Love in the Chemistry Section

Flash fiction by Christine Boatwright

Jack’s fingers fumbled inside his backpack until they pinched the edge of a cracker. He prayed the librarians wouldn’t catch him snacking in this dark corner of the third floor. With his chemistry final in the morning, he couldn’t waste time on a real dinner.

Crumbs littered the diagram of a molecule. He shouldn’t have waited to study until the night before. His scholarship depended on this grade.

The study carrel shuddered when someone dropped a heavy book on the adjoining desk. A shushing hissed from across the silent third floor. People got cranky during exam week.

“Sorry!” came a feminine whisper through the wooden wall. The girl’s chair creaked, and a book cracked open. Moments later, a pen tapped to a steady tempo.

Jack propped his forehead on his fist and tried to memorize the diagram. Was it benzaldehyde? Or maybe benzoic acid? The printed words bounced out of focus when the girl kicked her desk leg in rhythmic beat to the pen tapping.

Great. Just what he needed—an annoying desk buddy. Another cracker disappeared.

Who was he kidding? His struggle to focus wasn’t because of this girl. Poor planning had cost him another chance to run into Caroline. She and her roommate met for dinner at 5:45 on Tuesdays, so Jack tried to be there too. He always managed to snag a nearby table, dreaming of the day he’d actually talk with her.

Biology 101 had been their first class together, but with more than three hundred freshmen filling the auditorium, he hadn’t gotten up the nerve to introduce himself. Instead, he’d watched other guys chat with Caroline, yet she always left with her friends, not one of the admirers.

A different approach was in order, one his roommate called “stalking”. Jack liked to think of it as biding his time, collecting data. His research continued, as they now had organic chemistry together.

He should have made a move already but couldn’t shake the nerves from being the bookish high school kid rejected by the two girls he’d ever asked out. If he was lucky, Caroline would have a soft spot for nerds like him. She was a pre-pharmacy major, after all. Surely they had a lot in common.

With a sigh, he scribbled his initials and Caroline’s on the wall of his study carrel then rolled his eyes. What was he doing? The spit on his thumb only smeared the initials but didn’t erase them.

A more insistent beat shook his desk and sent his pen clattering to the floor. What was this girl’s problem?

The pen had landed by a pair of scuffed, green Converse under the desk space he shared.

His heart donkey-kicked his chest. He knew those shoes, had watched them carry Caroline across the cafeteria. Even her shoes were cute.

Flight—not fight—took over, and he jerked upright, clonking his head on the underside of the desk. She was sitting right there. His fingertips prodded his injured scalp but stopped when he saw his desk.

Oh no, the graffiti. The smudged initials stood out like a neon sign. Once again, they didn’t budge even with a thorough spit-shine.

Should he talk to her? No, she was studying, probably for the same exam. She wouldn’t want some guy bothering her. Leaving might be the best option.

His feet propelled him from his chair. Caroline’s bun of knotted blonde hair came into view. She didn’t look up, but the bun bobbed in rhythm. A pair of headphones covered her ears, which explained the foot and pen tapping. Jack froze when those brown eyes connected with his.

Caroline’s eyes widened.

He blinked—twice—and then collapsed into his chair.

The voice in his head, which sounded a lot like his roommate’s, demanded he quit being a coward. He should say something. Yes. No? She was here to study, right? Maybe he could introduce himself, but not, like, hit on her. He’d just say hey.

A fortifying breath gave him an ounce of courage. He inched around the desk wall. She’d removed her headphones. “Hey,” he whispered.

Caroline looked down at her textbook, page turned to the same diagram as his. “Hi.”

An irritated growl issued from the next table.

She leaned closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was back here. Am I bothering you?”

Her vanilla scent tangled with the musty smell of old books. Man, she was pretty. “No, I wasn’t getting much studying done anyway.” He tried for an easy grin. “I’m, uh, Jack, by the way.”

“I know. I’ve seen you around the dining hall.” Her smile came into full view. “And you’re in my organic chem class, right? I’m Caroline.”

“Yeah, I—I definitely know.”

Pink dusted her cheeks.

Great. Now he sounded like a creep. Why couldn’t he just be cool? He swallowed hard. “Uh, what do you do with a sick chemist?”

A line creased between her brows.

He’d dug this hole, so he kept on digging. “If you can’t helium and you can’t curium, you might as well barium.”

Caroline’s hand covered her mouth but she couldn’t hold back a giggle. Jack grinned. He’d actually made her laugh.

The student from the other table stood. “Can you take your flirting somewhere else?”

Caroline shoved her hands into her hoodie pocket. “Sorry.”

What was this guy’s problem? Jack held up his hands. “Relax, man.”

As the student slunk away, a shy grin spread across Caroline’s face.

This was his chance. One more breath and he went for it. “Hey, since we’re working on the same chapter, want to grab a study room and tackle this thing together?”

Surely everyone on the third floor could hear his frantic heartbeat.

She dipped her head. “That’d be great.”

He slid his book into his backpack and offered her a cracker. Their fingers brushed, sending a jolt up his arm. “Good, because we’ve got a lot of chemistry to work through.”