Let's have a bet, then. If I'm right, you kiss me," he says.
"And if I'm right?"
"Name it."
It's like taking candy from a baby. Mr. Macho Guy's ego is about to be taken down a notch, and I'm all too happy to be the one to do it. "If I win you take me and the class project seriously," I tell him. "No teasing me, no making ridiculous comments."
"Deal. I'd feel terrible if I didn't tell you I have a photographic memory."
"Alex, I'd feel terrible if I didn't tell you I copied the info straight from the book." I look at the research I'd done, then flip open to the corresponding page in my chem book. "Without looking, what does it need to be cooled at?" I ask.
Alex is a guy who thrives on challenges. But this time the tough guy is going to lose. He closes his own book and stares at me, his jaw set. "Twenty degrees. And it needs to be dissolved at one hundred degrees, not seventy," he answers confidently.
I scan the page, then my notes. Then back at the page again. I can't be wrong. Which page did I- "Oh, yeah. One hundred degrees." I look up at him in complete shock. "You're right."
"You gonna kiss me now, or later?"
"Right now," I say, which I can tell shocks him because his hands go still. At home, my life is dictated by my mom and dad. At school, it's different. I need to keep it that way, because if I have no control in every aspect of my life I might as well be a mannequin.
"Really?" he asks.
"Yeah." I take one of his hands in mine. I'd never be this bold if we had an audience, and am thankful for the privacy of the nonfiction titles surrounding us. His breathing slows as I sit up on my knees and lean into him. I'm ignoring the fact that his fingers are long and rough and that I've never actually touched him before. I'm nervous. I shouldn't be, though. I'm the one in control this time.
I can feel him restraining himself. He's letting me make the move, which is a good thing. I'm afraid of what this boy would do if he let loose.
I place his hand against my cheek so it cups my face and I hear him groan. I want to smile because his reaction proves I have the power.
He's unmoving as our eyes meet.
Time stops again.
Then I turn my head into his hand and kiss the inside of his palm.
"There, I kissed you," I say, giving him back his hand and ending the game.
Mr. Latino with the big ego got bested by a ditzy, blond bimbo.
"And if I'm right?"
"Name it."
It's like taking candy from a baby. Mr. Macho Guy's ego is about to be taken down a notch, and I'm all too happy to be the one to do it. "If I win you take me and the class project seriously," I tell him. "No teasing me, no making ridiculous comments."
"Deal. I'd feel terrible if I didn't tell you I have a photographic memory."
"Alex, I'd feel terrible if I didn't tell you I copied the info straight from the book." I look at the research I'd done, then flip open to the corresponding page in my chem book. "Without looking, what does it need to be cooled at?" I ask.
Alex is a guy who thrives on challenges. But this time the tough guy is going to lose. He closes his own book and stares at me, his jaw set. "Twenty degrees. And it needs to be dissolved at one hundred degrees, not seventy," he answers confidently.
I scan the page, then my notes. Then back at the page again. I can't be wrong. Which page did I- "Oh, yeah. One hundred degrees." I look up at him in complete shock. "You're right."
"You gonna kiss me now, or later?"
"Right now," I say, which I can tell shocks him because his hands go still. At home, my life is dictated by my mom and dad. At school, it's different. I need to keep it that way, because if I have no control in every aspect of my life I might as well be a mannequin.
"Really?" he asks.
"Yeah." I take one of his hands in mine. I'd never be this bold if we had an audience, and am thankful for the privacy of the nonfiction titles surrounding us. His breathing slows as I sit up on my knees and lean into him. I'm ignoring the fact that his fingers are long and rough and that I've never actually touched him before. I'm nervous. I shouldn't be, though. I'm the one in control this time.
I can feel him restraining himself. He's letting me make the move, which is a good thing. I'm afraid of what this boy would do if he let loose.
I place his hand against my cheek so it cups my face and I hear him groan. I want to smile because his reaction proves I have the power.
He's unmoving as our eyes meet.
Time stops again.
Then I turn my head into his hand and kiss the inside of his palm.
"There, I kissed you," I say, giving him back his hand and ending the game.
Mr. Latino with the big ego got bested by a ditzy, blond bimbo.
( Simone Elkeles )
[ Perfect Chemistry ]
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