Brent

18

The sun rose and everything fell. The morning started out in Los Angeles, California in 2071 as one October morning normally would: morose and drudging, but wispy and urgent. People flooded the subways and orderly went to work. Tourists snapped photos on their smartphones and posted them on social media to any followers that have never seen the Apple tower before (erected in 2048 and is still the tallest building in the world). The overcast, smog-filled atmosphere had no clear air to puncture it. Then the bombs came.
In the coming years, American-Asian relations diminished considerably. The newly formed Organization of East Asian Nations (or OEAN) brought a new era to the world: for the first time since the twentieth century, the United States was no longer the most powerful military force in the world. President Harrison Warren, elected primarily for fiscal policy, severed relations with the East Asian region through a disastrous United Nations meeting in Yalta. Though only two years into his first term, USA TODAY already named Warren the “Worst United States President of All Time”. Despite OEAN’s attempts for diplomacy, Warren decided against “compromising”. The slogan for his 2072 campaign was “We compromise with neither terrorists or anybody else.” With no other choice, OEAN went ahead with bombing the Los Angeles area with the нетерпи́мый/нетерпи́м and революция девять, effacing all of southwestern United States and northwestern Mexico. World War III started and peace did not come again for another forty-eight years, after millions of casualties.
However, humanity would be given another chance. A higher power, whatever it may be, went back to 2015 and changed one thing: partners assigned in a high school chemistry project. With this change, there was still a possibility that World War III would cease to exist and humanity would cease to suffer.

Alex Swanson tapped his pen on his desk at the back of his Chemistry room. He found that keeping a steady rhythm kept him awake. Alex looked around at his class and made three observations:
The class was half-full.
Mr. Spektor was not in class yet.
Kristi Castelli was not in class yet.
Similar to Woodrow Wilson’s Fourteen Points, the last observation was the only one that Alex cared about. Kristi always came in towards the end of the break between homeroom and first period. Alex narrowed down where her homeroom was to the “100s” or “300s” part of the building.
The door opened. Was it her? No, it was just Ben, Rick, and Micah, walking together as always. Micah had to duck to get under the doorway and Rick cleared the doorway by a good three feet with the confidence of a tall guy.. They walked over.
“I saw Garden State last night,” Ben said, sitting down. Micah and Rick followed.
“Really?” Alex said. “I’m glad. I can’t believe that no one in this state has seen this movie. They kind of have to.What did you think?”
“Oh, it was fantastic, but I hated it.”
“Yeah, me too...what?”
“I mean, Zach Braff was great, Natalie Portman makes me reconsider the Star Wars prequels, but that movie just ruined Scrubs.”
“How?” Alex asked.
“Scrubs went downhill after four seasons, right?”
“Of course.”
“Common knowledge,” Micah said.
“Season four started two-thousand four, season five started two-thousand six, and Garden State came out in two-thousand and five,” Ben said.
“Woah,” Alex said.
“While we’re on the topic,” Micah said, “Pride and Prejudice came out in two-thousand five too.”
“Just leave,” Rick said.
“Not at the table, Micah,” Ben said.
“It’s a good movie!” Micah said.
Alex was about to diss Micah too when Kristi Castelli walked in the room, and all he could do was look. Her olive skin trekked her curvy body, her brown eyes reminiscent of a finely-lacquered wood, and a face both tempting and safe.
Following her was Mr. Spektor, less appealing on all accounts.
“Good morning, everyone,” he said. Mr. Spektor received his tenure this year, making this year the first of two of what teachers call “teacher senioritis”: a year of relaxation for teachers as they celebrate their victory over their town’s Board of Education. Throughout the year, Alex had had to drudge through projects, more projects, the movie Gattaca--twice, and a really weird lecture on how Hillary Clinton’s P.M.S. cycle would make the United States a nuclear war threat if she were elected.
“Today, Thursday, and Friday, we will be doing a project. If we’re not finished by Friday, you’ll have to finish the project over the weekend. You will present on Monday.” Feeling like a linguistics expert, Alex realized that Mr. Spektor at least tries to get himself to do work at the beginning of the project announcement, saying that “we” will do this and “we’ll” do that, but as it goes on, Spektor gets a little more realistic, saying “you’ll” do this and “you” will do that.
“You will be building a volcano.” A steady buzz of approval hummed. “I will assign you a partner for a project.”
“Dibs on Kristi,” Rick whispered, but before Alex could even respond, Mr. Spektor said “Alex, you’re with Kristi.” Alex didn’t know what to think. He became overwhelmed with emotions. At this point, he didn’t even know why he was infatuated with her. He’d never really met her beside the occasional “hello,” so he wouldn’t know her personality. He even made the theory that the hotter the girl is, the less she needs to compensate with a good personality. Therefore, no personality. Even through all that, he couldn’t look at her without being infatuated with her. It reminded him of a poem his old friend Chas wrote. Chas was one of Alex’s friends in high school before he and his family moved. Chas always liked to write poems and Alex liked to read poems, but one in particular always resonated with him. Alex forgot the title but remembered the words verbatim: “I’d always try to make sure I would not be vulnerable towards girls but I’d always end up writing poems about them.” It was just like that, though. His infatuation was a prison. He couldn’t be in the moment when he was picturing an ideal moment. Alex didn’t pay attention to the rest of the names being called. He didn’t pay attention to his mom texting him, asking if he could pick up his brother after school; he didn’t even pay attention to his friends requesting sexual--and legally questionable--acts for Alex to do with Kristi. He could only pay attention to the ideal of him and Kristi and how reality was going to beat the crap out of that ideal.
Alex found himself at the table at the back of the room with Kristi. Ben, Micah, and Rick were towards the front, but that didn’t stop them from simulating the previously said sexual acts on each other. Alex saw it and turned away with a look of disdain.
Kristi looked over to the guys to find them working on their project. “What was that?” she asked.
“What was what?”
“Never mind.... Now, for the ingredients: I think instead of table salt, we should use sodium phosphate if it’s available because it’ll be more explosive.”
“Okay.”
“But the same food coloring and vinegar because those ingredients are vital.”
“Okay.”
“Is there anything you can say other than okay?”
“You can gag me.”
“What?”
“Forgetting Sarah Marshall?”
“Who’s Sarah Marshall?”
“It’s a--it’s a, uh, movie.”
“Oh, okay. Well, that sounds like a weird movie.”
“It’s actually really funny,” Alex said. “The premise is Jason--”
“Hey, sorry, but we need to work on this project.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.”
“Wait, what were talking about again?”
“Gagging me?”
“No,” Kristi said, with just the smallest trace of a laugh. Alex held on to that laugh tightly. “Ingredients.”
“Oh, by the way, I should tell you something.”
“Yeah, I’m not too good at chemistry. Both the subject and with women.” He paused for a laugh. Nothing. At this point, it was difficult for Alex to put together sentences. His wit was substituted with the same cliches and obvious jokes that he would scoff at while watching mainstream comedies at the movie theater. He moved on. “So if you want to lead the project and more-or-less tell me what to do.”
“Actually, how about we work separately today?”
“Will do, sure.”
“You can work on setting up the trees and bushes surrounding the volcano and I can work on everything else?”
“Yeah, totally.”
The rest of the day, all Alex could feel was relief. Knowing that any chance he would have at being with Kristi was gone meant that he wouldn’t need to wonder for the rest of his life “what if”. Now that that chance was fully gone, Alex could move on to all the other girls that were(n’t) lining up for him. But that night, he could not fall asleep. He just couldn’t do it knowing that that day happened and nothing could ever take that day away. Even a nuclear bomb.
Alex walked into class the next day exhausted. Kristi was already at her desk. Even Mr. Spektor beat Alex to class. Alex sat down and tried all he could do not to doze...off.
At the end of chemistry, Alex and Kristi were done with their base and getting their ingredients. It was a better day, but Alex could only think of two words: damage control. Alex walked out of class with Ben, Micah, and Rick, slightly better, very tired.
“I don’t care what you say,” Ben said, “‘Rubber Soul’ is the best Beatles album.”
“Alex?” a voice said from behind. Alex turned around; it was Kristi. “I’m not sure that we can finish this project tomorrow and I have a lot of shit to do this weekend. Can you come over today around six and work on the project with me?”
“Umm, yeah, I think I can make an appearance.”
“Cool. See you then.” She gave him a reassuring arm grab and walked away. Alex wasn’t excited, but more confused. Why would she ask him to go over to her house to work on the project when she didn’t even want him to work with her during school when it was appropriate? Alex turned to the guys, expecting a barrage of comments. Instead he found, six hopeful eyes, waiting for permission to simulate the s.a.l.q.a (sexual and legally questionable acts).
“Go ahead.”

Jim Castelli never liked doing the dishes. He always left the work to Kerry while he agreed to take out the trash and recyclables. He always heard that marriage was all about compromise but would always brush it aside, thinking hey, it’s not all about compromise. Maybe about fifty percent. He was wrong; it really was one hundred percent. Today, though, it was about forgiveness. Jim’s heightened fights with Kerry have stemmed from things such as who will do the dishes or who will pick up Kristi from school. He thought, and she probably thought too, that this added tension between them would stop after Michael went to college. But no, it still happened. On any other day, Jim would scoff at the idea of doing the chore that isn’t his. He would consider it as an apology, that he was wrong and she was right and we would do it her way. Today, he just felt so lonely that he needed affection from Kerry; he remembered how lonely he felt in high school when Vanessa Adams broke up with him and that his eighteen-year old self vowed that when he was married he would give unforgiving affection because he couldn’t stand to live without any. He had to stay true to himself.
Jim was so deep in thought that he almost didn’t hear the doorbell ring. It was that kid Alex probably. After seeing Kristi date for three years and having dozens of boys come over, Jim knew how serious she was about them when she would notify him of the boys’ scheduled arrival. If she didn’t say what his name was at first, she was interested. If she did say his name, she didn’t want it to go anywhere. Today, Kristi told him as soon as he came in. He didn’t even put his briefcase on the kitchen table yet before she walked up to him.
“Hi, dad,” Kristi said. “This kid, Alex, is coming over around seven today to work on a science project with me.”
“Okay. Does he want dinner?”
“No. He said he has an early dinner at his house so he would’ve had it anyway.”
“Well, if he changes his mind, we have a lot of food in the fridge.”
Now, Alex was here. Jim did not look forward to opening the door. It’s not that he didn’t like the idea of Alex, especially since Kristi showed no affection, but also because teenage boys always had a prejudice towards dads. They would always be polite content-wise, but beneath the surface there would be a layer of contempt towards the dads as if fathers were out to get the boys. It makes some sense since some dads were like that, but Jim wasn’t one of them.
Jim took a deep breath and opened the door. He found a kid, kind of tall, with a softness to his face that Jim automatically accepted.
“Hi,” Alex said, offering Jim his hand. Jim accepted. “You must be Mr. Castelli; I’m Alex. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Alex said this so genuinely that Jim almost couldn’t respond.
“Nice to meet you too. I think Kristi’s in--”
“Hey, Alex,” Kristi said. She walked around Jim. “Come on, we’ll go down to the basement.” Kristi disregarded Jim.
“Okay,” Alex said, shaking Jim’s hand again. They walked towards the basement door. Kristi turned around to Jim and he gave her a thumbs up and an “I like him” face, and he wholeheartedly believed it. Maybe he could ask Alex to finish the dishes later.

Alex walked down the sprawling carpeted staircase down to the coolest basement he’d ever seen. The walls were oak, there was a sports bar in one corner, and a seventy-inch tv and leather couch in the other corner. Alex once did a project in elementary school where he would design his dream house, and he swore that this must be an exact replica of that one he drew in brown colored pencil.
“You want to sit on the couch?” she asked.
“Yeah, I guess,” he said. “I mean, where else would we sit?”
“Well there’s the sports bar, but….”
“Good idea. I mean, Hemingway always drank when he wrote and I’m doing the writing log for the project, right?”
“Yeah,” Kristi said, “but this is a science experiment; your observations have to be much more detailed than Hemingway’s.”
How has she read Hemingway? This was not an author that high school girls should know about. Alex was even more taken aback by her easy-going attitude. Maybe it was that this was her familiar territory. Jokes on her because, according to his third grade project, it was Alex’s territory too.
They walked over to the couch in silence, thinking of an appropriate subject transition from twentieth century expatriate authors. They went to the couches to find a stack of papers and equipment there. “Wow,” he said. “You’re all set up.”
“Yeah, I thought it would be good to be prepared so you would actually know how to do.”
“Okay, I get it. I’m that slacker, no real ambition, kind of guy. But, hey. I tried. Now usually I’m awful in math, but in Geometry at the beginning of the year, the first unit I was doing really well. I was studying and picking up on things really fast. I got an a hundred on the test.”
“And how was that bad?”
“Haha, let me finish. Well, the next day of school, my teacher says to us, “Okay, now that we’ve covered last year, we’ll now focus on new material.”
Kristi gave a laugh of comfort that made him glow. She seemed so much more relaxed than when she was in school, her muscles loose, her eyes softer.
“Now, Kristi, we never really got to know each other. You know, because we’re partners.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Umm, Alex Swanson, nice to meet you.” He offered his hand.
“Kristi Castelli.” She shook it. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Not really.”
She laughed. “How not really? I don’t see much ambiguity in that question.”
.”Actually, it’s funny story. My mom wanted a girl so bad that when I was an infant, she would force me to wear a dress, so that probably is the catalyst to my masculinity.”
She laughed. “Okay, Alex.”
“Yeah. Well, actually, I have a little brother. How about you?”
“Well, I have a brother, too.”
“Younger?”
“No, he’s older.. He goes to Cornell now.”
“Cornell? That’s my safety school.”
“Nice.”
“Is he home for break?”
“Umm, no. He left a few weeks ago.”
“Oh, nice.” It was nice. Very nice. “Now that we’re all introduced, we can do the project now.”
“Looking forward to it.”
They took only an hour to finish the project. Kristi walked Alex out to Alex’s car.
“Alex.”
“Yeah?”
“You know Rachel Ackerman?”
“Sure.”
“Well, you know her party Friday?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know that.”
“Are you going?”
“You know, it’s a maybe for me right now.”
“Oh. Well, you should really go.”
“Okay. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.”
“Bye.” She waved. He waved back. When Alex walked into Kristi’s house, he thought that his relationship with her was irreparable. His plan was to be courteous and conservative in his approach and hopefully the project with Kristi concluded that he was okay. Now, Alex not only had a great conversation with Kristi and a possibility--small, but still there--to be with her, but he also had confidence in himself. He never realized how funny he actually was. That drive home was the best one of his life so far.
Chemistry on Friday was uneventful. Because Kristi and Alex were done with their project, they proceeded to talk to their friends who were still working on it. At the end of class, though, Kristi said the three most beautiful words in the English language: “see you tonight”, followed of course, by more s.a.l.q.a. by the guys. Alex asked them to come too and they said they would.
Walking up to Rachel Ackerman’s house, Alex made a series of checks. Was his shirt tucked in? Yes. Was his hair combed properly? Yes. Did he remember to put on deodorant? Well, he’d just try not to sweat. This routine was interrupted by his vibrating cell phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Alex,” Ben said. “ We can’t make it tonight.”
“What? Why?”
“Well, Micah’s dad found his stash of the Pride of Prejudice DVD and, Alex, he’s pissed. Micah has to hide here with Rick and me until this thing blows over.”
“Dammit. Well, as long as Micah’s safe.”
“Alright, man. Have fun tonight and good luck with Kristi.”

Alex walked in to what he would consider a decent house party. Some people in the kitchen, some in the living room, and some downstairs. He walked into the kitchen to find four sophomores and two juniors hanging out near the fridge, all sporting red solo cups. One of them was Kristi. She saw him and immediately walked towards him.
“Alex!” she said. She hugged him. Her breath smelled like liquor but she didn’t seem too drunk. She seemed as easygoing as she did Thursday with him in her basement. “Glad you could make it! Did you bring anyone?”
“No, sorry Ben couldn’t--”
“No, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh, okay.”
“But if you want to hang out with anyone here, we’re all friendly. And, of course, I’m here.”
“Hey, Kristi!” a voice from behind called. They turned around to find a tall redheaded girl in the living room.
“Yeah?”
“We need you.”
“For what?” Kristi asked.
“Come on, we need you!”
“Okay, one second!” she turned back to Alex. “Sorry about that.” She walked away to whatever they needed.
It wasn’t that probable, but Alex hoped that there was a chance that he would hook up with Kristi that night. In his head all day, he tried not to think about it too much, but he most likely would not have worked out or gotten the new clothes if Kristi wasn’t going to go to the party. Luckily, he knew that the chances were slim. Alex turned to the other kitchen partiers, but they didn’t show much of an interest in including Alex, so he walked downstairs.

Alex walked down the stairs to find that Rachel’s basement was much more desolate than Kristi’s. It was the typical flesh-and-bone basement with cold floors, pipes everywhere, and the obligatory washing machine in the middle. This basement was pimped up well, though. Partiers dressed up the basement nice, along with a pong table for decoration. Nervous, Alex walked to a table he found that had drinks on it. At the table, he looked at the couches next to him in a u-shape as if a TV was supposed to be where Alex was. In the middle couch was a slightly older Chas talking to some people. Alex walked over.
“Chas.” Chas looked up and smiled instantly.
“Holy shit, Alex!” Chas got up and hugged him. “Sit down, please, sit down.” Not only did Alex get to meet up with Chas, but he also had somewhere to socialize at the party. Alex sat on the left couch, next to a guy he didn’t recognize and a girl he had music class with in eighth grade. He thought her name was Jennifer but she might go by Jenn. “Alex, this is my girlfriend. Her name’s Alex too.”
Alex shook Alex’s hand, an infectiously cute girl. She looked at her best when she wasn’t smiling, but not to take away from her smile; it was great too. Chas looked so comfortable around her. He knew where to position his body and where to put his hands. It was like he had a steady trigger finger. Before, Chas had a small anxiety attack every time a girl walked past him in the hallway. Now he looked so smooth. So stealthy.
To Alex’s right he saw Jennifer (or did she go by Jenn?), a tall but attractive girl he remembered vaguely from music class in eighth grade. He might have talked to her once or twice but he didn’t remember anything.
“Hey, Jenn,” Alex said.
“Hey, Alex,” Jenn/Jennifer said with a smile. She didn’t object so she probably goes by Jenn.
“How’s music treating you? Helping you out in the real world?”
“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” She was leaning in to him intensely, like every word he said was vital to her existence. “How about you? How’s the band going? Or did you go solo in your triangle career?”
“My what?”
“Your band that you made in music class. No one could forget your triangle solo.” After a few seconds, Alex finally remembered. The final exam for eighth grade music class was that people were in groups of three: one keyboardist, a “drummer” (just one snare), and one triangle player. The objective was to make one two minute song with four beats per stanza and four major chords with a drummer (Micah), keyboardist (Ben), and triangle player (Alex). The drums would keep the beat, the piano would provide the melody, and the triangle would put in a “spark” as their teacher would call it. Alex, however, took that spark and made a forest fire out of it. He had a ninety second triangle solo. Although it was universally praised by critics, their teacher gave them a D+ on the final exam, yet they all still received an A in the class.
“Wow,” Alex said, “I can’t believe you still remember that.”
“Of course.” She was leaning in even further. There was a sudden silence in the conversation, allowing Alex to look around to the rest of the group, whom Alex almost forgot was even there. They all seemed to look at each other like some secret plan was going down.
“Okay,” Chas said. “We’re going to get some drinks. You two can catch up.” At first, Alex didn’t want Chas’ obvious invitation to make out with Jenn/Jennifer. He thought of it as cheating, even if he and Kristi weren’t dating. Then Alex looked at Chas and his girlfriend. Chas used to be a sensitive guy waiting for girls to come around and that got him nowhere. Now Alex was doing the same thing. If Kristi was in the same situation, she would make out with a guy at this party without thinking of Alex. Actually, she might be doing that right now.
“Okay, Chas, I’ll see you around.”
Chas shook his hand and gave him a wink. “See you around.” Alex and Jenn/Jennifer were instantly alone together at the couch, although it felt more like an island. Then they were kissing. Then they were making out. Alex thought back to the last girl he made out with: Becky McGuire. It was the summer and, although his friends did most of the work, he did great conversationally with Becky. Maybe the best conversation with a girl, other than the one at Kristi’s house. Oh, yeah. Kristi.

Sunday morning was different for Alex; he saw even the most ordinary things with delight. His wallpaper. The excellent wifi connection in his house. The Hangover Part II. Then the doorbell rang.
He opened the door, and on the other side was Kristi. Her easygoingness was not there anymore and he was reintroduced to the uptight Kristi from the first and second day of working on the project, which was only four days ago.
“Kristi.”
“Yeah, Alex, I just wanted to come here to say that I heard about you and Jennifer.” So her name was Jennifer. “I liked you. Did you even know that? That’s why I invited you to the party.”
Did she really say that? What could Alex say to that? “I don’t know, Kristi, I mean, then why did you ditch me?”
“I did not ditch you, Alex. They called me over and, well, I went. I probably would’ve come back when I was done talking to them.”
“Well, you should have told me that you liked me. I can’t read minds, you know.”
“But I invited you to the party, though!”
“That’s not enough for me to realize. You have to understand.”
“Okay, but bottom line: what you did was wrong and you crossed a line. I’m going home. Let’s present the project tomorrow and get it over with.” She walked away. Alex went from infatuation to indifference to pity to anger towards Kristi; he had never felt that many emotions towards someone in that short a time span. Throughout the day, Alex justified his stance through the idea that Kristi was just like every other girl: she never says how she feels and always expects the guy to understand it. But at night, again, Alex couldn’t sleep. His perspective slowly shifted into this: Kristi told him that she liked him and he didn’t say he liked her back. If he just said that he liked her, the whole problem could have been averted. Alex got forty-seven minutes of sleep that night.

By homeroom Monday morning, Kristi was ready for the project to be over; a few more months of avoiding Alex and she wouldn’t need to see him anymore. She thought it over walking to Chemistry. The volcano was far too heavy for Kristi that her arms weren’t enough to support it. She had to let the volcano slide to her chest to support it. In order to keep it there, though, she had to lean back slightly, making her back arch too much to the point where it started to hurt.
The walk to the class was almost over. Kristi hadn’t necessarily lost breath, but each one mattered. This almost took her mind off of Alex, until she found him waiting outside of the classroom.
“Hey,” Alex said.
“Alex, you aren’t waiting for me, are you?”
“Yeah. Do you need me to grab that?” he asked. He took the volcano. “Listen, I couldn’t think yesterday when you came over. You know those arguments you have with other people and after the argument, when you’re alone reflecting it, you finally think of a good comeback?”
“You waited outside of class to insult me?”
“Oh, no, not at all. There were just some things that I was feeling that I couldn’t put into words. Now I can.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve had a ‘crush’ I guess you can call it for a while, and I was certain that you didn’t reciprocate those feelings back, especially the first couple days of us working. When you invited me to the party, I thought it would be just as friends, still not thinking we had a chance together. I do like you. I really do like you. Probably even more than you like me. So if you’re not still mad, I’d like to see what happens between–
“That volcano’s heavy, isn’t it?”
“So heavy.” Kristi leaned in. Alex leaned in too. Alex saw that Kristi’s eyes were closed and he closed them too.
“Hey, guys.” Alex opened his eyes back up. He saw that Kristi did too. Then he saw Ben, Micah, and Rick.
“Oh,” Ben said. “You guys were--”
“Yep,” Alex said.
“And we just--”
“Uh huh,” Kristi said.
“Well, we need to go to class,” Micah said, “so we’ll see you in there.”
“Bye, guys,” Alex said. They walked away.
“They’re gay, right?” Kristi asked.
Alex almost laughed. “No, they’re not. Why do you think so?”
“I always see them air-humping each other.” Kristi leaned in again. Alex turned around to make sure the guys were gone then leaned in too and kissed her. Lips. After a few seconds, they pulled back out.
“What was the thing we said before we kissed?” Alex said. “Air-humping?”
Kristi laughed, almost a laugh of relief to release the tension. “Yeah, I just realized that.”
“When our kids ask what led up to our first kiss, this is what we’re going to have to say.” As they walked to the classroom, Alex and Kristi did not understand the significance of that moment, a moment that changed human history. After years of dating and breaking up and dating again, they got married in the fall of 2020. And, in 2022, gave birth to Sarah M. Swanson, who would grow up to be President of the United States, beating Harrison Warren in the 2068 Presidential election. Her incredible talent in foreign relations eased tensions between the United States and the OEAN and evading a third world war.
Oh, yeah. They didn’t tell their kids that.
But, for now, walking towards the classroom, World War III was not an issue. The only threat at hand was the volcano project (that they would get a perfect grade in. Mr. Spektor’s note: “Good Enough”). Alex stared at the door handle and slowly turned the knob.