Chemistry

The Book

Michael

Mia was late, but then again, we never had set plans. Yet still, it bothered me.

I was deep in thought, pacing the roof, when i heard the heavy click of the door. I couldn't see it from where i was standing, but i knew it was Mia.

"Mia this is a real problem. It is imperative that you learn punctuality before you are immersed into the labor force with no guiding hand."
I said quickly before she came into view.

She didn't speak for a few seconds.

"Sorry."
I heard her small voice say.

I walked toward her, and noticed the expected confusion on her face.

"This is a study session... On the roof.... With candles and flowers.... Mr. Clifford...."

Immediately after she finished, I corrected her, as i'm used to, "Call me Michael."

She stared at me for a moment, her nose crinkling and her eyebrows furrowed. Her mouth was agape, but she wasn't speaking. She shook her head and waved her hand.

"I uh, am i missing something...'Michael'"
She put my name in air quotes. My name sounded so smooth coming from her mouth.

"I don't know, is there? As a professor, i'm supposed to challenge you everyday to go deeper into the situation and find the real meaning. The author, or scientists, real meaning and desires. Observe your surroundings, contemplate their meanings, and get back to me with your findings."
I retorted turning to walk away.

"Mr. Clifford, you're supposed to help me with my Chemistry essay... And my Chemistry course in general.."
She blurted.

"Chemistry. Yes!"
I replied before opening salmon door to the staircase. I walked half way down the stairs and stopped. I pressed my back against the wall and leaned my head on the cool cement.

She's not worth losing your job, your everything for.

"She is my everything."
I reply.

Only then did i realize the tears on my cheeks. I pulled my hair and sighed heavily.

"I don't know what to do."
I admitted to myself.

My life is full of mistakes and tragedies, it's full of dumb decisions and questions that circle my brain, and will continue to do so until my eventual death.

The one thing that is not a question, the one thing i'm certain of, is Mia.

Mia

"Thanks for the help!"
I say once Mr. Clifford is gone into the staircase.
Should this be so confusing? You know what this looks like? It looks like a date. It literally looks like "Michael" set up a date for us on the roof. Did he have and ulterior motive in inviting me to the roof, or was this really an exercise to get me to analyze situations deeper?

I walked around the roof toward the round table. I ran my fingers across the pure white tablecloth. It was silky, probably expensive.

I take note of the vanilla candle and the two opposite facing flowers, not roses, but tulips. I took one of the flowers to put in my dorm.

I continue to walk around. When i turned to look at the table at a different angle, i saw a brown leather bound notebook stashed under the table like an afterthought.

I bent over and grabbed it. In the lower left had corner, 'Michael Gordon Clifford' was inscribed in a beautiful cursive font.

I thought about my decisions for a minute, but without finishing my thoughts, my hand ran across the front of the soft book and opened it. On a paper in the front, i saw my name written. Not out of the ordinary considering we had a meeting today.

I turned a few more pages, and saw grades, a few more, lesson plans, a few more, short stories- rather morbid short stories i might add- then i flipped to the back.

For Mia-
The day is bright, but not like your smile.
You light up a room, but more than that, you light up my life. It's too bad that you can't know these truths, and even sadder that you'll never love me the same.
Tragedy after tragedy.
What's one more.
- Michael Gordon Clifford.

I sat there staring blankly at the page for a long while.

What am i supposed to do now?

|| sooo what do you think?? Please be honest!! Im desperate for feedback!! Thanks for reading :) ilyasm! (Ps. Yes, Michael hears voices. He's a genius and has conversations with himself. Sorry if thats weird lol)  .•Madie•. ||