The narrator’s voice, a soothing baritone, introduces a family of meerkats and I settle farther back into the couch. I exhale.

I always liked this show. It reminds me of science class, back when it was mapping constellations and playing with baking soda volcanoes. Just a few minutes of sweeping nature imagery paired with quick trivia, and it’s like I’m back to that time of building simple circuits that illuminate tiny lightbulbs and planting beans in plastic cups so you can see the roots grow.

Back before science became about complex physics equations, endless problem sets and tedious lab procedures. Not that those aren’t important, but they’re not what I fell in love with.

Or at least, I thought I fell in love with it. But I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite so passionate as Braden, Brett and Sara seem to right now. They gawk at the screen, and I’m surprised no one is drooling.

The meerkat segment ends and the screen pans over a river of lava, pooling from a volcano. A segment of black lava rock caves from the pressure and starts to flow through the red liquid.

Sara watches with tears in her eyes. “It’s just so beautiful.” She begins to cry softly.

“I know,” Brett says. “And we’re destroying it.” He shakes his head. “It’s a damn shame.”

I want to ask—if he really feels so strongly, why he uses his mind and skills to make a stupid app instead of working on some sort of green technology?

But who am I to talk? I’m here to work on an app that helps people rate each other, not exactly the kind of social problem I dreamed about trying to solve with computer science when I applied to Warren.

By the time we roll into the second episode, Sara’s eyes are starting to flutter shut. Her hair is disheveled, strands running like yellow streaks across her face, and there is a slight smile on her lips.

Braden gets up from his chair and takes a seat close to her on the couch.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Good.” She smiles sleepily.

“Doesn’t your skin feel so weird?” he says.

“Whatcha mean?”

“Like...feel.” He runs his finger across her arm delicately.

She giggles. “That’s bizarre.”

I swallow, my stomach in knots, and turn toward the TV.

“The Lion stalks its prey, lying dormant and undetected in the grass until the gazelle is vulnerable.”

“Hey!” I say, standing up as I turn back to the group. “How about we listen to some music?”

“That sounds great!” Sara perks up, leaning forward to the edge of her seat, away from the arm Braden had slipped around her.