In a sense of honesty, I shook my head. One of the building cleaners had tossed the cocktail napkin out. It didn't matter though, since I'd stared at the numbers hundreds of times when once was all I'd needed.

"No... But I memorized it."

Shit, I didn't mean it like that.

I expected him to be disappointed in hearing that despite this, I still hadn't called him. Instead, he simply smiled.

"Good."