100 Gigabytes

2,922 words - teen fiction

When I was born, my parents purchased the standard infant memory wetware package of 50 terabytes. Babies have to soak up a lot of new information, so you’ve got to start off with quite a bit of room in their brain or they'll turn out stupid. No one wants a stupid kid.

At three months, my parents upgraded my memory to a full 100 terabytes of wetware, giving me ample room to learn things like language and motor skills and to develop muscle memory.

The human brain can hold up to 2.5 petabytes, but the average person functions at 100 terabytes. Memory is $1 a gig. Since a terabyte is 1,000 gigabytes, and a petabyte is 1,000 terabytes, storage room in your brain gets a little pricey.

I might not be rich, but I certainly don’t intend to be average. Since my sixteenth birthday, I’ve been working at a little burger and shake place on the corner of 9th and 27th. I make a nice $500 a month there, and mom lets me spend $100 of that on a H2735 100 gigabyte memory wetware package. I’m up to 1,600 gigabytes in my brain, and I don’t intend to stop anytime soon.            

The burger and shake place is where I first saw the tallest guy of my entire life. And by tallest I mean hottest. Because, let’s be honest, at 5’11” I’m a disaster of a prom date. Tall equals attractive. As long as he isn’t covered in acne. Obviously.

           This guy was wearing a t-shirt that said, “There are 10 types of people in this world: those who understand binary numbers and those who don’t.” So he fell into the hot category.

           While he was standing in line, I kept thinking, “Please come to my cash register!” But when he did, my brain shut off. It was like all those gigabytes I had in my skull got unplugged, and I couldn’t remember how to even smile.

           “Hey, Sienna,” he said.

           This guy knew me?! I forgot how to breathe too.

           “We missed you at Todd’s on Friday,” he said. “Did you have to work?”

           I guess my muscle memory kicked in because I said, “Would you like a shake with that?”

           He laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

           I gave a nervous laugh back. James at the next cash register over gave me a weird look.

           “You get off at 7:30 tonight?” the tall guy asked.

           He also knew my schedule? It would have been creepy if he wasn’t so tall and nerdy.

           I managed to nod.

           “Want to see a movie or something?”

           Was he asking me out? I said, “Uh….”

He laughed again, only this time it sounded a little concerned. “You okay?” he asked.

           I nodded again.

           Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the dinner line stacking up. “I’ll text you.”

           I nodded again. Once I had remembered how to do something I couldn’t stop doing it.

           “’Kay,” he said. “See you later?”

           I nodded for the hundredth time.

           He gave me a hesitant smile on his way out the door. I nodded back.

           “You sure you’re alright?” James asked, leaning over to me.

           “What?” Now that the tall guy was out of sight, my brain rebooted. “Yeah, of course.”

           James raised his eyebrows.

           At 7:30, two hours after the tall-guy encounter, I clocked out and checked my phone. There was a text. I didn’t recognize the name, but my phone knew the number.

           Keene: You up for a movie tonight?

           If I had entered this guy’s number into my phone I had to know who he was, right? When I opened the text, there wasn’t just one message. There were dozens of previous conversations. More than I could scroll back through. Clutching the phone, I stared at the black letters against the glowing screen, at all these texts I could not remember sending or receiving.             

Keene: Morning sunshine :)

           Me: Morning handsome :)

           Me: I got the sticky note you left on my locker. Did you have to skip school to do that?

           Keene: <3

           Me: Happy three-month anniversary!! :*

           Keene: Best three months of my life! :D

           Keene: P.S. Have I told you you’re gorgeous?

           Me: Have I told you you’re the best boyfriend ever?

           My phone rang making me jump. The caller ID said it was Keene.

I answered automatically. “Hello?”

           “Hey, Sienna!” It was the tall guy. He sounded relieved. “How was work?”

           “It was fine.”  My breath was making misty air in front of me. He had my number. Was he a stalker? He seemed geeky and attractive, which I was all for, but how had he gotten my number? How had I gotten his?

           “Great!” he said. “So, are you up for a movie tonight? Or do you want to get home early to study for the competition tomorrow?”

           “A movie sounds nice. I like movies.” What was I saying? Words were just coming out of me. How did he know I had a math competition tomorrow? “But I’d better ask my mom.”

           “Oh,” he said. “Sure. I mean, do you guys have something going on this evening?”

           “No,” I said. “No, we don’t. I don’t think we do. I just don’t want her to worry.”

           “Okay,” he said. “Yeah. Of course. Let me know?”

           “Yeah.” My voice was too high. “Yeah, I’ll text you.”

           “Okay,” he said. “Talk to you soon.”

           I nodded, which was stupid. He couldn’t see me.

           “Hey, Sienna?”

           “Yeah?”

           He paused for a second. “Are we okay?”

           “What?”

           “You are me? Are we… you know, okay?”

           “Uh…” My brain was rifling through all 1,600 gigabytes of memory storage, trying to dig up something on this guy. I pictured papers flying as little people inside my head tore through filing cabinets full of folders of information on my life. I was coming up blank.

           “It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to answer that. We can talk about it later. Let me know if you want to do something tonight.”

           “Yeah.”

           “Love you.” He disconnected.

           I held the phone to my ear for a few blank seconds. Then I sat down on the curb so hard my butt hurt. I was crazy. That was the only explanation. My phone thought I’d had a boyfriend for over three month. Either the phone was crazy or I was. I typed out a text to my mom. I didn’t want to admit I might be losing my mind, but I needed some sort of confirmation from her that I wasn’t hallucinating this guy. I debated what to say for a few minutes before texting her.

           Me: A guy named Keene asked me to go to the movies tonight. Is that alright?

           I took slow breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth while I waited for her to text back. My sanity depended on her reply. But when my phone chimed, all I had was a winky face. What was that supposed to mean?

I rubbed my arms and looked up and down the street. I usually walked home, but if there was a chance I might be going on a date instead, I didn’t want to throw it away. I wondered if that made me stupid. I guess no matter how much brain capacity you have at birth, it doesn’t guarantee you’ll make smart decisions.

Texting Keene back took way too long since I deleted the text at least five times.

           Me: My mom doesn’t mind. Movie?

           Keene: Great! I’ll be there in five.

           Shoving the phone in my pocket, I huddled on the cement and waited. I wondered if this was a prank my friends were pulling to see if they could hook me up. Or if this guy was a serial killer who had stolen my phone for a bit before approaching me. Maybe my body would show up on the news tomorrow. There had to be some software to load fake texts onto a phone, right?

           A beat-up brown truck pulled up to the curb next to me and the window rolled down.

           “Hey,” said Keene.

           “Hey,” I said. I glanced at the license plate and committed it to memory, just in case. Good thing I had so much extra storage space. But I still got in the car, my heart jumping around.

           “So,” said Keene as we drove. “You want to talk about it?”

           I fidgeted with my phone. “Uh…”

           “You don’t have to,” he said. “But is it me? Am I doing something wrong?” When I still didn’t answer, his knuckles whitened as he said, “Is there another guy?” He looked like he was strangling his steering wheel.

           I gave a little laugh. “I’m a computer geek,” I said. “What do you think?” Until five minutes ago, I hadn’t thought there was even one guy.

           He shrugged but didn’t give his steering wheel a chance to breathe.

           “If it’s James,” he said, “you should know-”

           I burst out laughing. “James? Seriously? That guy is like an annoying little brother.” I turned my phone screen on and then off again. My hands were still shaking.

           “Then what is it?” He sounded angry.

           “Is this a prank?” I asked.

           His truck swerved as he turned to look at me. “What?”

           “All of this,” I said. “The texts, you showing up at my work, going to the movies- Did my friends put you up to this? I wouldn’t put it past Camille to engineer something that could load customized texts onto a phone.”

           “What are you talking about?”

           “You! I’m talking about you! This morning I was geeky and single and then you walked into the burger place and suddenly I’ve had a boyfriend for three months?”

           He pulled into the parking lot and turned off the car. “What’s going on, Sienna?”

           “That’s what I’m trying to figure out!” I didn’t bother unbuckling. “Who are you?”

           Keene took in a slow breath. “Are you telling me you don’t remember the last three months?”

           “Of course I remember the last three months! I have over a terabyte and a half of memory! I just don’t remember you being a part of the last three months. In fact, I don’t remember even seeing you before today!”

           Keene ran his hands over the wheel, up the sides and back down again. “Is this a joke?”

           “You’re asking me?”

           “I’m serious, Sienna!”

           “So am I!” Our gazes locked.

His lips were parted as he realized just how serious I was, and I realized what a nice kissable look his lips had. I pressed my own lips together and looked away.

           The interior of the car was starting to cool down now that the heater was off. I wished he would turn the car back on. I couldn’t tell if my shaking was just the cold or something deeper.

           “We’ve been together for three months, Sie,” Keene said. His voice was low. “You’ve known me for six. My name is Keene Jay Anderson. I’m sixteen. My birthday is October 25th, almost three months before yours.”

My shivering got stronger.

“I go to Seven Lakes High School on the other side of town from Kinaford High where you go to school. We met during the summer at a teen math competition. You creamed me.”

“I remember the competition,” I said. “I remember winning. But I don’t remember you.”

His eyes were an intense brown. They were the kind of eyes I loved - full of life and joy. I could see why I had fallen for him. If I actually had.

“I congratulated you afterwards,” he said, “but really I just used that as an excuse to talk to this gorgeous girl who had just made all us guys look like idiots. I asked you for help with some math problems because I was too scared to ask you out. You gave me your number.”

Massaging my forehead, I didn’t ask the questions I was too embarrassed to ask. Have we kissed? You said, ‘I love you’ on the phone. Have I ever said it back? How serious are we?

“What was our first date?” I asked instead.

“We played laser tag.”

That sounded plausible. “Did I win?”

He laughed. “You came in second.”

“Okay, I might have believed you up until you said that. I always win at laser tag.”

“Ha! That’s what you said when I asked you out. But you had never played against me.” He smirked. It was adorable.

How many times had I seen that smirk? How many times that I had forgotten? If this was true, I had lost moments of my life. Moments I desperately wanted back.

I said, “Please tell me we had a rematch?”

“Of course! We’ve had several.”

“And?”

“And you’ve won about half of them…”

“Half?”

He shrugged. “I’m telling you, I’m good.”

I shook my head and looked out the window. “If this is real, why can’t I remember it?”

“It is real,” Keene said. “It’s very real.”

Lighting up my phone screen again, I typed in my pass code and opened the first social media app I could find. I needed more proof. My chest was starting to ache and I didn’t want to grieve over losing something if it wasn’t real.

There were pictures. Lots of pictures. So many that it would have taken someone ages to photoshop them all if they weren’t genuine.

Pictures of Keene with his arms around me from behind.

Pictures of Keene and I taking selfies with laser guns.

Pictures of Keene kissing me.

I guess that answered that question. I could feel myself starting to blush.

Until I saw the ad on the side of the screen.

***Recall notice: Memory product H2735 is being recalled due to corruptible wetware. If you have purchased this 100 GB memory product within the last seven months, free replacements are provided at most memory facilities. Talk to your local memory specialist for details.***

I swallowed. It was real. All of it was real. A weight sunk onto my chest, the sorrow of losing three months of getting to know this handsome geek next to me.

“I think I just figured it out.” I turned the phone screen toward him.

He read the ad with a few flicks of his eyes. Then his jaw tightened. “If we take you in for a replacement, do you think they could reload your memories? The ones you lost?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it. It says the wetware is being corrupted. I’m guessing all my memories of you were all sorted together. And something happened to that file in my brain.”

“Are the memory centers still open?” he asked. “Where the nearest place?”

I looked it up on my phone, but they were all closed for the evening.

“We can go tomorrow,” I said.

He didn’t respond.

“Hey,” I said. “It’s not that big of a deal.” I could feel the lie as my voice caught. “I mean, I might not remember, but you can tell me everything. It’s not the same, I know. But-“

He shook his head. “I bought some of those too,” he said.

“Oh.” We sat in silence, watching the streetlights as it began to snow.

“We should get home,” I said. “Before the snow gets bad.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t move.

I put my hand on his. It felt weird, reaching out to him, but once I touched him my hand seemed to remember his even if my brain didn’t. “It’s okay,” I said. “There’s nothing to worry about. We can even skip school tomorrow if you want and go in first thing. They can exchange the memory on both of us. Transfer your files over.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He started the car.

Neither of us spoke the whole drive.

I woke up the next morning with a dull itch at the back of my mind. There was something I was going to do first thing in the morning. But I couldn’t think what it was.

All I remembered was being exhausted when I climbed into bed last night, like my brain had done aerobic exercises.

When the school bus pulled up, I looked around before getting on, that niggling feeling turning into a headache. It was probably just the upcoming math competition.

I was 30 minutes early to the competition. I liked to stake out my competitors. There was the usual – lots of glasses and braces and a general lack of hygiene. All geniuses I was sure. All about to get creamed. But there was one guy that stood out, and not just because of his height. While everyone else was scrambling through last-minute notes, he sat in his chair looking unphased. Something about him made me want to talk to him.

“Hey,” I said approaching him.

“Hey.” He stood and smiled.

He had a nice smile. Nice lips even. Kissable lips. Okay, what was I thinking?

“I’m Sienna,” I said. “I figured I should warn you that I’ll be winning this competition.”

He smirked. It was adorable. “I guess we’ll see about that.” Then a small frown creased his forehead. “Wait, your name is Sienna?” He stared at me for a moment like I was a math equation he was trying to solve, making my cheeks heat up under his gaze. Then he gave a small shake of his head and held out his hand. “It’s a beautiful name. Nice to meet you. I’m Keene.”

Photo by Schjelderup