Friday Morning – Round 2

Waking early, Nick decided to grab himself a shower to start the day. Breaking his proverbial cherry the day before, he figured day two should be easier.

Getting dressed he went upstairs, half hoping, half dreading to find Asha there, but she was nowhere to be found. It was a paradoxical mixture of relief and disappointment. Grabbing a quick breakfast, he left for school.

Because of class rotation, Nick’s schedule for the day was English, chemistry, biology, and a new class history.

“Nick!” he heard his name being called.

Turning back, he stopped when he spied Tom running up to him.

Huffing and puffing, “I thought that was you,” he wheezed.

Nick smiled and nodded, “In the flesh,” he said, spreading his arms.

“I’ll walk with you,” he said, falling in step beside Nick.

Exchanging some minor chit chat the pair made their way to school.

English turned out to be a breeze, the whole class consisting of the first two thirds of the 2007 animated feature Beowulf.

Next up was chemistry. Walking into the class, Nick was greeted by Hester, her voluminous hazel eyes bright and wide. It was obvious to Nick now that he was paying attention to it, she was infatuated with him and he wasn’t quite sure how to set her straight. It wasn’t that she was unattractive, quite the opposite, she was very pretty in her delicate odd way, exceptionally bright, but, it was him, too wounded to allow himself to be vulnerable. Though, as closed off as he was, it was funny how quickly the seeds of friendship had rooted with Tom.

Dropping his books on the desk, she already had some type of experiment partially underway, tubes and beakers and a burner.

“Hi Nick,” she said, turning away from him timorously.

He smiled, “Hester,” he said nodding, looking at the assorted materials on their desk that seemed different from what was on the other students’ desks. “Aren’t we supposed to be doing what everyone else is doing?” he asked, pointing at the chemicals.

Shaking her head, she handed him a duo-tang, “The entire process for today’s instruction is in there, documents, observational notations, everything. This is something else I want to experiment with and Mrs. Dahlgren has given me her assent,” she said, obvious excitement in her tone.

Nick smiled, “Okay,” he said, “What are we going to do then?” he inquired rubbing his hands together.

“Well,” she started, eyes drifting up and to the right, “we are going to do a biochemical analysis of copulins to determine if there is a measurable interpersonal effect or correlational increase in responsivity,” she said, eyes back on him, demure, shy almost but there was something else there. Mischief maybe?

He had no idea what she was talking about, “Okay,” he relied, nodding. “I will be Igor to your Victor.”

“Oh yes I see,” she grinned, “Though there was no mention of an Igor in Shelley’s work,” she said before hustling off to go gather some more materials from the shelving on the far side of the room.

Nick laughed softly to himself, not noticing Roger behind him, leaning forward over the workstation before flicking the back of his left ear.

Whirling around to face Roger, “Touch me again and I swear I’ll knock you the fuck out right here in class,” Nick growled under his breath, lip curled up.

Roger held his hands up, “Easy now Needledick, I just wanted to say I didn’t know you were Asha’s new stepbrother is all,” he said. “You know maybe we got off on the wrong foot and all.”

Nick stared at him hard, unaware that as he and Roger we engaged in their conversation, Scott had slipped in front of Nick and Hester’s desk, Erlenmeyer flask containing a small measure of an orange colored liquid in his hand.

“I mean, fuck dude, you are one lucky sonofabitch! Living in the same house as her,” Roger said appreciatively, though he kept his voice barely above a whisper.

Nick shook his head, “Whatever, don’t ever flick my ear again,” he cautioned, brows narrowed, expression menacing.

Seeing where Nick and Roger were talking, it appeared to Tom that Scott was slinking up with ill intent. Recognizing there was potential mischief was afoot, he got up from his desk, navigating toward them.

“I mean think about it, you could sift through those fine panties of hers anytime you want,” Roger said, closing his eyes and inhaling audibly through his nose.

Lifting the Erlenmeyer flask, Scott tipped it over the beaker, pouring the bright orange fluid into the green liquid.

“Stop!” said Tom loudly, stepping up grabbing hold of Scott’s arm, but it was too late.

The instant the orange hit the green, it went absolutely black and started bubbling as if boiling on a stove.

Hearing Tom, Nick turned suddenly, “What?” he said, eyes catching sight of the fluid roiling in the glass beaker just as the liquid made a whooshing noise and belched out a small but thick puff of acrid black smoke right into the faces of all the three boys.

Jerking back, Nick waved a hand near his face, coughing out soot. The chemical cloud dissipating almost instantaneously.

Similarly, Tom turned and leaned over the sink in the desk and spat out an inky looking substance.

Scott laughed, “Holy shit!” he said, coughing, tarry material staining the back of his hand.

“No!” Hester screamed from across the room, drawing everyone’s attention as she frantically raced back over to the desk.

“What’s going on over there?” Mrs. Dahlgren demanded, coming out from around her desk and looking in the direction of the commotion.

Hester arrived first, eyes darting to the viscous black fluid residue still in the bottom of the beaker then to Scott, “You’ve ruined it you imbecile!” she yelled, emotion in her voice.

 Scott scowled and shook his head, breaking into another fit of coughing. Mrs. Dahlgren arrived, trying to piece together what had just transpired.

“This buffoon spoiled my experiment, pouring in who knows what!” Hester charged, stepping toward Scott and stabbing a slender finger into his chest.

Wrinkling her nose, Mrs. Dahlgren shook her head, leveling her gaze on Scott before looking at Tom and Nick, “Is everyone alright?” she asked.

Tom stood upright, wiping the spittle from his mouth, nodding. Nick too.

“It was just a prank, nobody got hurt,” Scott scoffed dismissively.

Mrs. Dahlgren frowned, “I will not tolerate any further shenanigans in the class Mr. Turcott,” she stated sternly.

“Yes ma’am,” Scott said, saluting.

Whatever had been released was gone as quickly as it had appeared, but it left a bitter aftertaste in Nick’s mouth and tickle in his throat. He tried to clear his throat a few times.

“Are you okay?” Hester asked, leaning in close to him, a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded, “Yeah, fine,” he said, turning his head to give Scott an evil look.

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into an awkward hug, “Okay then,” she said, suddenly disengaging, tilting her head to the side and smiling.

After chemistry, it was biology with the spectral Mr. Wexler. No matter how hard he tried to attune himself to the lesson, he found he just couldn’t connect. Tom seemed to be in about the same condition. He was enthused for history, but like biology, he just seemed to lack the ability to mentally focus on it, that lingering essence in his system. He was glad by the end of the school day.