Countdown to Chemistry

Cambert University
New Year’s Eve

The firework’s unpredictable pop rattled the lab’s frosty windows. Natalie shrieked, and her pipette fell to the lab bench’s sterile surface in a perfect example of cause-and-effect.

She watched in horror as droplets of hydrochloric acid peppered the back of Tyler’s freckled hand. He dashed to the lab sink, opened the tap to full blast, and plunged his hand under the flow.

Natalie scrambled to recover her pipette, the acid’s strong odor burning her nose. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry.”

Blowing out a breath, he reached for a paper towel and studied his hand. One dimple appeared along with a grin. “Just a slight burn. No harm, no foul.”

Natalie smoothed back her flyaway curls. “Are you really okay?”

Tyler nodded and shot the wadded-up paper towel into a trash can. Two points. “No chemical burn in sight.”

Natalie stifled a groan. She would be the one to injure the best-looking guy she’d ever seen. She looked at her notes. “Why couldn’t you do this before Christmas break? Then we both could be watching the ball drop from somewhere more comfy, or . . . probably at a party, in your case.”

Tyler slid onto the stool next to her. His forearm—muscled from years of basketball drills—brushed her sleeve. Heat ran up her shoulder and into her flushed cheeks. How had she gotten here? And with Tyler Jamison? She didn’t shift away but fiddled with her purple-rimmed glasses.

“Definitely not a party. I always spend New Year’s eating popcorn with my nana.”

“That’s the cutest thing ever.” Did she say that out loud? Be cool, Nat. Be cool.

Tyler’s ginger brows rose. “You think so? While I love my nana, she isn’t exactly who a guy dreams of spending New Year’s Eve with.” The smile Natalie adored lit his face. “And as for why we didn’t do this before Christmas? Blame our point guard. If Hernandez hadn’t been on a hot streak, we would’ve been knocked out of the tournament earlier.” He leaned closer. “And, merry Christmas, you were stuck with me as a lab partner.”

Natalie snorted and immediately regretted it. “Yeah, what English major wouldn’t want to be paired with the only other clueless senior?”

“I think Dr. Brown knew what he was doing when he teamed us up.” His ears reddened. “Sorry you’re stuck here on New Year’s, though.”

As if she had any better plans. Or anyone she’d rather hang out with. She couldn’t believe her luck when his name appeared next to hers on the list. Cambert University’s miniscule student population allowed her to catch sight of Tyler from time to time, but to have him assigned as her lab partner? Now the easy-going basketball star definitely knew her name.

He grabbed his phone and after a few taps, angled the screen toward her. “There. I predict we’ll finish this experiment by the new year.”

Natalie studied the list of methods. “If we’re going to complete this thing in the next”—she glanced at the phone timer—“four minutes, then we’d better get moving. This sucker is half of our grade, after all.”

“Good thing Dr. Brown delayed turning in our final grade until we finished or that C-minus might’ve stopped me from playing basketball next semester.”

“Okay, I’m not that bad off grade-wise. I’m just glad it’s the only science class I have to take for my major.”

He reached for the beaker of hydrochloric acid. “Not big into slicing and dicing small animals, eh?”

That dimple reappeared, and Natalie chewed on her lip to keep from sighing. “Absolutely not. I’m happy with my books, thank you very much.”

“I’ve seen you on the quad, always with a book in hand.”

“You—you have?”

He nodded. “Always knew you were smarter than me, which is why I asked Dr. Br—” His eyes widened, even though he wasn’t looking at her. He flipped his manual to the lesson labeled “Titration.” “Pink! We’re looking for the solution to change from clear to pink.” He measured out chemical indicator. The flask clinked against the beaker as he poured it into the hydrochloric acid.

Natalie frowned. “Right . . . pink. If it turns any other color, we fail the exam.”

Tyler gave a dry chuckle. “Failure is not an option.”

More fireworks exploded and fizzled through the window.

Natalie stuck her hands in her hoodie’s pocket. “Who knew so many people were on campus for New Year’s?”

“The alumni association always throws a party. It’s grown a lot over time.”

“I forgot you’re from around here.”

Tyler shrugged. “When your dad’s a professor, you spend a lot of your childhood on campus.”

“A bulldog from the beginning?”

Tyler’s face lit up. “Of course! Go dogs.”

“I took a campus tour in high school and knew it was the place for me.”

He slid her a smile. “I’m glad.”

What did he mean? And he’d noticed her before? Then maybe—

“Ten!” the crowd on the quad shouted.

Tyler looked at his phone. “Ten-second warning! Let’s do this thing.”

“Nine!”

Natalie held her full pipette of sodium hydroxide over the beaker.

“Eight!”

She bit her lip. “Here goes nothing.”

“Seven!”

The solution hit the liquid and swirled inside.

“Six!”

Natalie leaned down until her nose nearly touched the beaker.

“Five!”

Tyler’s profile appeared out of the corner of her eye.

“Four!”

Clear gave way to a perfect pink.

“Three!”

Natalie turned to cheer their success but froze when Tyler didn’t pull back. He was so close, but surely he wouldn’t want to—

“Two!”

Tyler’s eyes held onto her.

“One!”

He quirked an eyebrow, a polite question. She met his shy smile with one of her own.

“Happy New Year!”

Here went everything.