Stephanie turns to run, but I stop her.

I do not grab her arm or block her path. I call her name, softly, and somehow that is enough. I need her to understand. Stephanie is the one person I can be completely myself with, the one person I do not have to hide my love of anime, science fiction, or video games from. She never looks at me like I am strange for caring about those things. If anything, she cares more deeply than I do.

Honestly, she is probably better at all of it than I am.

And that only makes this hurt more.

"Please," I say quietly.

It is only one word, barely more than a breath, but it makes her stop. She stands there with her back to me, shoulders tight, as if she is bracing herself for another blow.

"Who… who is it?" she asks, her voice thick as she sniffs back tears.

"Can we go somewhere private?" I ask. "I promise I will tell you everything."

She turns just enough to look at me, her eyes sharp and accusing. For a brief moment, I am reminded of Mary asking me that same question not that long ago, the same mix of suspicion and vulnerability written across her face.

She does not answer. Instead, she turns away again and starts walking.

I hurry to fall in step beside her, matching her pace as best I can. We walk in silence. My mind races, trying to organize everything I need to say, everything I should have said sooner. Each step feels heavier than the last. When I realize we are heading toward the parking lot, a knot forms in my stomach. I worry that she plans to get into her car and drive away, leaving me standing there with words I will never get the chance to say.

When we reach her vehicle, she unlocks the doors and pauses, waiting for me to get into the passenger seat.

I exhale slowly and do as she silently asks.

It does not get much more private than this.

She closes her door, but does not start the car. Instead, she sits stiffly, her hands folded tightly in her lap, staring straight ahead at the steering wheel as if it might offer her some guidance.

"So," she says at last, her voice rigid with emotion. "Start talking."

I swallow.

"Before that night in the freezer," I begin, "I slept with Tina from Professor Jane's class."

She does not look at me when she answers. "That was before we were together in the freezer," she says flatly. "It does not count."

"No, it does not," I agree. "But it did not stop that night."

She finally turns to look at me then, her expression guarded but attentive.

"You already know about your sister," I continue. "At the party."

Her jaw tightens, but she nods once.

I keep going. I tell her everything. I do not soften it or skip details to protect myself. I tell her about everyone I have been with. I tell her about my mistakes and my selfishness. I even tell her things I never planned to say out loud, things that still make my chest ache with guilt.

I tell her about my sister. About my mother. About Prof Janet.

She listens in complete silence, her face unreadable, until I mention Vage.

"Wait," she says sharply. "You want me to believe you have been with an alien?" She turns entirely toward me now, anger flashing in her eyes. "Do you think I am stupid?"

Her tone is oddly calm, and somehow that makes it far more dangerous.

"No," I say carefully. "I think you are the smartest woman I know." I mean every word, even if I do not tell the qualifier in my head that she is the smartest in my age group. "And I can prove it."

Her eyebrows lift in disbelief. "You can prove that you slept with an alien."

"She gave me an ability," I say. "I think of it as switches."

She lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Of course you do."

"Anything I can conceive of as a switch, I can affect," I continue. "I can also sense them. That is how I have always been able to tell you apart from your sister. I made a switch in you, but not in her. That is why you could never trick me after the party."

Her expression hardens. "You made a switch in me?"

"Yes."

"And what does it do?" she asks. "Make me fall stupidly in love with you?"

The bitterness in her voice feels like a knife twisting in my chest.

"No," I say quickly. "It does not work like that. I think of it as a happy switch. If I move it, you feel happier."

She stares at me for a long moment.

"So why do you not move it now?" she demands. "If you really have this ability, then make me happy. I am tired of feeling angry, hurt, and betrayed. If you can do this, then do it."

I shake my head. "I will not manipulate you like that."

Her hands clench into fists. "Then how are you going to prove any of this?"

"I have never used that switch," I say. "Not to change how you feel. I only ever sensed it. But I can still prove what I am saying."

I think for only a split second, and her car starts up. It's too easy for me to do it, as I've been starting cars since practically the first day.

Stephanie jumped when her car started. She was startled, fumbling for her keys. She pulled them from her pocket and stared at them, then at the steering wheel, then back at me.

"That is a trick," she says quickly. "Some kind of fluke. Did you install an automatic starter when I was not paying attention?"

I shake my head. Then, purely for effect, I snap my fingers and turn the car off.

Her eyes widen.

"All right," she says slowly. "So you have some strange power. That still does not mean you should not prove it by making me happy."

"I do not want to manipulate you," I repeat.

She scoffs. "You already are."

With a heavy sigh, I give in. I focus on her happy switch. It resists me at first, like pushing against a locked door. It takes effort to move it at all, and I realize it is because she is fighting it without even knowing she is. The fact that it moves at all tells me how much stronger I have become.

Once it shifts, the change is immediate. Her shoulders relax. Her breathing slows. The resistance fades, and it becomes easier to move the switch the rest of the way.

"There," I say quietly. "You are happy now."

Her eyes widen again, but this time in wonder.

"Oh my… I cannot believe it. I really am happy." She lets out a small, breathless laugh. "I was furious just a moment ago."

Unease coils in my stomach. I start to pull the switch back.

"Do not," she says sharply. She reaches out, as if she can feel what I am doing. "Do not take this away. I believe you. Just do not take it away."

I stop.

Her smile fades on its own. "You still cheated on me, though."

"I did not cheat," I say before I can stop myself. "We were not officially together. I asked you. More than once. You kept saying no."

She lowers her head, considering that. I feel the happy switch dip slightly.

"You are right," she says quietly. "If you had said that a few minutes ago, I would have lost it, but I can handle it now." She looks back up at me. "You may think of it as manipulation, and it probably is, but I want you to know that I appreciate you moving that... switch."

She hesitates before asking, "Are there any other switches in me ?"

I break eye contact and nod. "Two," I murmur, feeling her 'happy' switch drop a little more.

"And what do they do?" Her tone is level, but I can feel the ice beneath.

"Remember how nervous you were before Professor Jane's final?" I ask, wait for her nod before continuing. "I made them to help you remember things more easily. And to give you confidence."

Her emotions shift again, confusion mixing with something softer.

"I thought you did not want to manipulate me."

"I wasn't manipulating you," I defend myself.

"I did not gain anything from that," I say. "You could have passed on your own. I just tried to give you a bit of a boost to help."

She is silent for a long time and her switch doesn't give me any clues as to what she might be thinking, either. Finally, after a few minutes, she asks, "I don't understand why this alien gave you this ability, though. Is it to mess with the human race?"

"No, she did it to try to save all of us," I say.

I tell Stephanie about the demons, about the aliens, about the technology that was stolen and turned into a weapon.

"The demons will be here in a month," I conclude.

She exhales slowly. "And you are supposed to stop them with these switches of yours?"

"How are you going to do that? Make them all happy? Start their cars?" She asks me, and despite the guilt I feel for using her switch, I'm glad it's removed most of her anger.

"I do not know how yet," I replied.

"My sister Loveth has the same gene I do," I add. "Her ability amplifies mine. But to do that, we have to be touching."

She stiffens.

"Touching?" she asks quietly. "How much touching?"

And I know exactly what she is thinking.

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