The Science Behind Boys

TSBB|Experiment 0.4

~|Experiment 0.4|~

Materials: I will need two (incredibly important) lab partners and one nemesis.

"Don't doubt the creator because it is inconceivable that accidents alone could be the controller of this universe."

-Sir Isaac Newton

I place my books back in my locker, my chest pressed so close to it in an effort to not get pushed or trampled in the busy hallway. It's pretty chaotic today (more than usual) because the assembly messed up the timing. The bell for the last class rings and I start to panic since I can't find my chemistry textbook in my locker!

Oh yeah, I realize, I threw that 80 dollar textbook at Wes.

I end up just getting my notebook as I run to my second period chemistry, internally crying and sobbing about my life problems. Everyone does that, right?

I walk into the classroom and everyone is staring at me. Sure guys, keep staring at my beautiful face. Some girls at the back are whispering and looking at me like I'm some sort of terrorist. Other people are giving pitiful glances as if I'm going to die.

I jump when I turn around and see Vincent smirking at me with his arms crossed. Gosh, what is wrong with everyone?

"And the award for the most serial killer-like face goes to you Vincent. Congratulations." I state, mocking his expression. Glob. I really don't have a filter, do I? You see, my brain has an odd way of not controlling my mouth. It's a problem.

Everyone snickers as if I said the funniest thing in the universe. Usually, people laugh at...well, everything I do because my life has an interesting way of making me funny without my consent. By funny, I mean constantly saying strange things and having embarrassing moments.

Vincent grimaces then pushes me lightly on my shoulder, just to annoy me. I narrow my eyes at him.

"So Alana, since you think you're so much better than me, why don't we have a friendly little competition?" he suggests, but I think he's trying to move on from the serial killer phase to the Medusa phase.

"First of all, I can almost see the snakes coming out of your head but unlike Medusa, your stares won't be turning me to stone."

He grits his teeth, probably fighting the urge to kill me.

"Secondly," I continue, "I never said anything about me being better than you. You're the one who's always feeling threatened by me!"

Honestly, did Vincent hit his head somewhere?

"Shut up! Everytime something comes out of that pretty little mouth of yours, you just prove to everyone how much of an idiot you are." he snarls.

I roll my eyes. "Why don't you just cut the insults and tell me what you want? Oh, and thank you for pointing out how pretty my mouth is. I'm so glad you noticed my new lipstick."

His hands ball up into fists, but he and I both know that he doesn't have the balls to punch me.

"I'm just saying that we should have a friendly competition for the senior project." he shrugs, casually. Though, everyone knows that this conversation is anything but casual.

Well then.

If there's any quality that I posses, it is competitiveness. And boy, do I hate losing.

At my baseball games outside of school, I have really good sportsmanship. I don't get mad when we lose (only on the inside). I'm all in it for winning fairly.