Unintended Consequences

Unintended Consequences

Rachelle's plan was only partially complete. She had ventured into a winter woodland landscape of loneliness, and now the first tracks of a single deer had been left in the snow. No one can ever collect enough “first times,” to form a general opinion as to how memorable these might be, but Rachelle had a personal confidence that for Jerry, anyway, the first time was certain to be memorable. But her intentions were by no means satisfied. She could do more, and she would not consider the job done, while there was anything left she could do.

She didn't ponder her next move in any calculating way. She was experienced in sexual politics and so it came naturally. Her initial step was to discover the class that Jerry shared with Andover. As it transpired, it was Matrix Algebra. It was not her way to prepare by halves, so she devoted her followup efforts to discovering something about Matrix Algebra from a school tutor. Next, she chose a likely third party. She settled on Eleanor Randolph, a committed recipient of a tennis scholarship. Eleanor had no part to play, other than to be outside Andover's social circuit.

Having laid the groundwork for her impending fiction, she contrived to make Andover's acquaintance in the Library. It was no time before Jerry's regular visits there, gave her the necessary opportunity. “Psst. Andover!”

Andover looked up at Rachelle's whisper. She made no comment, but her look telegraphed a visual question mark.

“Do you know that guy over there? He's my boyfriend's room mate, and Eleanor Randolph say's he's a guilty pleasure!” she lied. “She made a man of him last semester, and said it was real nice, while it lasted.”

Andover was suggestible, and began to take an interest almost immediately. After all, she had access to the guy, right there, in her Matrix Algebra class. “What's he like?” she asked. Her tone implied a comment more in line with “What's so special about him,” but she actually liked the suggestion.

“Well, according to Eleanor, he's extra discrete. You know; he doesn't 'kiss and tell.'” Rachelle had used such stories before, both to thwart Mark's efforts and to assist them, but doing it for Jerry was more gratifying. “She said she tried him out because he's a runner, but he was too nerdy for her.” This was a fairly safe bet; Eleanor wasn't the kind to take Matrix Algebra.

Andover knew enough athlete's to know that the “jock” stereotype had its basis in fact. Eleanor would probably prefer sandcastles over Rubik's cubes. “He IS smart, I'll give him that much,” Andover volunteered.

Rachelle didn't rush things. “How do you know?” she asked, deliberately implying ignorance.

“Oh, it's just the questions he asks in class,” Andover replied. “They usually show he read the material before class, and wants to chase rabbit trails.” Then, by way of explanation, she added, “Most people are just asking questions about stuff they should already know.”

Rachelle experienced a thrill at this remark. Andover didn't know it, but she had just placed herself somewhere between “nerd,” and “phreq.” Being somewhat of a geek in her own right, Rachelle reflected that Jerry must have been justified in a least part of his assessment. She knew it would be fun watching these two collide. Mark might describe it as “like watching 'robot wars.'” She had intended to leave the seed of interest to germinate for a time, but Andover appeared to be receptive already. After a moment's deliberation, she asked “What do you think your boyfriend will say?” Her introductory comment about kissing and telling, and the use of the verb deliberately bypassed the idea that a boyfriend should stop Andover from investigating.

“He joined the Air Force straight after graduation.” It was Andover's turn to lie. True, he had joined the Air Force, but her high school beau had kicked her to the curb just before the Prom, leaving her without an exclusive boyfriend.

“Guess he must have been pretty smart too,” Rachelle commiserated. “The Air Force only takes the best. I should know... my brother's at the US Naval Academy.”

They returned to their respective studies, both well pleased with developments. Andover would never really wonder how or why Rachelle knew that Jerry was unattached. She had not even bothered to determine that she would not, in fact, be “poaching.”

It was the following week, before Andover made her move. This too was the product of planning. It's notoriously hard for girls to make the first move, but she didn't wait for pure chance to drive Jerry into her waiting arms. As her mother always used to say: “What are you waiting for… love's true kiss?” When she struck, fortune favored her preparation.

On Thursday, in Matrix Algebra, Andover approached Jerry with a request. “Do you mind helping me with an extra-curricular question?” she asked.

For his part, Jerry was unaware of his impending good fortune. These socialite babes were always asking for help with school work. This appeared to be yet another imposition on his academic goodwill. The word “extra-curricular,” sounded like a clue, though... what did she want to study? “I'm not sure when,” he hedged, “But yeah, I don't mind taking a look at something.”

Andover's planning would soon show. “Can we meet at your dorm room?” she imposed further. “It's not what you think... I can't do it in the library, 'cause there's no compilers, and I can't do it on my laptop, 'cause the graphics card is pretty pitiful. But I'm sure your box has a pretty good graphics card, right?”

She had spoken truth, but only by complex reasoning. Admittedly, most guys would get the “booty call” implication loud and clear, under these circumstances. But Jerry was not most guys. True, he believed that her “not what you think,” comment implied no “booty call...” but he didn't think that in the first place: he supposed she was completely forthright in her request to use his hardware. Since it was a booty call, it was, in fact, not what he thought!

“I'd have to say you've come to the right place. I've got two graphics cards, in a Crossfire configuration.”

Andover clarified her ploy. “It's a matrix problem, and I know graphics cards are set up to massively parallelize matrix operations,” she explained. “I'll tell you more when I get there,” she continued. She didn't want to give him the chance to answer her question instantly – not a likely possibility, but who can plan for everything? “I'll be there tomorrow evening at 7:30?” she finished, meeting his eye boldly.

“Um... OK, I guess so,” Jerry stumbled. Intellectually, it sounded like caviar for the brain. Socially, it was a deliberate hit and run. At that moment, he would probably have been lucky to answer even simple arithmetic.

Andover gave him no opportunity to remember other plans, making herself scarce as quickly as she could. He didn't have her number, so he couldn't call and cancel. Short of standing her up by leaving his own domicile, she had him. Not unlike shooting fish in a barrel, she reflected.

During the next 36 hours, Andover took every opportunity to finish up classwork, and prepare for the coming week. If things didn't work out, she'd have plenty of time during the weekend, but she wasn't planning to fail.

When she finally knocked on Jerry's door just before the appointed hour, she was wearing a yellow floral sun-dress, and flats, with a red sash. She had not told anyone of the date, and he had predictably not seen it as a conversation point either. The evening's baseball game was the start of a home stand, so Mark and Rachelle were otherwise occupied.

Andover's chosen question was born of careful consideration. She asked Jerry to explain if one could use a 3-dimensional matrix, to map a 2-dimensional function that was NOT a mathematical group, onto a 3-dimensional function that actually WAS a mathematical group. Talking points included Fermat's last theorem (did this categorically exclude the solution,) and the observation that the summation of cubes could reliably produce perfect squares. To put it another way, if she didn't get laid, it was going to be because of a damned good explanation to a fucking IMPOSSIBLE problem!

When Mark's key turned in the lock, he and Rachelle entered to find the pair watching TV from Jerry's bed, their clothes lying untidily on the floor.

Rachelle was the first to speak. “I know Andover from the library,” she ventured. “Andover, this is Mark; Mark – Andover,” she finished.

“Hi,” Mark said, bending his real attention on finding the TV remote. Some guys unilaterally want what someone else has; happily Mark was not one of them. At the moment, he was more interested in the end of a NASCAR truck race. The team had lost it's opener, and he was subdued.

When Mark eventually hit the lights, it was just before midnight, and Andover had made no move to leave. Mark cared little if she left or stayed, but he needed to sleep – tomorrow's game would arrive whether he was rested or not.

Rachelle felt a sense of accomplishment of her own, since she had put this plan into motion, and she stayed as well. In fact, seeing Jerry count coup had turned her on a little. When she joined Mark in bed, it was not long before she yielded to her craving. Mark was tired, but left field wasn't that exhausting, and Rachelle's interest soothed his wounded ego. Soon she and Mark were rapt in full embrace.

While they did not make a production of it, their activity was unavoidably evident to Andover. Suggestible as ever, she decided to do Jerry a solid, and acted accordingly. Jerry needed little encouragement, and soon he and Andover were doing the same thing.

Andover had merely intended to underscore Jerry's virility to his room mate, by banging him again. However, as the situation developed, the law of unintended consequences took over.

Rachelle was still thinking more about Jerry than Mark, and when she got Mark to moan, she concluded that Jerry must take note.

Meanwhile, Andover, taking note herself, tried to elicit a similar response from Jerry – less successfully. However, her attempt resulted in redoubled efforts on Jerry's part. She got more than she had bargained for, and her involuntary vocalization was perversely satisfying to Jerry. Perversely, because he derived his satisfaction, not from Andover's pleasure, but from his knowledge that Rachelle could not ignore his accomplishment.

Here, Mark became motivated to compete – he wanted to provoke a reaction from Rachelle to correspond with those of Andover, in order to match Jerry's accomplishment. However, Rachelle was not as easily overcome.

Competition reliably leads to redoubled efforts to improve results, and this was no exception. Of the four, Rachelle was best equipped to vanquish her partner, but the efforts of all them all continued longer than necessary for any single one of them.

That night there were no losers, but Jerry and Rachelle were particularly imprinted on each other.