Keep Me Guessing

--Alex's POV--

"You know I hate science, Alex."

"Believe me, Jack, you've expressed that feeling before."

"I have?" He asked, genuinely perplexed.

I sighed, "It wasn't your strongest subject back in the day." His most recent semi-scientific experiment involving a flamethrower and tinfoil replaying in my head, I decided to spare Jack the details as we headed directly towards the Maryland Science Center in downtown Baltimore.

With the enormous glass structure in our sights, Jack groaned in discontent. "Alex, come on man. I didn't choose to forego the whole college thing just so I could party, you know. I happen to hate school, and learning, and teachers, and -"

"Jack, you definitely did intend on partying after high school. And during it, for that matter. And you didn't hate the teachers, they hated you."

He scrunched his nose. "That's not true. Ms. Carson totally had a thing for me in 11th."

"Yeah, I wonder why that one didn't work out." I said with a sarcastic glare, then turned my attention back up to the Science Center, now only a few hundred yards ahead.

I anxiously rustled the loose grey beanie on the back of my head and brushed the protruding strands of my hair out of my face. Thinking about it, this was probably the most unexpected thing Alex Gaskarth and a grouchy Jack Barakat would be doing on a rare day off in Baltimore. I didn't do anything to hide my identity, but I definitely pushed up my Aviator sunglasses and toyed with my note in the pocket of my dark blue skinny jeans nervously. I wouldn't have much of an excuse if anyone recognized me or asked what I was doing here on this particularly sunny day in the city.

Jack knew I was up to something. The second I showed up at his apartment, without a warning in the form of a phone call or text, he figured this was about a girl. Only not really, in this case. Informing him of our surprise trip to the Science Center was definitely not what he was expecting. A trip to the beach or Jaxx for an impromptu hunting spree was more up his alley, but being the best friend he was, he couldn't deny my pleading with him for quite the opposite.

I all but screamed bloody murder at the price of admissions once we got inside. I made a mental note to bitch and rant at the ridiculousness of $35 a person for a day's worth of scientific entertainment once I got the chance. And Emma? She'd be paying equal or more for this expensive form of torture.

For a science museum, Maryland had it pretty good. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows wrapped around the whole of the geometric building, and steel rafters framed the impossibly tall lobby walls and ceiling above us. The floor was entirely white marble, save for the black linoleum platforms that held the scattered few exhibits in the entrance, surrounded by dark blue velvet ropes, as if I'd be compelled to touch them in the first place. Ha.

I narrowed my eyes at the large entrance sign that listed off all the exhibits and a map of the entire museum, searching for one in particular. Running my finger down the surprisingly long list of fun-filled scientific adventures, I stopped at the one I was looking for: Follow The Blue Crab.

It was on the second floor, so I pulled a grumbling Jack behind me and headed up the stainless steel (and slightly dangerous) floating staircase. A giant blue crab served as the entrance to the exhibit we'd have the pleasure of walking through, its purposelessly detailed pinchers wide open and inviting. Jack grimaced at the sight, and I sighed. I wasn't looking forward to this at all.

True to its warm greeting and promise, we delved directly into the miraculous lives of Baltimore's own blue crab.

I was instantly bored. The reality of bearing through "over 300 feet!" of meticulous components of the blue crab's existence immediately exhausted me. Jack, on the other hand, jumped with excitement at the sight of real life crabs in a large tank past all the informative displays, and ran over there to say hello before I had a chance of stopping him.

Regardless, I realized that enduring the exhibit was all part of Emma's game to begin with. I couldn't pass a single display, video, or artifact without meticulously inspecting it, searching for my next note. As a result, I found myself vividly aware of far too many aspects of the blue crab than I'd ever be willing to admit in the future.

Approaching the exit, I narrowed my eyes and exhaled loudly at the sight of my note. Clear as day, it lied safely under a conch on a decorative display shelf lined with more shells, crabs, and assorted sea life alike.

I snatched up the note with an expressive roll of the eyes. Of course it was at the end of the exhibit. I just had to catch up on my blue crab history for this ambitious girl.

Whatever made her happy.

I think our youngest generation desperately needs you.

Oh she was pushing the happiness thing dangerously close to the edge with this one.

"What's that?" Jack's head popped up over my shoulder, eyeing the note with an overly critical look on his face.

I folded the note and turned to face him. "Jack, we're gonna go visit your favorite place in this entire Science Center." I informed him with a straight look, my voice dripping in unhappy sarcasm.

"Uh, good luck picking out that one. I'm pretty sure it's nonexistent."

I offered a small smile, then huffed and tucked the note into the first page of her notebook. "You won't be forgiving me for this one anytime soon." I said apologetically, glancing up at him.

He eyed me suspiciously. "I feel like I'm second to a complete mystery girl you've only been in touch with the last week. And through a couple sheets of paper."

"That's not what it is, Jack. We're just messing around, that's all."

Disallowing any further commentary on Jack's side, we made our way downstairs. Rounding a corner that nearly had us in the lobby again, we came face to face with our unfortunate destination.

Staring at the door, I heard a violent slap that I presumed to be Jack hitting his face in disbelief and confusion. Daring to peer at him, he was already staring me down with a hard glare.

"What's this girl's definition of "messing around," Alex? 'Cause this is looking more like borderline torture and cruelty."

I nervously scratched the back of my head and mustered a small laugh. "Come on, man, it could be a lot worse."

As if on cue, a frazzled middle-aged woman came tearing through the hallway, sights pointedly set on the door facing us. She towed a frighteningly insane boy behind her, maybe 6 years old, pulling him by the neck of his shirt as he flailed wildly and screamed protests. She only walked faster and pulled tighter with his outrageous shouts, and with a final round of scoldings directly into his scrunched up, red face, she all but threw him into The Kid's Room.

I didn't have to look at Jack to mimic his horror. I knew this was exactly where Emma intended on sending me. She was true in that our youngest generation was in dire need of some adequate role models. Not like I nor Jack fit the qualifications of most respectable role models, but I wouldn't put us past "adequate" just yet.

"Are you high?" Jack asked incredulously.

I sighed, "No, kinda wish I was at this point though."

"Ditto."

I clapped a hand on his shoulder, "Come on, let's get this over with."

"Do you even know where to go once we're in there? We need a game plan, Alex, 'cause God knows what kind of complications await us in that hellhole."

Shaking my head, I replied, "I honestly don't know where the note's gonna be. But it might be obvious once we're in there."

He groaned, "Can I just wait out here for you? I didn't sign up for this, Alex."

"You signed up for it the second you proclaimed yourself to be my best friend 6 years ago, Jack."

I understood the need for The Kid's Room in the museum; I mean, young or old parents who wanted to absorb the world's scientific wonders to its greatest extent could hardly do so with flailing, nagging children at their feet. And so they threw them into this extensive room, filled with all the colorful and playful activities necessary to the kids for a fun-filled day without parental supervision.

So finally, Jack and I found it in ourselves to dive directly into the maddening world of Baltimore's finest little rascals.

The bursts of sporadic colors were the first thing that caught me off guard. Primary reds, yellows, blues and greens smothered the walls and the playhouses and seemingly every item within the vast space. The floors were white linoleum, with random and, in my opinion, completely unnecessary rugs, in a variety of shapes and sizes. Wasn't it imminent that at least one child per day was going to puke, pee, or hammer their nasty shoes directly onto those rugs?

Apart from the interior decoration of the massive room, there was the screaming. So. Much. Screaming. Toddlers of all ages were running around maniacally, waving their arms in the air if they weren't already wielding water guns. They trampled over themselves and circled our legs, shouting at each other in some childlike gibberish I couldn't hope to understand. I was nearly deafened, jumping and lifting up my legs as if they were on fire as the stampede of screeching, vile creatures blew past.

Jack, bless his soul, was in his own living hell from the get-go. He partook in the tortured screaming as well as he was caught in the track of an intense one-on-one race, a chubby blonde girl running practically directly into him like he was wearing red. Based off his cursing shrieks ("HIT AND RUN, HIT AND RUN!"), I could only imagine the abuse he was in for. My lanky best friend was, unfortunately, a primary target right off the bat.

I grabbed a hold of Jack's shirt in an effort to actually proceed forward as opposed to standing in the line of fire, only feet from the door. I didn't expect the scowling, maddening, devilish twerps to be any more promising (or behaved) the deeper we ventured into the pit of hell, but I wasn't going to find my note anywhere near the entrance.

Emma wouldn't dream of making this easy for me.

We'd only managed to step around the swarming toddlers for a couple yards when we were approached by a middle-aged man who, I could sadly just tell, oversaw this madness. He wore thin, wire-rimmed glasses, sported stark white hair, and his sage collared shirt was tucked into his blue jeans. I didn't have the time to come up with a judgmental remark before he cleared his throat noisily in an effort to keep our attention.

"Do you two have kids to drop off?" He asked irately, narrowing his eyes at me. Which, by the looks of it, was something he did quite often, based off the definitive lines straight across his forehead. Smiling wasn't this guy's idea of a daily activity, I guessed. And personally, I wouldn't leave my kid with a scowling dude that challenged the likes of Snape. Not even in the name of science.

I cleared my throat in a not-so-subtle way of mocking the guy. "Uhm, no, not quite."

"Well then you must be aware that only parents and children under the age of 8 are permitted here." He said snidely.

"No, I didn't know that actually. You can be a parent at 8 years old?"

Jack snorted somewhere behind me, but this guy wasn't amused. He shot Jack a glare over my shoulder and returned to me, unfortunately. "Sir, I'm afraid you're both going to have to leave."

Well, that couldn't happen. I wasn't leaving here without my note, and Snape over here was certainly not gonna be the reason I couldn't keep talking to Emma.

"Look, I'm no father, but I do have a little cousin somewhere in here, and -" I began.

"Really." He interrupted, not convinced. He raised a skeptical, bushy eyebrow at me.

"Really. Little rascal's probably suffocating under the ball pit, too, so if you don't mind..." I forced a smile and attempted to shuffle past him, but he wasn't having it. He stepped in my way and raised a hand at me, interjecting.

"That's mighty hard to believe, considering I don't recall seeing either of you drop a child off here earlier."

Were we that out of place? Shocking.

"That's because my aunt did earlier. Brown hair, green eyes, nay high." I tried not to give any indication of knowing I'd just described about 3/4 the female population in Baltimore.

Prehistoric Snape actually rolled his eyes. "I hate to say I don't believe you, sir, but I truly don't believe you."

"You're a married man, sir?"

He paused for a second, as I'd expected. My question was far out of context, but I had a plan. I was not about to be stopped after coming this far.

"Yes, I am. But -"

"Then you'd understand, sir, that hell hath no fury like that of an in-law's scorn?"

The man stiffened, his eyes slightly widening at me from behind the half-inch of prescription glasses. "You're... married?" He asked incredulously.

I nodded once, praying to God that Jack wasn't guffawing behind me or giving off any other obvious signs I was lying. Big time.

"I think leaving here without my nephew in tow isn't going to bode well for me outside those doors. I mean, you can only guess I wasn't their first choice for a son-in-law to begin with." I said with a shrug, suddenly thankful for my adolescent attitude earlier.

The man backed up a step, his hands up in mock surrender. "Please, go. The last thing either of us needs is more torture than we already endure with those psychotic women." He shuddered, beckoning us to hurry.

I clapped my hands together in thanks, and, once more grabbing a hold of Jack, continued on into the depths of The Kid's Room.

The madness encircled us now, the rascals finding pleasure in poking, kicking, and running past the two tall and lanky adults that walked through them. More than once, Jack was hit dangerously close to his most precious cargo, and he no doubt would've stomped a few of the devils down if I didn't remind him desperately that he was probably ten times worse as a child. This ended his murder streak long enough for me to try focusing on my surroundings, to pick out the note.

There was an endless jungle gym, equipped with a rope course, monkey bars, plastic tube slides, and bridges adorned with interactive games. Then there was a single bounce-house, filled practically to the brim with laughing, shouting children. A huge corner of the room featured various scientific activities, like giant Legos forming a mini-Baltimore, a zigzagging maze, and a giant pinscreen covering an entire wall.

Everything, mind you, was entirely painted agonizingly bright colors. Blinding, really.

Where my note was, I was clueless and overwhelmed. That was, until I saw the ball pit.

Thousands of bright and colorful balls the size of my hand filled the brim of the sunken in ball pit, surrounded by inflatable plastic, like the bounce-house. The entire thing was probably the size of my whole living room and kitchen combined. All the little plastic balls were being thrown through the air, spilling over the walls, and probably being eaten somewhere under the surface.

But none of that mattered to me. Because looking up, I found my note. A bright red ball perched itself on a 10-foot tall chair that sat on a ledge above and behind the ball pit, like a lifeguard's chair. And taped to that ball was a piece of folded paper. My next clue.

I didn't think too seriously about what I was doing before diving headfirst into the ball pit. I don't think it really hit me how difficult it was going to be to cross the 35 feet through until I sunk to my knees in what seemed like an endless sea of primary-colored balls. And when half a dozen kids started breaking in war cries around me, I all but panicked.

Two kids in particular, a boy and a girl, posed my greatest threat. They stood barely over the depth of the pit, but shot daggers at me from about 10 feet away.

"What?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and shrugging my shoulders at them. "What did I do to you?"

They released two ear-piercing shrieks and started hurling plastic balls at me at top speed. I cursed loudly and shielded myself with my arms, the balls bouncing off me but pelting me nonetheless. I started moving forward, pushing the surprisingly thick mass of balls around me like Moses parted the Red Sea, but I didn't get far before I was pummeled by little bodies. I could barely see, but the two devils had ambushed me, one of them hidden under the surface and locking my shins and the other clung to my back. All the while, I was still under intense fire from all sides.

The weight on my shoulders was released suddenly, and I quickly realized that Jack, who was rallying some weird Indian war cry, had thrown the kid off of me. I turned around in time to see him lift his arms in success, then scream like a baby as half the army that'd been after me shifted to him in unison. Relieved from the brutality upon myself, I started forward to him, but he pointed up at the chair defiantly.

"ALEX, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING. KEEP GOING YOU IDIOT."

And with that, I turned around and ran through the ball pit at full force. In the same way I'd run through the waves at the beach, my knees provided the most power, sending all the balls flying away from me as I jogged through. Reaching the end, I climbed up the inflated barrier and up to the chair, swiftly taking the bright red ball in my hand. I ripped off the note and stuffed it in my front pocket, not wanting to risk a rascal pulling down my pants and the note with them.

I reached Jack again as he wrestled a little blonde girl who was blinding him with her hands from his shoulders. He flailed his arms behind him to get her, but a swarm of kids jumped his legs and tore him down when he least expected it. With a shriek he was down and disappeared under the mass of multicolored balls. I quickly reached out for him and hoisted him up, sending the little girl and her vice grip down as he stood. And with that, we ran for it.

About 10 kids were chasing us madly like a swarm of bees as we ran through the Kids Room. The mob attracted the attention of Prehistoric Snape, who bellowed and cursed at us as we hightailed it out of the room, narrowly escaping as a shipment of some more kids were thrown through the doors by two parents. We didn't start running like madmen until we'd reached the lobby again, safe from the reaches of any more satanic children.

And my mother wonders why I don't want kids.

I bent over to catch my breath, Jack slumping into a bench to dramatically find his as well. After a moment of silence, only not really because we were panting so loudly, I dared a glance at him, and he was, as I expected, already shooting daggers at me.

"Hey, I wasn't the evil mastermind behind that." I defended, holding my hands up, palms facing out in surrender.

"I literally thought I was gonna die trying to save you from those demonic creatures. And then I thought I'd have to kill YOU first for turning around and trying to save me saving you." He huffed, shaking his slightly sweaty head in disbelief and frustration.

I grinned, "You're welcome, by the way. I'm secretly your knight in shining armor."

"Well fuck that, my knight in shining armor was being helplessly pummeled by plastic balls and 50 pound children out there. I want a new one."

"No returns, sorry." I stood up straight and fetched the note out of my pocket. "One more to go, Jack, then we can ride our horse out of here and into the sunset."

He groaned loudly and thunked his head against the back of the bench. "What ridiculous and death-defying thing does she expect out of us now?"

I dare you to ask Big T for your next and final message.

I gripped the paper in my hands and closed my eyes shut. "All I know is, Jack..." I sighed and looked up above me, "I think we're in the right place."