Page 65 of The Charlie Method

CHARLOTTE HAS FORGOTTEN HOW TO DO SCIENCE.

No joke. This woman, who for the last couple of weeks has taken the lead on every project, now stares at me like she doesn’t understand the difference between green and red.

We’ve been monitoring cell proliferation in our hydrogel matrix experiment. It’s Day 3, and I’m using a fluorescence microscope to examine the stained cells from today’s sample. Live cells are a shiny green, dead ones red.

Yet as I recite the results that Charlotte is supposed to be jotting down in her notebook, I notice she’s clearly writing down the wrong shit.

“Put down the pencil,” I command.

“Huh?”

“You’re not even listening to me. That’s not the right cell distribution.”

She glances down at what she wrote. “Oh, you’re right. Seems like uneven distribution. Maybe there was inconsistent staining?”

“Ormaybeyou’re distracted and writing down the wrong results. You keep writing down red whenever I say green.”

“No I’m not.”

I lean over and take the pencil out of her hand. “You’re temporarily benched. Now tell me what’s wrong so we can talk it out and then go back to our work.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

A female voice interrupts my grilling. “Will. Hey.”

I swivel on my chair to greet my former lab partner. “Hey, Lourdes.”

“I just wanted to make sure you got the, um, thing I sent you.” Her gaze darts toward Charlotte, but my new partner isn’t paying attention.

Charlotte has her eye glued to the microscope now. Yeah, something is definitely up with her today.

“I mean, the chapter.” Lourdes is pretty much whispering now. “You didn’t email back.”

“I’m still reading it,” I assure her. “I should be done tonight.”

She tucks her chin-length hair behind her ears and gives me a smile of gratitude. “Thanks. I really, really appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Lourdes flounces back to George, and I wait until she’s out of earshot before turning to grin at Charlotte. My humor fades when I notice her stiff posture. And she’s avoiding my gaze.

“Okay, seriously, what’s bothering you?” I press. “Because the Charlotte I’ve been working with this month would’ve been all over that Lourdes conversation demanding to read the latest fanfic chapter. Are you having trouble in your other classes? Fighting with your friends?”

“My friends all love me.”

A laugh slips out. “Okay. Family problems?”

“No. Let’s get back to work.”

“No. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t have to tell you what’s wrong.”

I pounce. “So thereissomething wrong.”

She finally allows her gaze to meet mine. Then proceeds to stare at me for so long, I shift in my chair. I can’t look away, though. Her eyes are magnetic. A deep brown, like melted dark chocolate. And her skin looks so soft to the touch. I wonder if her hair is soft too. She always wears it in a bun when we’re in the lab, secured by a white hairpin, with long black wisps framing her face. My gaze travels to her mouth. She has great lips. Pale pink and pouty.

“You’re staring,” she accuses.

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