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The human brain is a mystery, a maze of enticing, shadowed secrets. Humans have dedicated centuries to plucking away the barrier hiding away those mysteries. We've poked and prodded around in a system too intricate to our comprehension. And yet, we keep going. It's ironic, really; our brain's instinct to grow, pushes us to study the very thing creating those instincts.
That irony, that very irony, I would say was the thing that carved my infatuation. To an extent, I would even say it's the reason I chose Psychology, why I chose to understand the frontal lobes ability to make you and I just who we are. Why we crave physical touch or that rush of adrenaline, why we crave our impulses, our little hidden desires that we know will get us nowhere but trouble.
Is it not fascinating?
Or, is it not fascinating that I could sit here and ramble about a subject you might be yawning at?
Fascinating.
Seductive.
More and all, I know my attraction to such a topic is nothing short of unique. Jonah scoffs every time I bring it up, the slight buck of his lips suggesting disinterest and annoyance. My sister Insists I need more than a countless collection of books and my mind to keep me company. My father, who I followed after, was about the only one who understood my wonder, but he's buried close in a sanctuary near my grandmother.
I never minded being alone. I never minded my longest conversation with humankind being me ordering my morning coffee. Loneliness is fidelity. The truth is, you are never truly alone, and such is what I understand. Besides, I have Jonah; he sits across from me at the café with his phone to his ear, flirting up his latest fling over the network. And I pay him no mind, bringing my black coffee to my lips and feeling the warmth heat my tongue.
"Yea' right, I guess I'll see ya tonight." Jonah says, an idiotic lift in his voice. An excited flirtation I suppose.
Jonah's square jawed looks attract women, despite his lack of use of vocabulary and grammatical sentences. His skin and body are healthy, as suggested by his shining dark bronze skin. Additionally, his arms and neck are well-defined, indicating his fit physique.. I notice because he wants me to notice, it's the kind of guy Jonah is. He wants eyes on him, and usually it works.
Jonah brushes a stray dread away from his dark eyes, and a smirk spreads across his face in my direction. Immediately, I give him a deadpan stare from behind my glasses. He doesn't take the hint, "So, Louis? You gonna sit there all quiet the entire time we're here?"
"I have nothing to say." I speak, truthfully.
The truth is, me and Jonah have nothing in common. It is an unlikely friendship, he and I. He's gravely loud, and outgoing; obnoxious, I think sometimes. I'm quiet, soft-spoken, and quite a few people have commented on my unapproachable attitude. Most of the comments come from Jonah himself.
Despite his actions, speech, and general entire existence: Jonah truly isn't dumb. An idea I still struggle to comprehend at times.
I look out the windows, watch the clouds roll over the sky and dim the rising sun. A couple cars roll past the block, holding families, problems, and unity within their bellies. Holding none of those things: a single drop of rain rolls down the glass pane, and suddenly I'm sighing.
"You good, man?"
"It isn't supposed to rain until tomorrow."
Jonah takes a pause, like he's thinking of something stupid to say. I guess he gives up because he grabs his sweater from the back of his chair and rises to his feet like a mummy in a casket, "You're gonna be late for class. Let's get going."
"I am never late for class." I say, smiling at Jonah because it's true. Even so, I grab my scrappy leather satchel and I toss the strap over my head. Jonah waits for me to stand before walking to the door and shoving it open with large hands. The Café doorbell rings through my ears as we make out into the drizzling open.
"You don't have to drive me, you know. I'm fine with taking the bus." I say, scraping my eyes over the passing traffic near the intersection. Jonah doesn't bother to walk with me to the crossroad, he just starts across the street with his hands in his pockets and his head sweeping from left to right. I wait for the light to trot across the road and catch up to Jonah's bouncing ponytail of dreads.
He fumbles through his pockets for the keys to his black Trailblazer, "Nah, man. Let me do you a solid, it's finna get cold quick. Ah! There they are."
I cross to the other side, grab the passenger door and look up at the cloudy sky, "Classic New Orleans."
"Classic New Orleans." Jonah repeats.

By the time we've reached the university, the light handed drizzle turned into a flooding pour. I stare out the window, watching students jump from their cars, using anything they can for shelter over their heads while they bolt for the doors. My gratitude towards Jonah grows as I settle back in the dryness of my clothes.
Jonah is spinning the wheel, and the car makes a gentle turn into a row of parked cars. He trims his eyes back and forth, looking for a space to let his car rest. He sighs, "It's always the rainy days these folks wanna fill up the parking lot. Where'm I supposed to park at?"
"Try near the entrance." I say, pointing a finger towards the row of empty parking spaces. I snort when Jonah raises an eyebrow at me from the driver's seat.
"Those are reserved for staff."
"See, that's what everyone believes." I grab my bag that is leaning gently against my leg, then welcome it into my lap. I give another nod towards the parking spaces. "It's not the entire row reserved for them. Park in the last three."
Jonah gives me a look, one that is suddenly uneasy. "Where the hell do you be learning this crap, man?"
I shrug.
"Bull."
I don't give him a second mind, just slowly un-strap myself from the seat buckle and string my bag over my shoulder. The car glides into the parking spot with ease, and it's before the car even stops that I'm opening the door and hopping from the vehicle.
Jonah calls behind me, "Ay! What's the hurry?!"
"It's cold out here. The building has heat." Rain pours down my face, thinning my brown hair and soaking my gray-blue polyester jacket. It's wet, it's cold, and it doesn't take long for pools of water to be tinting my lenses. I pull them off my face, let them rest in my pocket.
Jonah is unbuckling his seat belt, "Well wait up! We got the same class, don't we?"
"Yeah, hurry up." I say, and I don't wait for him.
The general science college is one of the largest on campus, but not many students scuttled the halls sharply at 8am on a Friday. It was fairly easy to bend around the unpopulated area and climb up the stairs into the lecture hall. The red door was like a red carpet, welcoming the paparazzi (the students) into line to watch the celebrity(the professor) in the glorious limelight. Each time I opened this door, the professor did not disappoint. Some address him as Professor Diaz, some as Doctor Diaz, but within the field of Psychology, he has gained wide recognition.
Soaked and shivering, I step down the stairs and settle into one of the empty rows in the lecture hall. Again, being eight in the morning there weren't many students in the lecture hall. Maybe forty or so; all were scattered around on different sides of the room leaving hundreds of empty seats filling in the space.

- The writing style is descriptive and engaging, drawing the reader in from the start.

- The use of irony in relation to the topic of studying the brain is interesting and thought-provoking.
- The characterization of the protagonist and Jonah is well done, with clear differences in personality and interests.
- The dialogue feels natural and helps to showcase the differences between the two characters.
- The setting and atmosphere are well described, allowing the reader to visualize the scene.
- The transition from the café to the university is smooth and flows well.
- The introduction of Professor Diaz adds another layer to the story and builds anticipation for the class.
- The cliffhanger ending with the mention of the lecture hall being mostly empty leaves the reader curious to find out what happens next.
- Overall, the story has a strong start and sets up the potential for an engaging and intriguing plot.