Chapter 150: Book 3 Chapter 6.2: Frizzled Love

“Okay, for a little help with the confidence angle, we just need to employ a classic technique,” Vell said. “What you need is a wingman. I got your back, Freddy.”

“I, uh...I don’t want you to be my wingman.”

Vell stopped in his tracks and tried not to look hurt. It didn’t work.

“Okay. Up to you. No problem.”

“It’s not, you know, a personal thing,” Freddy said. “You’re just very tall, and that makes me feel even shorter and less confident.”

“Oh, okay. Totally understandable,” Vell said. “Who’s up next, then? Kim, you could wingbot.”

“How am I supposed to look cooler than a robot?”

“Understandable,” Vell said. Being a good wingman meant not overshadowing the man you were winging for. “Hawke?”

“He’s got those cool face tattoos,” Freddy said. “All I got are freckles.”

“Less understandable,” Vell said. “Okay, Samson, then.”

“He’s got a twin, that’s inherently interesting.”

Vell rolled his eyes and relented.

“Alright, fine, Lee can wingwoman, then,” Vell said, through clenched teeth.

“But she’s-”

The look in Vell’s eyes stopped Freddy dead in his tracks, before Vell took a deep breath and calmed himself down.

“Continue.”

“She’s just very fashionable,” Freddy said. “And I’m in this dumb lab coat.”

“Freddy. I understand your concerns,” Vell said. “But it’s kind of hard to hype you up if you won’t even hype yourself up.”

“I just don’t feel like I have a lot to hype,” Freddy mumbled.

The lack of self confidence was not surprising to any of them, but it was frustrating. Freddy had always lacked a strong sense of self-esteem, but that lack had never become a real obstacle before now.

“Is this the part where we do a makeover?” Kim asked.

“What? Why would we do a makeover?”

“After suffering a series of setbacks and self-confidence issues in a romantic pursuit, you’re supposed to do a makeover,” Kim said.

“Are you watching romcoms in your brain?”

“Thirty of them, yes,” Kim said. One of the many advantages of having a supercomputer for a brain. She could be watching a movie, or dozens of movies, whenever she wanted.

“Focus,” Lee scolded.

“I am focusing, this is research,” Kim said. “I have more processing power than this entire campus put together, I can watch some movies and help my friends at the same time, Sandra.”

Kim’s digital face flickered blue for a second and then shut off completely as she tried to hide her shame. Lee crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“Sandra?”

Kim’s face turned back on, bright red this time.

“Sandra Bullock,” Kim mumbled. “She’s in a lot of romcoms.”

“You do sort of look like her,” Vell said.

“It’s a passing resemblance at best,” Lee said. “Again, focus! We’re here to try and help Freddy.”

And prevent an apocalypse, but they were doing a good job of multitasking. Freddy was too preoccupied getting relationship help to advance his work on the particle tracker, and the experiment was going nowhere fast. Lee held on to that thought. They were at least succeeding in preventing the apocalypse, no matter how badly they were failing at getting Freddy a date.

“Isn’t Harley the seduction expert here?” Samson asked. “Why aren’t we making her help?”

“She-”

Lee stopped herself mid-sentence and glanced at Freddy. He might be offended that she had actively refused to help.

“-had something else to do,” Lee said. “Maybe we can ask again later. For now, I think we’re due for at least one more attempt.”

“Okay, anyone got any brilliant ideas?”

“I have a bad one,” Lee said. Specifically, one pulled from the annals of terrible rom com history.

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“This is going to end in disaster,” Freddy mumbled. No one was around to hear him, at least physically. A microscopic earpiece electronically carried his words all the way to Lee’s dorm, where the whole gang was waiting. Only Vell was manning the radio, as decided by popular vote.

“You agreed to it,” Vell said. “And you can un-agree to it any time.”

“I’m worried about getting halfway through it and changing my mind,” Freddy said. Having somebody coach him through an earpiece was such a stupid trope he almost felt insulted.

“Then leave now or forever hold your peace,” Vell said. “Seriously, she’s like, around the corner, now’s your last chance to bail.”

Freddy did consider bailing, but he was already halfway around the corner and he’d look like an idiot if he turned around now. Against his will, Freddy committed to the bit and kept walking towards Goldie. She had her eyes locked on some calculations on a computer screen, but paused her work to look up at Freddy and smile.

“Alright, just like we planned,” Vell said. “Tell her you finished up what you were working on, and so you came to see her.”

“Hello Mr. Frizzle,” Goldie said, oblivious to the hidden conversation in his ear. “What’s up?”

“Well, I just finished focusing the electron tracker lenses, so I had some time,” Freddy said. “I thought I’d see what you were up to.”

“Well, I have a set of calibration data you could double-check,” Goldie said. “If you think it’s necessary. Though I think you’ll find my work is perfectly accurate. I’m no Gage.”

“Oh oh, this is good, say something mean about Gage,” Vell interjected. “But not too mean. Comment on his academic failings.”

“Yeah, you’re no Gage, I can trust you to do a vectored anti-magic sweep,” Freddy said. Goldie actually chuckled at that, for reasons incomprehensible to any of the loopers. They took the progress where they could get it.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Alright, now lean in, get comfortable,” Vell advised. Freddy leaned on the table, and though his posture was still stiff and awkward, he forced himself to relax at least slightly.

“You are surprisingly good at this,” Lee said to Vell. “When did you get so flirtatious?”

“I think it’s always easier doing it for someone else,” Vell said, shrugging off the compliment.

He shifted his focus back to Freddy. “Alright, now change the subject. Tell her you’re not here to talk about work, you’re here to talk to her.”

“I actually just wanted to talk to you,” Freddy said.

“Oh, okay, sure,” Goldie said. “Just let me finish up my experiment here. Got to do some quick electron pulses to make sure everything’s right.”

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

“Uh, Freddy, hang back a bit,” Hawke said, leaning into the mic. “That earpiece is pretty tiny and sensitive. With parts this small, those pulses could- Freddy?”

The group waited in complete radio silence, and got no response.

“Uh oh.”

“No worries,” Hawke said. His telecom expertise reared its head once again. “The radio should get back to normal as soon as the pulses are over, and the equipment will be just fine. It should only take a few seconds.”

A quick burst of static proved Hawke correct almost as soon as he was done talking.

“Guys?”

“Freddy, be cool, keep making small talk.”

“Uh…”

Vell put a hand on his face.

“Freddy. Are you still with Goldie?”

“No.”

“What did you do, run away?”

“Yes.”

“Freddy, it was five seconds!”

“I panicked, and told her I had to do something.”

“Oh, Freddy, you were doing so good,” Vell moaned. “We can fix this, though, it’s only been a few seconds, we can get back in there.”

Freddy thought about it for a second, and shook his head.

“I need a break.”

“Freddy, come on, we can still-”

The communication came to an abrupt end as Freddy reached into his ear and shut down the microscopic communicator. He really hoped he hadn’t broken the tiny thing, but he didn’t want to talk anymore. Not to them, at least. He needed to talk to an expert.

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“You got to stop just grabbing shit, little dude,” Harley scolded. “You keep scuffing up your pinchers.”

Botley sat on the outskirts of Harley’s workbench, with no hands on the ends of his tiny arms, watching Harley work with two beady round eyes. With some rare spare time to spend, Harley was trying to give Botley a little TLC, and repair and upgrade some of his parts while she could. She had made some good progress already, but was still frustrated, and not at all surprised, when someone knocked on her door.

“Harley? Are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Harley said, though she rolled her eyes as she did so. “Come on in, Freddy.”

Freddy let himself in, only taking two steps inside before he stopped in place. He’d been in Harley’s room dozens of times, but he was still inherently nervous to be in a girl’s room.

“What’s up, Frizzman?”

She already knew the answer, but Harley had to ask anyway. To be polite moreso than to cover up the time loops.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard-”

“I’ve heard,” Harley said. “Lee’s been texting me updates.”

“Oh. So, I hate to ask, but can you help me?”

“Not really.”

Harley continued working on Botley’s graspers, and did not look up at Freddy.

“Please?”

“Freddy, you’re a grown man,” Harley said. “You’ve got to do your own flirting. Can’t just stand around and wait for the girl you like to suddenly realize she loves you. Didn’t work on me, won’t work on her.”

Harley returned her attention to her robotics, until the silence lingered just a little bit too long and she turned back to Freddy. He looked like he’d just been punched in the gut.

“You knew?”

“Freddy, you spent two years turning red every time you looked at me, of course I fucking knew.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“What would I have said?” Harley asked. “There’s no good answer to a question you aren’t even asking, Freddy.”

“A simple ‘I’m not interested’ would’ve been fine,” Freddy said. “Anything! What’s so wrong with me that you can’t even turn me down?”

Harley put her tools down, crossed her legs, and turned her chair towards Freddy.

“Do you want the answer to that? Because there is an answer, and you’re probably not going to like it.”

For some reason, Freddy felt like he had a gun to his head. In spite of her sharp words, there was no hostility in her voice or in her eyes. If anything, she looked sad. Freddy bit his tongue and bit the bullet.

“Sure. Tell me.”

“Alright. Frederick Froilan Frizzle, your problem is not that there is something wrong with you,” Harley said. “Your problem is that you think there’s something wrong with you.”

Harley grabbed one of Botley’s hands off the desk and started sanding down a rough edge, to make it operate smoothly again. Unlike Freddy, Botley’s problems were simply mechanical. That was why she liked dealing with them better.

“I actually really like you. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re even kind of cute, in a dorky way,” Harley said. Brief flickers of hope sparked in Freddy’s eyes, but then Harley kept talking. “Your problem is that you don’t like you. So you fixate on getting a girl to like you, because you think that’ll prove you wrong. If ‘she’ likes you, that’ll make you like yourself. But it won’t.”

Harley finished her work and reattached the hands to Botley’s frame. The tiny robot walked over to the side of the table, grabbed on tight, and tried to dangle off the edge. Tried to, anyway. He fell and hit the ground after a few seconds. Harley sighed. Not all of Botley’s problems were mechanical.

“You can’t expect anyone to love you if you don’t love yourself first, Freddy,” Harley concluded. “You want a successful relationship, you need to be thinking about how you can make the other person happy, not just how they can make you happy.”

Freddy waited for more of a lecture, but Harley was done. He took his glasses off, toyed with them nervously for a moment, and then put them back on.

“I...I guess you’re right,” Freddy said.

“Yeah. And let me bookend all this by reminding you, Freddy, you are awesome,” Harley said. “You’re super smart, and you have literally saved lives on multiple occasions. You just need to stop doubting yourself.”

“I’ll try,” Freddy said. He was looking down at his feet, which didn’t strike Harley as a good start.

“Hey, chin up,” Harley said.

“I know, I know, I was just thinking,” Freddy said. “And I’m, uh, sorry. I think I’ve spent too much time pining over you instead of actually appreciating who you are, and not really being a good friend.”

“Well, if these past two years have been you being a bad friend, I look forward to you being a good one,” Harley said. “Because you kick ass.”

“Thanks, Harley,” Freddy said. “I’m, uh, going to go now.”

“Please do, we’re getting diminishing returns on how wholesome this conversation is,” Harley said. She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on his freckled cheek. “Now get the fuck out of my dorm.”

Freddy got out.

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“Well, we’re past the point of the world ending,” Lee said, as she checked the time. “Guess everything went off without a hitch.”

After his conversation with Harley, Freddy had returned to the lab to call off his experiment entirely. Apparently he had claimed that, like many things, the particle tracking device needed a lot more work to really be ready. For the ninety-nine percent of his department who had not at all been involved in the day’s drama, that statement was completely incomprehensible and had made most of them upset. Lee appreciated the sentiment, though.

“Good evening, various dramatic bitches,” Harley said. She took a seat and plopped Botley’s new, fully reworked frame on the table in front of them. Botley struck a few poses for his admiring audience.

“I see you’ve been productive,” Lee said. “Good work with that. And with Freddy.”

“Eh, I just had to talk straight with Freddo for a bit,” Harley said. “He’s a solid dude. Just needs to strengthen his core.”

“He needs to do ab workouts?” Kim asked.

“Metaphorical core, Kim,” Harley said. Kim updated the glossary in her head.

“I wish we could’ve started with that,” Samson grunted. “But as long as the dude learned his lesson.”

“Well, he’s learned ‘a’ lesson,” Harley said.

“What?”

“The self-confidence thing is only half the problem with Goldie,” Harley said. “Freddy’s going to learn the other half on his own. As are the rest of you, from the sound of how things went.”

“Okay, I’m not fucking doing this again,” Samson said. “If there’s some other thing going on here, you’re handling it right away.”

“Oh don’t worry, I think it’s already been figured out,” Harley said. “Here comes Freddy now.”

Sure enough, Freddy was ambling through the dining hall, staring dead ahead as he approached the loopers table. He sat down, put his palms flat on the table, and sat silently for about five seconds.

“Freddy.”

“Right. Well. Thank all of you for all the help, guys, really appreciate the effort,” Freddy said. “But it turns out, uh, Goldie’s a lesbian.”

Samson slammed his fists into the table.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“That’s an afternoon we’re not getting back,” Lee sighed.

“Lesson number two, bitches,” Harley said. “Always clock the target’s sexuality before you commit.”

Everyone but Harley let out a deep sigh and sank a little further into their seats.

“You knew the whole time, then?”

“Of course I did, I got a wicked good gaydar,” Harley said. That, and people who were into women tended to check Harley out the first time they saw her, as Goldie not so subtly had.

“Well, I might’ve appreciated some advance warning on that,” Freddy said. “But, you know, romantically or not, Goldie’s still really cool. End of the day, just one more friend.”

“One can never have enough friends, I suppose,” Lee said.

“Eh. I think the friends I got are plenty,” Harley said. She gave a pointed nod in Freddy’s direction, which he returned, and that was the end of that.