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Authors: Haleigh Lovell

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Liam's List (2 page)

BOOK: Liam's List
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All in all, I’d say we
made pretty decent roommates. If I could describe our friendship in
two words, it would be
relaxed
and
chill
.

And our rusted trailer, like all the others,
had become a kind of home away from home.

As the colorful scales, shapely chords, and
sweet melodies fell quickly and easily under Merrick’s fingers, my
thoughts drifted back to Vivian. Then I picked up my phone and
texted her.

What are you doing?

Seconds later, my phone beeped.

Just got out of the shower. Getting ready to
go to class. What are you doing?

I texted back:
Thinking of you.

My phone beeped again.

Me too. I was thinking of you when I was in
the shower.

Smiling, I texted:
Are you still naked?

My phone beeped.

No

A guy could only hope. I
texted:
What are you wearing?

My smile widened when I read her reply.

What would you like me to wear?

I closed my eyes briefly. Then my fingers
worked in tandem.

Nothing is more beautiful to me than you
wearing only the sunlight and my kisses.

It must have been a full two minutes before
my phone beeped again.

Sorry, babes. Running late. Gotta go now.
Text you later?

I texted back:
K. Make it dirty.

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Vivian

 

 

 

 

There are four distinct seasons in San
Diego: summer, not quite summer, almost summer, and “Oh, hey,
look! It’s summer again!”

It had only been a month since Liam returned
to Iraq, and summer classes at the U of San Diego were already in
full swing.

And because it was summer, the classes were
smaller and a lot more intimate.

Not exactly ideal for me. I actually liked a
bit of anonymity and preferred larger classes with hundreds of
students packed into huge lecture halls.

As I slid into a seat at the far back of the
classroom, I quickly realized I could forget all about slipping
under the radar.

Here, there were only twelve of us taking
Philosophy of Human Nature, I surmised.

Oh well
. I sighed. I was still looking forward to this course. Dad
once told me I should strive to learn the knowledge of values, not
just facts.

So I was hoping this course would give me not
just a worldview, but also a life view. In short, I wanted to see
the bigger picture.

I had so many questions: What is the essence
of a human being? What is the meaning of human life? What is a good
life? What is a good society? Are there higher laws than man’s
laws? Are we here by chance or design? Are we fated or free? Why do
we suffer? Why do we die? Is there life after death?

Professor Marquez’s booming voice carried
across the classroom. “Your philosophy can quite likely make a
difference and leave a deep imprint in this world. Mother Theresa
and Saddam Hussein were not professional philosophers, but both had
philosophies and lived them and made the world a better or worse
place because of their philosophies. That is how much of a
difference thought can make. As Charles Reade put it: ‘Sow a
thought, reap an act; sow an act, reap a habit; sow a habit, reap a
character; sow a character, reap a destiny.’


Siddhārtha Gautama, or
Buddha as most of you know him,
said, ‘All
that we are is determined by our thoughts: it begins where our
thoughts begin, it moves where our thoughts move, and it rests
where our thoughts rest.’”

Inadvertently, my thoughts
rested on Liam. On his last text.
Make it
dirty.

It was absurd, but I ascribed all sorts of
meaning to it. Did he mean dirty as in get- freaky-in-the-bedroom
dirty? Or did he mean dirty as in
garbage-laundry-dirty-dishes-in-the-sink dirty? I was pretty sure
he meant get-freaky-in-the-bedroom dirty, but then again our texts
had always been so PG, sometimes even borderline NC-17. Did he want
to move into a more R-rated direction? Or MA-rated perhaps? My
imagination went wild with the notion, painting a vivid sex scene
in my mind.

Stop it!
I scolded myself.
Focus.
Focus on the lecture.

Professor Marquez paced
back and forth, an almost predatory quality to his movements. A
lion slinking in his cage. “To those of you who ask what philosophy
has to do with real life, my answer to you is this:
everything.
It is far more important to
know the philosophy of your friends and enemies, of your spouses
and significant others, than their income, social class, or
politics.”

I fell into ponderous silence, wondering what
Liam’s philosophy was, when the professor’s gravelly voice cut into
my thoughts. “How many of you think philosophy is elitist? Show of
hands.”

Nearly half the class raised their hands.


Of course philosophy is
elitist,” the professor barked. “We will be studying and discussing
great minds,
great books, and great
ideas.
If you prefer asinine minds, subpar
books, and idiotic ideas, then this course is
not
for you. In fact, a college
education is
not
for you.”

That got everyone’s attention. Professor
Marquez wasn’t messing around. This guy clearly meant business.


Today’s topic of
discussion is: Do we have free will? Atoms and particles behave in
probabilistic ways. Our mind is made of atoms and particles, so how
can free will exist? This is called the dilemma of determinism. Are
our actions controlled by a causal chain of preceding events? Or
are we free agents making decisions of our own volition? The
implications of our views on it can affect everything from the
small choices we make every day to our perspective on criminal
justice and capital punishment. From the Stoics to Boethius, from
Kant to Hume, from Sartre to contemporary philosophers, scientists
and great minds have puzzled over this debate for millennia, with
no apparent end in sight.”

A guy seated at the front row raised his
hand. “Our mindset is a consequence of our genotype and the
environment. So you can do as you will, but you can’t will what you
will. And studies now show that our brains make decisions before
we’re even conscious of them. So really, we can’t have free will,”
he said in a smooth and confident baritone.


True.” The professor’s
expression went pensive. “Neuroscientist Benjamin Libet explored
the relationship between brain activity and decision making. He
measured his subjects’ brain activity using an EEG and their
muscular activity using an EMG. He asked them to perform certain
small actions, like flexing a finger. And then he asked them
exactly when they decided to perform the action. What Libet
discovered was that their brains registered activity
before
they decided to
perform the action.”


In another study,” the
professor went on, “participants were asked to solve word puzzles
that included words commonly associated with elderly people, words
such as Florida, wrinkled, and gray. When the participants went to
leave the building, they walked toward the elevator more slowly
than others whose puzzles included neutral words.”


Excuse me!” The girl next
to me raised her hand and spoke with a southern twang. “But if we
don’t have free will, then why did we evolve consciousness instead
of zombie minds? And…” Her words began to taper out when she was
interrupted by the rustling sound of a candy wrapper.

Shoot!
That was my candy-wrapper-unwrapping ringtone, a sound not
quite as socially acceptable, but still better than your typical
midi-tune ringtone and tough to pin on me if I’m not holding candy.
The only hitch was no one in class was holding candy.

A few curious glances drifted in my
direction.


Sorry! Sorry!” Hastily
apologizing, I dug through my bag, pulled out my phone, and shut it
off. “My bad.” I suppressed a sheepish smile. “I forgot to switch
it off before class.”


And you are?” the
professor asked, quirking a spidery eyebrow.

Joy
. I’d somehow managed to land myself in the doghouse on the
first day of class. Dread streaked through me, and I had to clear
my throat twice before answering. “Vivian Sorenson.”

Professor Marquez regarded me glacially.
“Miss Sorenson, ask me if I have a problem with students using cell
phones in my classes.”


Um, um…” I found myself
become correspondingly more tongue-tied.

Professor Marquez growled, “Ask me the
question.”

I began worrying the edge of my thumbnail as
I regarded the professor warily. At long last, I murmured, “Do you
have a problem with students using cell phones in classes?”


No,” he snapped. “I do
not. I absolutely forbid the use of cell phones in my classes. If a
student is caught using a cell phone once, his grade for the course
is automatically reduced by a full interval. If he is caught using
a cell phone a second time, he automatically fails the course.
Consequently, I don’t have a problem with students using cell
phones in my classes. Do I make myself clear?” His words were
addressed to the entire class, but his basilisk glare was fixed on
me.


But…” My own smile
faltering, I ventured. “Technically, I wasn’t
using
my cell phone. It rang. I
didn’t answer. I switched it off immediately.”

Professor Marquez fell silent for a long
moment. “Fair enough,” he said at last. “So tell me, Miss Sorenson,
what were we discussing before we were so rudely interrupted by
your jarring cell phone?”

Without missing a beat, I replied, “Free
will. If it can exist.”

The professor shot me another one of his
wintery stares, raising the temperature in the classroom two
degrees or so. “And your thoughts?”

I shifted uneasily in my seat. Then I
remembered what Liam had said when I’d casually mentioned I was
taking my very first philosophy class. He said, “Invoke Socrates.”
In other words, employ the same logical tricks used by Socrates—to
call everything into question. After all, if science is the search
for better answers, then philosophy is the search for better
questions.

Professor Marquez scowled,
making no effort to hide his smug contempt. “We don’t have all day
here, Miss Sorenson.” His voice grew thin with impatience.

Tick-tock, tick-tock,
tick-tock.

Taking a deep breath, I met the professor’s
gaze steadily. “The problem of free will is a problem of
definition, not of answering the question. So how do we define free
will? Everything in the universe obeys physical laws, including
human beings. We don’t have supernatural abilities that allow us to
act in ways that do not derive from preceding states of the
universe. However, we experience the act of making decisions;
therefore, free will is an experiential statement, not a physical
statement. We have free will because we experience freely making
decisions. The fact that our conscious brain has little to do with
those decisions is, in my humble opinion, totally irrelevant. And
really, we can’t choose the reasons we choose, lest we fall into an
infinite regress of choosing reasons for choices, which would mean
we have all been making choices since before we were born.”

Clearly, I was talking out of my ass, but I
thought it sounded pretty good, if I might say so myself. Anxiety
swirled in my belly as the professor fixed me with an eagle glare.
Under his scrutinizing gaze, my skin began to prickle and my
confidence waned. Truth be told, I was afraid he’d call me out in
front of the class and yell, “Bullshit!”

Come to think of it, the professor didn’t
look like the sort of man who’d use layman expressions the likes of
“bullshit.”

He’d probably say “bovine fecal matter” or
“male-cattle excrement.”

Pretentious prick.

There was a long pause. It seemed to go on
for eternity. Eventually, he resumed pacing about the room and
moved on to his next prey.

Relief sighed through my body.

The southern belle next to
me leaned in and whispered, “
Halle-freakin’-llujah
. That was
totally a
Legally Blonde
moment.”

Smiling in return, I said, “Thanks… um, I
think.”

At the end of class, Professor Marquez
informed us that we’d have to write a paper on free will.

I almost fell off my chair.

What is this
fuckery?

An assignment? On the very first day of
class? Just kill me now and get it over with.

Evidently, I wasn’t the only grumpy cat in
class since all I could hear was the low moans and groans drowning
out the professor’s voice.


Listen up, class.”
Professor Marquez snapped his fingers and raised his voice amidst
the cacophony. “Your assignment should be twenty to thirty pages
long.”

Shutting my textbook with
deliberate force, I exclaimed inwardly,
Ha! Twenty it is, then! And I’ll make the font bigger and
margins smaller.

Chapter Three

 

 

Vivian

 

 

 

 


I’ll have
t
he double ristretto, venti, half-soy,
nonfat, decaf, organic chocolate, iced vanilla, double-shot
gingerbread Frappuccino with whipped cream, upside down, double
blended, with one Sweet’N Low, and one
Nutrasweet
,” Chelsea informed the
Starbucks barista, who also happened to be our good friend,
Katie.

BOOK: Liam's List
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