An experiment

As Rachel stepped out of her car and onto the scorching hot asphalt of the parking lot, the bright morning sun seemed to mock her, amplifying her anxiety. The scent of fresh asphalt and hot metal wafted up from the parking lot, mingling with the faint hint of her own perfume. She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of dread that had been building up in her stomach since she received the message from Mr. Yahnerude. She checked her watch, the sleek silver band glistening in the sunlight, and saw that she still had a few minutes before she was due to report to his office. She took a moment to collect herself, smoothing out her blouse and adjusting her skirt, making sure she looked presentable despite the turmoil brewing inside, and began her walk towards the entrance. The sound of her heels clicking on the pavement seemed to echo through the still morning air, a steady beat that matched the racing of her heart. As she approached the door, she reached out to grasp the handle, her fingers closing around it like a lifeline.

As she pushed the door open, a soft whoosh of air-conditioned air enveloped her, a welcome respite from the sweltering heat outside. The glass door swung shut behind her, its hinges creaking softly, and Rachel felt a slight jolt as the door's magnetized lock clicked into place. She stepped into the foyer, her eyes scanning the familiar surroundings - the beige walls, the potted plants, and the reception desk with its burbling fountain. The sound of gentle water and the faint scent of lavender calmed her frazzled nerves, but only slightly. Her anxiety was still simmering just below the surface, waiting to boil over.

As she entered Mr. Yahnerude's office, Rachel's eyes instinctively darted towards the familiar figure behind the large mahogany desk. Mr. Yahnerude, a middle-aged man with a stern expression, looked up from the papers he was sorting, his eyes locking onto Rachel's with an unnerving intensity. The faint scent of old books and stale air wafted out from the office, mingling with the faint hint of Mr. Yahnerude's cologne. Rachel's gaze faltered for a moment, her eyes dropping to the floor as she felt a flush rising to her cheeks.

"So, body issues, huh?" Mr. Yahnerude went straight to the point.

Rachel's eyes snapped back up to Mr. Yahnerude's, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she felt a flush rise to her face as she just nodded.

"Not sure the boys like ya?" he continued.

Rachel felt her eyes drop, her gaze faltering as she stared blankly at the intricate patterns on the Persian rug beneath her feet. The plush fibers seemed to blur and swim together, a chaotic whirl of gold and blue. As she struggled to find her voice, her fingers instinctively clenched into fists, the nails digging sharply into her palms.

"I-I don't know what you mean," Rachel stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mr. Yahnerude leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he studied Rachel with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. His chair creaked softly as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the polished surface of his desk.

"There might be a way to figure out if guys or gals like you more..."