This is dedicated to @JadeVergara for voting on my chapters! It means a lot to me =)
- - - -
|| Hana ||
I try to not make my entire body shake as I slip out of the line and make my way to Table 3. I can feel his presence right behind me, the easiness of his stride, and the confidence in his walk. To think I got all this from walking in front of him.
“Hana?” he asks. I don’t turn around. Oh no. Did he know why the Jackets came here? “Yes?”
“You missed our table. It’s here,” he calls from two tables back. Oops. I swallow and slip beside him, trying to calm my beating heart. Get. A. Grip, Hana! He is the prime murder suspect! It just isn’t right to have a crush on a guy with blood on his hands!
“Oops,” I say. “Thanks.”
By now, Mr. Miller has finished pairing up everyone and flips the page again. “Please get your lab coats and goggles from the stack by the door, students. Keep an orderly line.”
“How does this thing work?” I ask Shane. “I’m sort of new at this thing.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll get yours for you,” he offers, and before I can protests, falls into line behind a giggly blonde. It’s getting harder and harder to believe that this is the same guy who killed a man. He’s just so nice, sweet, thoughtful—
Get. A. Grip!
“Here you go,” he says, passing me a folded-up white lab coat like the ones doctors wear and a pair of bulky goggles that are about as big as my fist.
“Are you sure these are my size?” I ask dubiously, unfolding the lab coat and holding it up. From above my head, it reaches all the way down to my knees, and its sleeves are big enough to fit two arms instead of one.
“I’m sure,” he says, for some reason laughing. I scrunch up my nose. “What?”
“There are only two sizes for lab coats—big and small. No one ever uses the big ones. The goggles are all one size,” he explains, but doesn’t stop laughing.
I grow impatient. “What?”
“You look so cute when you’re mad and scrunch up your nose like that. It also makes your eyes look so tiny,” he says through laughs. I blush red and suddenly feel self-conscious.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“What’s there to be sorry about? It suits you.”
“Well, I am Japanese.”
Our teacher calls our attention and lectures on about mixtures and compounds and how to properly heat metals. After giving us a few safety precautions, he tells us to put on our lab attire.
My lab coat is as long as it looks and when I manage to slip it on, the hem touches the floor. Either it’s too long or I’m just too short, because I don’t see anyone else with this kind of problem. Plus, the sleeves hang over my hands, making me look like some kind of penguin. The goggles make me look like a fish. This time, I don’t blame Shane for laughing.
“Here, let me help,” he finally offers, and before I can protest, he folds my sleeves up to my wrists, his fingers momentarily brushing my skin and sending tingles up my arms. What is wrong with me?
“Thanks,” I reply, quickly pulling back and stuffing my hands in my huge lab coat pockets.
We’re supposed to heat a small rectangle of solid iron and form it into a cylindrical shape that sort of meets at the end like a parachute’s top. It reminds me of something, but I can’t exactly put a finger on it.
“So first, we pick up the tongs,” Shane murmurs. “Right?”
“Huh?” I say, snapping out of my trance. “O-oh, yeah. That’s the first step.”
Shane chuckles and picks up the metal tongs like the ones we use to get chicken at the buffet table, but smaller and the two clamps are more rounded and smooth. “Hand me the iron.”
It takes me a moment to find a box of rectangular iron blocks under our desk. I pull out one block and pass it to him, who teaches me how to light a Bunsen burner. When we’d managed to produce a steady flame, Shane holds the iron over it. “Get the molds from Mr. Miller, please.”
“You sure know a lot about chemistry,” I comment, returning with two slabs of concrete that, when put together, form a hollow shape inside.
“It just seems a lot because you’re new to this whole lab thing,” he says, turning the iron around. I can see that it’s starting to melt. “These are actually just the basics. Plus, I favor this experiment out of all.”
“Why?”
“Well, it’s the one I’m best at. I've been working by the--"
"Mr. Walker, I think you should remove that iron from the burner before it becomes mush," Mr. Miller's voice suggests from across the room. Shane glances down at the cuboid and swears. "Pass me the molds. Now!"
I place the molds facing upright in front of him and he drops the iron into the mold. It immediately fills up the space and, when it starts to overflow, Shane presses both parts together and puts them on the table, sighing. "Phew. That was close."
"What would've happened?" I ask worriedly.
"Only the iron burning my hand and the table," he replies nonchalantly, and laughs at my scared expression. "But my hand is safe, isn't it?"
"Guess so," I say.
"You worry too much," Shane comments playfully, and reaches out to ruffle my hair. I turn red, partly because of my embarrassment and partly because I'm angry he messed up my do. "Hey!"
"Kids of Table 3, your next experiment is to mix together this acid and base to form salt and water," the professor announces. Shane and I nod and begin our work.
"Remember, you have to be careful when you mix these or else they'll explode!" Shane exclaims, which does nothing to calm my nerves. "Yeah, yeah. Okay sure."
With him holding the acid and me holding the base, we start pouring them into a beaker until our cylinders are empty. Shane looks around. "Now, where's that mixer thing...? Ah, there."
He reaches out to grab a glass stick the size of two fingers from beside me
and knocks the mixture off its stand in the process.
"Ah! It burns!" I scream, staring at the huge green stain on my lab coat. Now I know why scientists have to wear these stuff. Shane frantically searches for something to help. Despite my pain, I give him a look. "Um... how about water?"
"Mr. Walker!" Mr. Miller's voice exclaims from the front of the room. "Not water! Ms. Minami, take off that lab coat right now! Did any of it get on your skin?"
I rip off my coat and throw it into the sink, where I think it should really go anyway. I inspect my shirt and jeans, and find no green-ness there. "No, sir."
"That's good," he says, calming down slightly. "If it did, I would've had you take off your clothes before the acid corroded your skin."
I hear someone dog-whistle and it's only then when I realize that everyone, and I mean everyone, is staring at me. I shrink back from attention and only nod my head. "Yes, sir."
"Mr. Walker, is it rhetorical if I should remind you that carelessness is not allowed inside the laboratory?"
"No--yes--I don't know, sir," Shane mumbles, eyes downcast. "Sorry."
Mr. Miller sighs. "Well, both of you get an immediate F for this accident. Check your molds if you've passed that test."
Slowly, Shane walks up beside me and separates the molds from each other. Now I know why that shape was so familiar.
It's a mold for a bullet.
YOU ARE READING
The S.H.A.N.E. Game (editing)
Action[ highest ranking: #43 Action ] Sara Williams, Hana Minami, Alicia Denver, Nikki Connor and Erin West – can you guess their acronym? – are not as girly and gentle as their names give away. They are the Maroon Jackets. They are the equivale...
