The Chemistry Test

3. lalaloopsies and spotlights

Day Two

I never truly understood Gwyn Ryann Harris. Mark understood her a little too well.

Sophomore year she started sleeping with half the male population of the school, which would have been fine if not for the unfortunate tarnish left on her reputation thereafter.  No doubt, Gwyn was an absolute Lalaloopsie-carefree-doll of a girl, so it truly was a shame that our peers couldn't see past some of her one night stands and meaningless hookups.

I'd heard in the past that people thought we looked alike, Gwyn and I. Both of us were tall and thin in frame, but Gwyn had wider, bonier shoulders, and wore an excessive layer of makeup on a regular basis. Our hair was similar - both thick and choppy - hitting just above the shoulder. Hers was platinum whereas I liked to consider mine golden caramel, and both of our eyes were green, but if you looked close enough you could see hers were more brown. I only remembered this because once she made us compare color to prove it.

The desks in my first period were occupied by the time I arrived to class the next morning. The seat on Mark's right was empty, so I gladly made my way over, tossing my bag onto the ground and plopping down into the desk with an exhale.

It took him a second to realize I was there, but after a moment he abruptly spun around in the middle of Gwyn's sentence and mumbled, "He's here."

"Who?"

"Damon." He bobbed his head, eyes widening. I leaned to the left and, sure enough, there Damon was, sitting in a desk in the far corner of the room in the very back row, setting up his disproportionately large camera.

"He's in this class?"

"Who's in this class?" Gwyn peeped from behind Mark, a curious gleam in her muddy eyes. "Oh, hi, Zoe!"

I managed a slightly less cheerful, "Hey, Gwyn." Even though I was still lingering on the disturbing thought of Damon suddenly switching to this period of English.

"You look really pretty today." Gwyn piped, her smile unwavering as her eyes gleamed with such happiness I would've guessed she was on something.

"Really?" I glanced down at my clothes then back up at her, my smile broadening at the compliment. "Thank you. You, too." She put her hands over her heart and raised her eyebrows as if she hadn't expected the compliment to be returned.

Halfway through the lesson, I started to feel slightly odd, as if someone - or something - was staring at me. I turned in my seat and looked around the classroom, first at Gwyn, who was too busy filing her cuticle-free nails to be paying any attention to the lesson, or to me, then at Damon.  I soon realized that it wasn't me that he had been looking at, but Mark rather.  The camera situated in the empty seat next to him was still fixated on us, its red light causing me to feel self-conscious and out of place. 

After what seemed like a minute or longer of pondering, what finally snapped me back to reality was the fact that the entire class was staring at me with anticipating eyes.  I had just been asked a question.

"Uh..." I started, looking around at the class then at Mr. Nipps, who had his arms crossed over his chest and rectangular glasses perched at the tip of his nose as he awaited my response. I licked my lips and sported an embarrassed smile, "What was the question?"

Starting to feel very nervous and uncomfortable, I curled my toes and swallowed the lump in my throat as Mr. Nipps irritably restated his question.

"What phrase does Mr. Darcy use in the chapter in which he proposes?" He reiterated.

My brain scrambled back to junior year when we read Pride and Prejudice, and after a few seconds found myself drawing a blank. It didn't help that everyone's eyes were focused intensely on me, even Damon, now, who wore a smile of what could have only been pure amusement. I instinctively looked to Mark for an answer, hoping he'd murmur it under his breath or something to help me out. He shook his head and shrugged, obviously having no idea either.