Cowgirls Don't Cry

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - KATIE

As the week wore on, the excitement for homecoming continued to build, with the pep rally on Friday admirably effective in generating school spirit. The whole school was pumped for the game, with the cheerleaders and football team spending the day in their uniforms, the star players heralded by loud cheers whenever they entered a room.

I'd spent most of the week ignoring Zamirah and Tristan, as they did the same to me, while Marina was still away sick. In every class, the teachers were struggling to get their students to focus, with everyone all excited about the homecoming - both the game and dance, and by Friday, even Aimee and Sierra were looking forward to the following night.

"Are you going to the dance, Katie?" Aimee asked, as we conducted our practical experiment for Mr Moray's chemistry lesson.

"I don't think so; I'm not really a fan of all the fancy dresses and slow dancing," I said honestly, pouring a vial of vinegar into our beaker of hot milk, in an attempt to make the 'plastic milk' Mr Moray had been talking about all lesson. "But it sounds fun, I'm sure you guys will have a good time,"

"Well, with Luke and Alex as our dates, it'll be interesting if anything," Sierra laughed. "As long as they don't trip the alarms or spike the punch, then we're good!"

"Wait, Aimee, you're going with Alex?" I asked, smiling as I glanced over at her. She smiled shyly.

"Yeah, he asked me in the hall this morning." she told me, and I grinned.

"That's awesome, you guys would make such a cute couple," Sierra said as she mixed together the hot milk and vinegar. "Anyone remember what's supposed to happen now?"

"Um, hold on," I said, biting my lip and flicking through the textbook. "It says the mixture should start to curdle, separating into solid and liquid,"

"Well, that looks about right, then," Aimee observed, leaning down to inspect the mixture as Sierra stirred it. "It should-"

We were interrupted by a dull clink and pop, followed by the sound of glass shattering onto the laminate benchtop. Everyone glanced over towards the source of the noise, to Alex and Luke's bench on the other side of the classroom. Luke was standing beside a broken beaker, with a look of what could have passed for innocence but for the cheeky look in his brown eyes, while Alex had a hand clapped to his forehead in exasperation.

"You idiot, Luke," Alex sighed. "Cold beakers can't hold hot liquid,"

"Correct, Mr Raine," Mr Moray said sternly, coming over to assess the damage. "They will crack or shatter, as seen in Exhibit A,"

"Coo- I mean, sorry sir," Luke amended hurriedly, pushing a hand through his mess of dark curls. "Won't happen again,"

"I hope not, boys," the teacher frowned. "This is both a health and safety hazard and a poor reflection on your own common-sense and ability to take direction. Please go wash your hands and fetch the sharps disposal container, this will need to be cleaned up,"

"Yes sir," Luke and Alex replied in unison, walking off to the cleaning cupboard and sink on the other side of the lab, with Alex telling Luke off quietly the whole way.

"My goodness," Aimee shook her head as the classroom went back to their work, pouring and measuring and stirring. "They're idiots sometimes, aren't they?"

"I reckon," I laughed, and Sierra nodded.

"Lucky we love them anyway," she quipped, and Aimee chuckled.

"That we do," she agreed. "Almost enough to consent to being seen with them at homecoming,"

Sierra and I laughed, as we continued with our own attempt to create 'plastic milk'.