The Chemistry Test

2. trigonometry and bipolar rainclouds

Day One

It was safe to say that math was the worst class in my schedule.

In the desk to my left sat Hunter, whose face had transfigured into a vexed, hateful grimace. He twirled a wad of gum between his teeth with his fingers, only half listening to the math lecture before taking note of my stare and quirking an eyebrow my way as if to say: I'm so done with this lecture.

I exhaled through my teeth and nodded.  My gaze flickered to the packet of Extra hanging out of the bottom section of Hunter's backpack. I met his eyes again and whispered, "Can I have some gum?"

He grabbed the pack and slid it across my desk. I wasted no time digging into it, the soothing tang of spearmint overloading my taste buds.  

I'd never liked math.  I wasn't particularly the best at it and it was more boring than I thought was humanly possible, but Hunter was bad at it, too, and we complained to each other on the daily.

"Thank God, it's over." I sighed after the bell as Hunter and I packed up our things.  He swept a curl out of his face and gave me a lopsided grin.  

"Let's get out of here." He nodded at the door and I followed closely behind him until we made it into the hall.

Hunter was simple-minded and easy-going, which I appreciated, especially after an hour of listening to our math teacher babble about derivatives.   

Our conversation was politely mundane until we reached the end of the hall, when the gargantuan figure came into my view, a bulk of camera equipment in his grasp. Damon.

I heaved a long, deep sigh.  I'd momentarily forgotten about the chemistry test, and seeing the photographer was an unpleasant reminder that fourth period today had actually happened.

"What?" Hunter frowned.

"The chemistry test. I almost forgot."

"Oh, Mark told me about that." He scrunched his face. "Is that Damon?"

"The skyscraper with the camera equipment? Yeah, that's him."

"Shit, he's huge. Mark better not mess with him." He scoffed, combing his hand through unruly dark curls.

"I really hope not."  The guy had a good six inches on Mark, who already stood at six feet tall.  He could get seriously injured if anything happened between them.  I dismissed the thought.

"Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Yeah, I'll see you, Zo." Hunter flashed me a pearly white smile before parting the opposite direction. My eyes tracked him until he reached a group of his buddies and submerged into a plethora of enthusiastic chattering and bro hugs.

"Hey, Zo." Damon's voice rumbled behind me, dripping in sarcasm.

"Hi."  I feigned a smile, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before sliding past him and making a beeline for my car. I couldn't remember where I parked it early this morning before I had a wake-me-up cup of Jo.  

Damon's heavy footsteps clunked behind me.  Clearly, I wasn't getting out of the conversation that easily.  

I spun around.  "I'm sorry, did you need something?"

"Footage," he answered simply, making a finger gun at his camera.

"Mark isn't here." 

"I know."

I stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to justify himself, but the guy didn't say anything. "That's not weird." I muttered underneath my breath, speed-walking away.