You Can Run To Me

Twenty-Seven

Somehow Natalie felt like something ought to be different after their shower-room stint. It was foolish of her, and she knew it, but she had briefly entertained the idea that by the end of that day he'd have broken it off with Jolene and would... Would what? Did she really want him to be with her instead of Jolene? That made no sense, though, because Jolene clearly belonged with 'Eph'. She was just the right sort for him; doey-eyed and preppy. Jolene fitted in well in their little group, just like Sapphire and then Penryn. Right?

Nat shook herself awake. She had been stuck in another daydream of them together in a white place, nowhere really, their skin touching and burning like flames. He would draw back for a moment to look deep into her eyes, reading her mind as clearly as if it were a Vegas sign, and then, just when she was about to speak, he would rush back in and their lips would collide in a miasma of sensation.

But that daydream didn't belong here, in her Biochemistry class. She had been trying to pay attention, but her mind would just wander off the second she relaxed at all. She dug her nails into her wrist in an attempt to stay alert. What was going on in here? She glanced down to her laptop screen and skim-read the last few lines. She'd drifted off when the teacher, Declan McLachlan, was discussing the role of phospholipids in the cell membrane. Suddenly, she became aware of someone saying her name, rather impatiently.

"Ah, I guess you're not having an epileptic fit then," said Declan, stepping back behind his desk. "Pity."

"Pity?" asked Nat, slightly incredulous.

"Yes, I coulda taught the rest of the class about the influence of biochemistry on epilepsy. There's some really fascinating research goin' on at the moment proving that... Well, I s'pose I won't bother telling you now since, clearly you just weren't listening to me."

"I'm really sorry, I'm just not myself today, I think," mumbled Nat self-consciously. No one looked convinced.

"Well, I was just about to ask you for the chemical structure of a phospholipid. Do you think you're up to answering that?" he asked drily.

Natalie looked at him blankly for a moment, and then suddenly remembered. "A glycerol molecule bonded with an ester bond to two fatty acid chains and one phosphate group."

"And...?"

"Um.... Oh, right a polar molecule attached to the phosphate group."

"Bingo. Not a complete flute after all, then." His Irish accent made this sentence almost incomprehensible (which often happened if he got annoyed or over-excited), but it was very easy to get the gist.

He then laid off her for the moment, moving on to a confused-looking brunette who had her hair yanked up into an unforgiving knot. Natalie stared at the board frantically and began to touch-type down the key points, hoping she hadn't missed anything too important.

"Right, now it's time for a nice little practical," declared Dec.

"Do we get to use Bunsen burners?" called out one hopeful individual.

"Not likely. Everybody partner up quick-like, we haven't got all day."

Natalie looked to her left, and found that Lisa, the girl she usually did practicals with, through a mutual and only slightly grudging agreement, wasn't sat next to her. She hadn't even noticed. She bit her lip – what was she going to do now? She looked around the room, trying to look as casual as possible. Was there anyone else missing today? She really hoped there weren't an odd number of students today; she didn't think she could bear the awkwardness of being the remainder to that equation.

And then a pair of warm brown eyes met with her own.

She recognized the guy only enough to recall his first name, Charles – not that anyone would call him that. No, he was Charlie. As for a surname, she came up blank, but it hardly mattered. She hesitated to call across the room to him, instead electing to walk over to him. He was alone today as well, and looked rather forlorn by the workbench, his brown hair brushing into his eyes slightly. He gave her the vague impression of a lost puppy. Cute.