You only like white guys?"
"Stop that," I say through gritted teeth.
"What?" he says, getting all serious. "It's the truth, ain't it?"
Mrs. Peterson appears in front of us. "How's that outline coming along?" she asks.
I put on a fake smile. "Peachy." I pull out the research I did at home and get down to business while Mrs. Peterson watches. "I did some research on the hand warmers last night. We need to dissolve sixty grams of sodium acetate and one hundred millimeters of water at seventy degrees."
"Wrong," Alex says.
I look up and realize Mrs. Peterson is gone. " me?"
Alex folds his arms across his chest. "You're wrong."
"I don't think so."
"You think you've never been wrong before?"
He says it as if I'm a ditzy blond bimbo, which sets my blood to way past boiling. "Sure I have," I say. I make my voice sound high and breathless, like a Southern debutante. "Why, just last week I bought Bobbi Brown Sandwash Petal lip gloss when the Pink Blossom color would have looked so much better with my complexion. Needless to say the purchase was a total disaster," I say. He expected to hear something like that come out of my mouth. I wonder if he believes it, or from my tone realizes I'm being sarcastic.
"I'll bet," he says.
"Haven't you ever been wrong before?" I ask him.
"Absolutely," he says. "Last week, when I robbed that bank over by the Walgreens, I told the teller to hand over all the fifties he had in the till. What I really should have asked for was the twenties 'cause there were way more twenties than fifties."
Okay, so he did get that I was putting on an act. And gave it right back to me with his own ridiculous scenario, which is actually unsettling because it makes us similar in some twisted way. I put a hand on my chest and gasp, playing along. "What a disaster."
"So I guess we can both be wrong."
I stick my chin in the air and declare stubbornly, "Well, I'm not wrong about chemistry. Unlike you, I take this class seriously."
"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.
"Stop that," I say through gritted teeth.
"What?" he says, getting all serious. "It's the truth, ain't it?"
Mrs. Peterson appears in front of us. "How's that outline coming along?" she asks.
I put on a fake smile. "Peachy." I pull out the research I did at home and get down to business while Mrs. Peterson watches. "I did some research on the hand warmers last night. We need to dissolve sixty grams of sodium acetate and one hundred millimeters of water at seventy degrees."
"Wrong," Alex says.
I look up and realize Mrs. Peterson is gone. " me?"
Alex folds his arms across his chest. "You're wrong."
"I don't think so."
"You think you've never been wrong before?"
He says it as if I'm a ditzy blond bimbo, which sets my blood to way past boiling. "Sure I have," I say. I make my voice sound high and breathless, like a Southern debutante. "Why, just last week I bought Bobbi Brown Sandwash Petal lip gloss when the Pink Blossom color would have looked so much better with my complexion. Needless to say the purchase was a total disaster," I say. He expected to hear something like that come out of my mouth. I wonder if he believes it, or from my tone realizes I'm being sarcastic.
"I'll bet," he says.
"Haven't you ever been wrong before?" I ask him.
"Absolutely," he says. "Last week, when I robbed that bank over by the Walgreens, I told the teller to hand over all the fifties he had in the till. What I really should have asked for was the twenties 'cause there were way more twenties than fifties."
Okay, so he did get that I was putting on an act. And gave it right back to me with his own ridiculous scenario, which is actually unsettling because it makes us similar in some twisted way. I put a hand on my chest and gasp, playing along. "What a disaster."
"So I guess we can both be wrong."
I stick my chin in the air and declare stubbornly, "Well, I'm not wrong about chemistry. Unlike you, I take this class seriously."
"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.
( Simone Elkeles )
[ Perfect Chemistry ]
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