I am 15 chapters ahead on my patreón, check it out if you are interested.
https://www.patréon.com/emperordragon
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Chapter 52: Tactical Romance and Philosophical Cafeteria Debates
The cafeteria was at its usual weekday hum: laughter, trays clattering, overworked staff shouting orders, and the occasional shriek of someone who discovered something unidentifiable in their food. Jon, Terry, and Alex sat at their usual table by the windows. The spot had decent lighting and, more importantly, gave Jon a good view of the chaos while maintaining a thin illusion of distance from it.
Jon had just taken a bite out of his chicken sandwich when Alex dropped a verbal grenade on the table.
"I still think consciousness can be entirely explained by neuroscience. Eventually."
Jon raised an eyebrow mid-chew. "Eventually? You mean when we've replaced half our brains with circuit boards and uploaded Freud to the cloud?"
Alex rolled her eyes. "No. I mean through actual biological study. MRI mapping, neurological pattern recognition. We'll understand how subjective experiences arise from physical processes."
Jon smirked, wiping his mouth. "You're assuming subjective experience does arise entirely from physical processes. Consciousness isn't just about neurons firing. It's about how it feels to be you. That part—the qualia—isn't just data. It's experience."
Alex tapped her fork against her tray. "Oh, here we go. Another 'hard problem of consciousness' monologue incoming."
"It is a hard problem," Jon replied, leaning back. "I'm not saying it's magical. I'm saying reductionism only gets you so far. You can describe everything that happens in the brain when someone eats chocolate, but it'll never capture what it's like to taste it. We can't upload flavor, the experience."
"Just because we don't understand it yet doesn't mean we can't," Alex countered.
Terry, meanwhile, was in a completely different dimension—one where consciousness didn't matter and emotional resonance was dictated by hormones and a pair of eyes.
Jon followed Terry's distracted gaze to a table two spots over. A petite Asian girl sat with her friends, laughing at something on her phone. Jon turned back to see Terry half-chewing a fry while staring dreamily at her.
"Terry," Jon said, snapping his fingers in front of his friend's eyes. "Earth to linebacker. You with us?"
Terry blinked. "Huh? What? Yeah. Chocolate. MRI. Ghosts. I'm here."
Alex snorted. "Definitely not."
Jon raised an eyebrow. "Okay, bud, care to explain why you've been eye-locked on that girl for the last five minutes?"
Terry's ears reddened immediately. "I wasn't staring."
"Dude, if you stared any harder, she'd combust," Jon deadpanned. "Come on, spill. Who is she?"
Terry sighed, clearly defeated. "Her name's Suki. We're in AP History together. We sit next to each other."
Alex leaned in with a mischievous grin. "And?"
Terry groaned. "And I like her, okay? She's smart. She's funny. She has this little way of rolling her eyes when the teacher says something dumb…"
Jon put a dramatic hand over his chest. "Ah, young love in the social studies aisle. So, what's the holdup? Ask her out."
Terry frowned. "I tried flirting a few times. Dropped a couple jokes, complimented her notes, stuff like that. But she never noticed. Like, not even a glimmer."
"How can someone not notice when someone's flirting?" Jon asked aloud.
Alex suddenly choked on her drink.
Jon blinked. "You okay?"
She coughed and waved him off. "Fine. Just—wrong pipe."
He handed her a few napkins and raised an eyebrow, but she avoided his gaze and focused very, very hard on her salad.
Terry leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I just feel like… if she didn't pick up on the hints, then maybe she's not interested."
Jon shook his head. "Or maybe your hints just suck. No offense."
"None taken. That's fair," Terry admitted.
Jon leaned back, looking thoughtful. "Look, you can't keep orbiting her like Pluto. At some point, you've got to move into Mars territory."
Alex blinked. "That metaphor is so scientifically inaccurate, I'm getting a rash."
"But emotionally accurate," Jon countered. "Point is, you need to be clear. Be confident. Make a move."
Terry glanced toward Suki again. "Like, right now?"
Jon's eyes widened. "No! What are you, a rom-com protagonist with no impulse control? You don't ask someone out while they're chewing on a chicken nugget."
Terry relaxed. "Right. Yeah. Of course."
Jon leaned in, dropping his voice. "You wait for the moment. After class, when it's just the two of you packing up. Casual. Smooth. Keep it chill, but intentional."
"Got it," Terry said, nodding like a soldier receiving a briefing. "What if I freeze?"
"You won't," Jon said. "But if you do, imagine her laughing at your joke. Use that to center yourself."
Alex, finally composed, raised an eyebrow. "You've clearly thought about this too much."
Jon gave her a sly grin. "I have a lot of free time."
Alex narrowed her eyes. "Uh-huh."
Terry leaned back and sighed. "Thanks, man. Seriously. I needed the push."
Jon clapped him on the back. "Anytime. That's what teammates are for."
As they finished up their lunch and headed toward class, Jon felt something settle inside him—not closure, but movement. Helping Terry had pulled him out of his own head for a bit. And watching someone else wrestle with uncertainty reminded Jon how unpredictable life could be. Love wasn't a straight line. It was more like a football game—fast, chaotic, and sometimes you took a hit, but you kept going.
And sometimes, just sometimes, there's a touchdown.