Imperfect Chemistry// Calum Hood

Chapter Eight

If you want something, and really work hard, and take advantage of opportunities, and never give up, you will find a way.
–Jane Goodall

"This'll be much easier if you do it my way." Jazmine is standing in my room, holding a dress that has less fabric than a t-shirt.

"No," I say resolutely.

"Come on!" She shakes it in my direction.

"No."

"Fine. But don't blame me when this doesn't work." She throws the article of clothing onto my bed.

"I don't need to dress like that to get what I want. As a matter of fact, that will send the exact opposite message than the one I'm going for."

"Okay, but for the love of all that's holy, will you please wear something other than a business suit?"

"But this sends the message I want. What I'm offering is a business proposal."

She goes into my closet and comes out with a handful of clothes. "Compromise. This is more than a business proposal. You also need someone you're attracted to and they won't return the sentiment if you look like a woman of strict morals. How about a pair of jeans with a nice top and boots? No slacks, no blazer."

It's a fair settlement. "Fine."

An hour later, we're outside a nightclub. Jazmine is still grumbling because I didn't let her cover my face in junk. I did make another concession and now the only makeup I have on is a small amount of lip gloss.

She knows the bouncer—a very large, very tattooed bald man dressed all in black—and in less than a few minutes, we're inside the dark cavernous space with the pulsating lights and loud music. It vaguely reminds me of the frat party, but this time at least I have an expert with me. She pulls me around the dance floor to an elevated area that has a variety of couches, chairs and tables. A group of people sit in a circular booth and that's where she leads me.

When we approach, a tall, lanky guy with shaggy, light brown hair stands to greet her.

"Hey, babe," he says, kissing her on the cheek. When he turns his face, I see he has a black eye and his cheek is swollen.

We slide into the booth, Jazmine first so she can sit next to her friend.

"Teresa, this is Osborne," she introduces him. She has to yell over the loud music.

My eyes fly to her face. "The Osborne?"

He laughs. "My girl's been talking about me?" He wraps an arm over her shoulder. Just then, the guy on his right asks him something and he turns his face away from us to answer, giving me a clear shot of the bruising on his face.

Jazmine leans towards me. "Don't judge me," she whispers.

I'm confused by the statement. "Why would I do that?"

She sighs. "Frank and Evvie aren't here because I didn't tell them about it."

"I thought they had to study."

"Only you would believe that excuse." She shakes her head at me, but she's smiling.

"The truth is that Osborne and I got back together, and they don't all exactly get along."